I work with children most days and adults in different capacities and often do team building and cultural diversity activities and exercises as "ice breakers." I have found that the more things folks learn that they have in common, the more easily it is to build trust--so I often get folks to stand in circles or get a partner and talk about their favorite things.
When it comes to favorite color, I find that most people say blue or green or a shade of one or the other--mine being lime green and Mediterranean blue--of course many little girls do still say "pink and purple" but you'll have that. When they talk about their favorite flowers, most choose wild flowers like daisies, roses, sunflowers. But when it comes to trees? People tend to really get more specific and creative.
Kids (of all religions) often shout out "Christmas trees!" and smile. They don't know if they are pine or spruce or balsam firs, they just like the lights and presents...New Americans often say "oak" or describe the trees with the acorns or ones with color (the sugar maples.) Some New Americans have told me "ones you can climb." I've never heard an adult say that they preferred Christmas trees to any other--probably because they have had to deal with the purchase, hauling, setting up, light stringing, decorating, watering, clean up and disposal of said trees. They, like me, pick hardwoods--maple, oak, beech or birch---because we think about the beauty of the tree, yes, but the value of it once it is chopped down, as well. We think about our picture frames, mirrors, bedsteads, our dining room tables, hardwood floors, the post and beam construction of our summer homes...covered bridges...
It's not true that my favorite trees are Christmas trees, although I do love the fragrance as much as the next person. I love paper birch trees and beeches. Paper birches because they "breathe" and often look as if they have faces on them...and they are practical in a wilderness survival situation--bark burns even when wet. Beeches look JUST like strong muscular arms being pushed out of the soil into the forest air.They give us beech nuts. Their leaves turn a vibrant gold in autumn. And I like that look.
Forest trees that grow in clumps cling to one another's roots and some of them have root systems that push entire trees up and out and form an actual GROVE. In fact the largest living organism on Earth is a grove of aspens in California. There is nothing in this world like walking along a wooded path of a forest lined with beeches and birches in mid-August and having to don a sweater because it is so cool and shady and welcoming.
Trees are also the tallest of all living things and some of the oldest. They give us oxygen, shade, places for animals and insects to live and thrive in, climb...I could go on and on. Trees. They are my favorites.
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Sunday, December 28, 2014
A Bird on Route 100 South
My brother's friend (I will call him William) told us a true story about one of the ridiculous things that his late father, a Mory cop, had told him. It all began with phone calls from tourists and locals to the Stowe Police barracks--a bird was on Route 100 and was causing a ruckus. By the time the Stowe police ascertained from a local person that the bird wasn't actually physically IN Stowe, and therefore out of Stowe's "jurisdiction" and heretofore and notwithstanding blah blah blah, without a call from Mory's police unit, Stowe's hands were tied.
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Well, it was Officer Bob McCavern who was sent out on the call to do something about a "huge turkey" probably injured, and causing "quite a stir" on Vermont Route 100 south of Mory-- so he threw a woolen blanket in the trunk of the cruiser and headed south down the highway lights flashing, sirens on.
It was all happening at one of the typical sites for accidents, an intersection of Route 100 and the Randolph Road, and a very busy section of the road, especially during foliage season. By the time Officer McCavern arrived, there was quite a commotion, cars were everywhere-- parked IN the cornfield, lined up along both sides of all three roads. Some locals were trying to chase the bird out of the road, but were, instead being chased BY the animal, who was flipping and flapping, pecking and scratching at anyone who dared come near.There was blood on the highway and it was obvious that the bird had been hit. Bob radioed his own unit for "backup then the neighboring "boys in blue" in Stowe.
Bob got on his cruiser megaphone and drove slowly through the crowds of folks, some taking photos, others rolling down windows, peeking out but not daring to exit their vehicles. He implored folks "I've got it under control, folks," he said. "You can all get back in your cars." Some people listened, women gesturing to men to go, go reaching up and taking children off the roofs of Subaru Outbacks, but because it was such a SCENE, everyone really just got in the way and made things worse.
