I've been delighting in a little evilness lately. What else is new?
I'll admit to being one who looks down my nose at able-bodied people who park in the handicap spots. But lately I've been feeling a little more horsey about it. (Maybe just a little bit entitled to judge as I'm weeble-wobbling along from ten yards back in this blistering, unrelenting heat.)
My family and I were sitting at a restaurant by the window a few weeks ago and we watched this thirty-something guy jump out of his BMW, parking in a handicap spot, when there was a non-handicap spot open that was even closer to the door!!! I guess he's so used to taking advantage of his hang tag he didn't even notice.
One lady I encountered at Target had the nerve to park up front even wearing full work out clothes, jogging shoes, and looking like she just left the gym. I couldn't help myself!
I've started staring people down who don't belong in the handicap spot. Like, really giving them the up, down, once over. Looking over my shoulder at them, silently letting them know "You're wrong for parking there!"
Some people don't have any moral reservations about what they are doing. Most people quickly look away. But, you'd be surprised at how many people make uncomfortable comments, seemingly to thin air, about why they are parked where (they know in their heart) they shouldn't be.
I can't believe my gall. Who am I to make them feel uncomfortable with my Jedi-telepathic silent reproach?
It's so wrong. I know its not my business, but it feels so darn good (even if something inside tells me this behavior is a near cousin to road-raging.)
I hope I don't get shot up for being so snide. I'm not going to stop until I'm not pregnant anymore. (One more month, or so, of being the naughty, self-appointed parking lot police.)
Oh, and if I catch a man in the pregnant lady parking spot during the heat of the day, it won't be a silent disapproval.
We might make the 10 o'clock news! (Can you imagine a crazy pregnant lady going berzerk on some guy for that? Hypothetically speaking, could she then insist on a jury of pregnant peers?)
May I go on?
I threw away the most delightful hour watching two episodes of Kourtney and Khloe take Miami.
Technically its considered reality TV.
Such lovely girls, those Kardashians.
Reality comes to them a little later than most, probably because of the sheltering effect of their trust funds. Now these girls are like 28-30 years old and one's having a flirtation with a bi-chic while professing her heterosexuality, while the other sister is drunk-kissing her coworker and learning how it feels to face up to that the next day at work.
I happened to catch the episode where the foul-mouthed sister finds a vial of cocaine and takes it to the radio station where she works, pops it out of her purse and says on live radio, "Look what I found at my store...drugs are everywhere in Miami..."
Obviously she didn't know any better about normal-people job protocol, but she sure learned her lesson. It was like a modern spin on the Brady Bunch episode where cigarettes fall out of Greg's jacket.
But, you know, with Jan casually calling Marsha (or Carol) a "b!tch-a$$-ho" or some other colorful nickname. And picture Cindy dressed like a prostitute to meet a friend for lunch.
It's just so raw and identifiable what these poor girls face as they claw their way up and hang on for deal life to their media starlet status.
Two thumbs ups.
(And for you really big fans who happen to be little in the middle like the Dash girls, did you know you can buy their gently used clothes on ebay? Seems they are green humanitarians, too!)
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