Bob finally got TO the bird, and yes, it was injured and fighting mad but no, it was no turkey...it was a turkey buzzard, meaning a buzzard much bigger than a turkey that probably eats turkeys for breakfast. He got out of the cruiser, flipped the trunk open, grabbed the blanket and started pursuit. The turkey buzzard was, according to witnesses, "so fired up he didn't know one way from the other" and ran down across the Mory/Stowe border of Route 100 into Stowe territory! The Stowe police arrived, set up two cruiser barricades across the road and came with a third cruiser to stop on-coming traffic. Mory sent a second cruiser, then a third and then it happened, the bird half ran and half flew into the field.
Because the bird was injured, someone called the game warden, but he was way over in Eden Mills and it would "be awhile"before he could come and either save or shoot the thing. Bob chased it for awhile, but it was ducking and diving this way and that and Bob was in his 60's nearing retirement and had a heart condition...so he had to think of another way to get this thing done. He consulted with the other police officers, some of whom were ready "to kill the damn bird" but on second thought not only would this be dangerous to the citizens, it wouldn't look good to the media or the Tourist Bureau. Ever since the "Pigs in Stowe" article back in the early '80's Stowe was trying to clean up its reputation when it came to animals of all kinds.
Finally they all decided that they needed to get the bird some medical help and to do that they had to capture and hold it somewhere until the folks from Milton could come down and lend a hand. That meant calling the State Police and getting permission to use the holding cell in Hyde Park. So, eventually they did catch the poor massive bleeding bird, put it in the rear of Bob's cruiser, sent everyone home and put that bird in jail until they could sedate him and fix his broken wing, sew up his lacerations and house him at the bird rescue place.
This was over 10 years ago and that bird is still alive and well and making stops at elementary schools and community events all over Vermont. So really, to be an injured bird on the Stowe/Mory line of Vermont Route 100 is to get loads of attention from locals and tourists alike and to become a celebrity of sorts, especially if it happens during the peak of foliage season.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Well, it was Officer Bob McCavern who was sent out on the call to do something about a "huge turkey" probably injured, and causing "quite a stir" on Vermont Route 100 south of Mory-- so he threw a woolen blanket in the trunk of the cruiser and headed south down the highway lights flashing, sirens on.
It was all happening at one of the typical sites for accidents, an intersection of Route 100 and the Randolph Road, and a very busy section of the road, especially during foliage season. By the time Officer McCavern arrived, there was quite a commotion, cars were everywhere-- parked IN the cornfield, lined up along both sides of all three roads. Some locals were trying to chase the bird out of the road, but were, instead being chased BY the animal, who was flipping and flapping, pecking and scratching at anyone who dared come near.There was blood on the highway and it was obvious that the bird had been hit. Bob radioed his own unit for "backup then the neighboring "boys in blue" in Stowe.
Bob got on his cruiser megaphone and drove slowly through the crowds of folks, some taking photos, others rolling down windows, peeking out but not daring to exit their vehicles. He implored folks "I've got it under control, folks," he said. "You can all get back in your cars." Some people listened, women gesturing to men to go, go reaching up and taking children off the roofs of Subaru Outbacks, but because it was such a SCENE, everyone really just got in the way and made things worse.
Bob finally got TO the bird, and yes, it was injured and fighting mad but no, it was no turkey...it was a turkey buzzard, meaning a buzzard much bigger than a turkey that probably eats turkeys for breakfast. He got out of the cruiser, flipped the trunk open, grabbed the blanket and started pursuit. The turkey buzzard was, according to witnesses, "so fired up he didn't know one way from the other" and ran down across the Mory/Stowe border of Route 100 into Stowe territory! The Stowe police arrived, set up two cruiser barricades across the road and came with a third cruiser to stop on-coming traffic. Mory sent a second cruiser, then a third and then it happened, the bird half ran and half flew into the field.
Because the bird was injured, someone called the game warden, but he was way over in Eden Mills and it would "be awhile"before he could come and either save or shoot the thing. Bob chased it for awhile, but it was ducking and diving this way and that and Bob was in his 60's nearing retirement and had a heart condition...so he had to think of another way to get this thing done. He consulted with the other police officers, some of whom were ready "to kill the damn bird" but on second thought not only would this be dangerous to the citizens, it wouldn't look good to the media or the Tourist Bureau. Ever since the "Pigs in Stowe" article back in the early '80's Stowe was trying to clean up its reputation when it came to animals of all kinds.
Finally they all decided that they needed to get the bird some medical help and to do that they had to capture and hold it somewhere until the folks from Milton could come down and lend a hand. That meant calling the State Police and getting permission to use the holding cell in Hyde Park. So, eventually they did catch the poor massive bleeding bird, put it in the rear of Bob's cruiser, sent everyone home and put that bird in jail until they could sedate him and fix his broken wing, sew up his lacerations and house him at the bird rescue place.
This was over 10 years ago and that bird is still alive and well and making stops at elementary schools and community events all over Vermont. So really, to be an injured bird on the Stowe/Mory line of Vermont Route 100 is to get loads of attention from locals and tourists alike and to become a celebrity of sorts, especially if it happens during the peak of foliage season.
Tuesday, October 28, 2014
Thoughts on Marilyn Monroe
Marilyn Monroe was originally named Norma Jean Baker, I believe. When Norma Jean was young, photos of her and her model mother were taken on beach blankets in big black sunglasses, walking hand-in-hand along windy beaches, standing next to late-model open-air cars, that sort of thing.
She was not a natural blonde. In fact, she had, until the day she died, brown eyes, lashes and eyebrows, usually a tip off as to a person's true hair color. Norma Jean/Marilyn Monroe had a very soft, girly voice and was portrayed as being America's Sweetheart-- the sexy kitten sweetheart, not the Orphan Annie sweetheart.
Men loved her and women wanted to BE her. More hair color was sold during her screen reign than is probably even sold now. She had soft, fine blonde hair on her arms and legs that was reportedly silken. She made LOVE to the camera, they said, because SOME LIKE IT HOT.
Size 12 Marilyn Monroe was twelve sized up from the size 0 models of today and was considered in the 50's and 60's (and to many, even these days) to be voluptuously gorgeous. Three husbands, tons of successful movies, fame, furs and diamonds--made her famous and outwardly happy. Along with the lifestyle of shiny red cars, the latest fashions, foot and eyewear came a love for martinis. Along with the most stylish furs and dinner gowns and long cigarette holders came a drug habit.
America loved her but could not save her--in black and white or in full color. Poor Marilyn ended up going down the RIVER OF NO RETURN. Perhaps it was a murder, not a suicide. Regardless, come to find out DIAMONDS ARE not A GIRL'S BEST FRIEND.
Oct, 2014
She was not a natural blonde. In fact, she had, until the day she died, brown eyes, lashes and eyebrows, usually a tip off as to a person's true hair color. Norma Jean/Marilyn Monroe had a very soft, girly voice and was portrayed as being America's Sweetheart-- the sexy kitten sweetheart, not the Orphan Annie sweetheart.
Men loved her and women wanted to BE her. More hair color was sold during her screen reign than is probably even sold now. She had soft, fine blonde hair on her arms and legs that was reportedly silken. She made LOVE to the camera, they said, because SOME LIKE IT HOT.
Size 12 Marilyn Monroe was twelve sized up from the size 0 models of today and was considered in the 50's and 60's (and to many, even these days) to be voluptuously gorgeous. Three husbands, tons of successful movies, fame, furs and diamonds--made her famous and outwardly happy. Along with the lifestyle of shiny red cars, the latest fashions, foot and eyewear came a love for martinis. Along with the most stylish furs and dinner gowns and long cigarette holders came a drug habit.
America loved her but could not save her--in black and white or in full color. Poor Marilyn ended up going down the RIVER OF NO RETURN. Perhaps it was a murder, not a suicide. Regardless, come to find out DIAMONDS ARE not A GIRL'S BEST FRIEND.
Oct, 2014
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
Pigs in Stowe=a true story with a lot made up
There was a series of stories in the local Vermont paper "the Stowe Reporter" that kept the whole town stirring for quite some time. It featured a local guy who wanted to do whatever he wanted to with his land on the Mountain Road so he went about doing it. But because he met with such resistance from the town fathers,tourist bureau, and nearby merchants, an out and out war began.
They heard that he was going to chop up his several acres into one or two acre lots, sell them off and see what happened. He didn't really care what happened, as you can imagine. So he found a real estate agent without scruples (they are so hard to find!) and put up some signs.
Now, if you know anything about Vermont, and I know you do--even back in the '80s we were green. Stowe being a Currier and Ives ski village in the winter and a golfing, tennis, etc. "haven" for rich folks most of the rest of the year. Foliage season brings in as much if not more tourist dollars than ski season and it only lasts about a week. So to think that ( I'll call him Homer Shruggs) to even CONSIDER putting small HOMES up along a lovely meadow lined with red maple trees along the Mountain Road was unthinkable.
Homer was a true Vermonter--dyed in the wool, 6th or more generation, meat and potatoes man. Nobody had handed over anything to him; he had worked hard for his money and nobody was going to tell him what to do with it. Besides, he told the media, he needed the money for taxes.
The first thing he did was to haul a very old, ugly blue house trailer onto that lot the town told him he could not develop. A town meeting ensued and folks screamed and cried out that Homer was doing this on purpose, just to make the rest of the town suffer" and made other such accusations. Homer sat there in the front row, Blue Seal hat on straight, farmer jeans and muddy boots. Arms crossed, Smiling. Eventually after everyone had been heard, Homer strolled out of the Town Hall, hopped down the steps and into his beat up red and rusty pick up and smoked his way up Main Street, turning right without stopping at the blinking light.
This town outcry didn't stop old Homer. No sir. A few days went by and Homer added to his land a ramshackle fence, part chicken wire, part barbed wire, part orange snow fence and then around that a split rail fence that didn't so much encircle the wire fencing, as box it in on four or more sides.
Locals sat over coffee the next morning gabbing about the mess Homer was making of that lot. People drove up the road to see what was what gawking so that two or three almost had car accidents in the process. Someone finally called the cops.
Sargent Oliver Sargent came to the town folks' rescue and because he knew Homer since they were in short pants, they had a heart-to-heart with the result being that poor Olie shook his head, tipped his hat and walked away from the killing end of Homer's shot gun.
The very next day, a large shaky trailer full of full-grown hogs arrived on Homer's land and by gosh didn't 25 or more pigs run squealing with joy out of that thing and take up residence in that green open field? Now you may not know what pigs do when they find a place to root, but I do. Those great big hogs began nosing around in the soil, uprooting that entire field in about a week...and then it rained and was sunny and hot. Those pigs couldn't have had it any better off! They rolled around in that mud smiling and snorting, like...well, like pigs in shit.
Now, that makeshift pig pen of Homer's was only about 100 feet off the main winding road and when the wind changed, the smell of that place? Was worse than anything you've ever smelled dead or alive! Headlined in the Stowe Reporter was "PIGS IN STOWE" and in full view, black and white, there it was: a photo of a very gnarly muddy hog about the size of a pony smiling into the camera, proud to be a Vermonter. Well, didn't that story just get national attention and put Stowe, Vermont on national news.
You know what happened, of course, Homer finally either got bought off or something because a little while later, the hogs disappeared, the fence came down and the trailer got hauled off. And that field is greener today because of it. I wonder what did happen to Homer and those hogs sometimes. But every time I travel that Mountain Road and pass that lovely field bordered by those maples, I smile and smile remembering Homer and his pigs in Stowe.
They heard that he was going to chop up his several acres into one or two acre lots, sell them off and see what happened. He didn't really care what happened, as you can imagine. So he found a real estate agent without scruples (they are so hard to find!) and put up some signs.
Now, if you know anything about Vermont, and I know you do--even back in the '80s we were green. Stowe being a Currier and Ives ski village in the winter and a golfing, tennis, etc. "haven" for rich folks most of the rest of the year. Foliage season brings in as much if not more tourist dollars than ski season and it only lasts about a week. So to think that ( I'll call him Homer Shruggs) to even CONSIDER putting small HOMES up along a lovely meadow lined with red maple trees along the Mountain Road was unthinkable.
Homer was a true Vermonter--dyed in the wool, 6th or more generation, meat and potatoes man. Nobody had handed over anything to him; he had worked hard for his money and nobody was going to tell him what to do with it. Besides, he told the media, he needed the money for taxes.
The first thing he did was to haul a very old, ugly blue house trailer onto that lot the town told him he could not develop. A town meeting ensued and folks screamed and cried out that Homer was doing this on purpose, just to make the rest of the town suffer" and made other such accusations. Homer sat there in the front row, Blue Seal hat on straight, farmer jeans and muddy boots. Arms crossed, Smiling. Eventually after everyone had been heard, Homer strolled out of the Town Hall, hopped down the steps and into his beat up red and rusty pick up and smoked his way up Main Street, turning right without stopping at the blinking light.
This town outcry didn't stop old Homer. No sir. A few days went by and Homer added to his land a ramshackle fence, part chicken wire, part barbed wire, part orange snow fence and then around that a split rail fence that didn't so much encircle the wire fencing, as box it in on four or more sides.
Locals sat over coffee the next morning gabbing about the mess Homer was making of that lot. People drove up the road to see what was what gawking so that two or three almost had car accidents in the process. Someone finally called the cops.
Sargent Oliver Sargent came to the town folks' rescue and because he knew Homer since they were in short pants, they had a heart-to-heart with the result being that poor Olie shook his head, tipped his hat and walked away from the killing end of Homer's shot gun.
The very next day, a large shaky trailer full of full-grown hogs arrived on Homer's land and by gosh didn't 25 or more pigs run squealing with joy out of that thing and take up residence in that green open field? Now you may not know what pigs do when they find a place to root, but I do. Those great big hogs began nosing around in the soil, uprooting that entire field in about a week...and then it rained and was sunny and hot. Those pigs couldn't have had it any better off! They rolled around in that mud smiling and snorting, like...well, like pigs in shit.
Now, that makeshift pig pen of Homer's was only about 100 feet off the main winding road and when the wind changed, the smell of that place? Was worse than anything you've ever smelled dead or alive! Headlined in the Stowe Reporter was "PIGS IN STOWE" and in full view, black and white, there it was: a photo of a very gnarly muddy hog about the size of a pony smiling into the camera, proud to be a Vermonter. Well, didn't that story just get national attention and put Stowe, Vermont on national news.
You know what happened, of course, Homer finally either got bought off or something because a little while later, the hogs disappeared, the fence came down and the trailer got hauled off. And that field is greener today because of it. I wonder what did happen to Homer and those hogs sometimes. But every time I travel that Mountain Road and pass that lovely field bordered by those maples, I smile and smile remembering Homer and his pigs in Stowe.
Monday, May 26, 2014
Phone Free Weekend Without Too Much Drama
I left my i phone at work and did not realize it until I was almost home. By then, not only did I know I couldn't PHONE to tell someone to hide it and shut it off, the office I had left was about to close and I wasn't even in Stowe, yet. So I thought WHO do I know who has a phone and will lend it to me in Stowe? My old landlords/friends would let me, but I didn't want the first time I had seen them since my brother's funeral to be a Can I Use Your Phone, I'm Such a Fool I Forgot Mine, again time...so I remembered Chris who works at a convenience store in Stowe has a phone and definitely would let me use it. Sans Drama.
So he did and Darlene said she'd put it away. I intended to go back for it on Saturday. But it's ninety miles both ways and all I needed to really do is tell my family and ONE FRIEND that I was without a phone.
Saturday was Green Up day and it went without a hitch except that I had to find a place in one town over to pick something up I had agreed to pick up on Front Page Forum, our neighborhood bulletin board. I emailed both of my sisters and neither wrote right back, making me realize TEXTING IS FASTER, and felt upset with them that they didn't think my lack of planning was their emergency.
Then during Greening UP Vermont, I could and would have taken multiple photos that I then would have tweeted or texted to fam or posted on Facebook but I couldn't because I was living PHONE FREE. This "what if there's an emergency" life we live is ok if you are a mom with kids on a camp out or driving out of the state or at the hands of a psychopath, but this every day "what it there's an emergency" is for the birds.
Of course, when my debit card was declined if I had a phone I WOULD have gotten right on that phone with Key Bank and told them what was what. But I had cash in my house so it was just a tad embarrassing and the store manager was very nice about it and held my groceries and I got them back without too much drama. Nobody in my family stopped by as far as I can tell since nobody left a note. I went lawn sailing and bought (with cash) quite a lot of stuff...without using my card. OR PHONE for directions. Just driving around and finding the place more or less in my neighborhood that I had never been to before. So all in all my life this weekend was good. No use of a phone after Friday pm. Not missing it much, either. Of course, I have a laptop, dvds, a tv and NETFLIX, for the time being, anyway.
But because my debit card was compromised, I do need to figure out who takes money out of my account each month, get a new card and give them permission to keep doing it. Or maybe I will only allow my bank and my insurance company to do that from now on. Well, and Netflix. Everyone else? Can go ------themselves! I did have a quiet weekend, after all, and realized that only during my interstate drive back to work on the following Monday, did I look down to check a phone that was not with me and hadn't been all weekend. I deliberately did not listen to the radio, either. No electronic anything for me until I made it back to work, got it, plugged it in--because nobody at work thought to plug the darned thing in all weekend--and started my work week when I should have. At work, not hours before.
So he did and Darlene said she'd put it away. I intended to go back for it on Saturday. But it's ninety miles both ways and all I needed to really do is tell my family and ONE FRIEND that I was without a phone.
Saturday was Green Up day and it went without a hitch except that I had to find a place in one town over to pick something up I had agreed to pick up on Front Page Forum, our neighborhood bulletin board. I emailed both of my sisters and neither wrote right back, making me realize TEXTING IS FASTER, and felt upset with them that they didn't think my lack of planning was their emergency.
Then during Greening UP Vermont, I could and would have taken multiple photos that I then would have tweeted or texted to fam or posted on Facebook but I couldn't because I was living PHONE FREE. This "what if there's an emergency" life we live is ok if you are a mom with kids on a camp out or driving out of the state or at the hands of a psychopath, but this every day "what it there's an emergency" is for the birds.
Of course, when my debit card was declined if I had a phone I WOULD have gotten right on that phone with Key Bank and told them what was what. But I had cash in my house so it was just a tad embarrassing and the store manager was very nice about it and held my groceries and I got them back without too much drama. Nobody in my family stopped by as far as I can tell since nobody left a note. I went lawn sailing and bought (with cash) quite a lot of stuff...without using my card. OR PHONE for directions. Just driving around and finding the place more or less in my neighborhood that I had never been to before. So all in all my life this weekend was good. No use of a phone after Friday pm. Not missing it much, either. Of course, I have a laptop, dvds, a tv and NETFLIX, for the time being, anyway.
But because my debit card was compromised, I do need to figure out who takes money out of my account each month, get a new card and give them permission to keep doing it. Or maybe I will only allow my bank and my insurance company to do that from now on. Well, and Netflix. Everyone else? Can go ------themselves! I did have a quiet weekend, after all, and realized that only during my interstate drive back to work on the following Monday, did I look down to check a phone that was not with me and hadn't been all weekend. I deliberately did not listen to the radio, either. No electronic anything for me until I made it back to work, got it, plugged it in--because nobody at work thought to plug the darned thing in all weekend--and started my work week when I should have. At work, not hours before.
Saturday, February 22, 2014
Monday, February 17, 2014
These are a few of my least favorite things
PEOPLE AND THE WAY THEY CHOOSE TO LOOK:
Comb overs
Topees (you know, man wigs)
Shaved heads, long beards
Full body tats
Multiple facial piercings
Curly (only at the ends) mustaches
OK, any mustaches
Mohawks on little kids
Kids wearing camo sweats to school (come on!)
Skinny jeans on not so skinny folks
Really high heels on anybody's feet (ouch)
Sandals with socks
ONE long fingernail (like on a pinky?) but others regular length--spooky
Nail polish that is peeling
Fake orange tans
Frosted hair
Pants below butts
Make up on children
Stage moms PUTTING makeup on children
Wigs on kids to make them look "sexy"--which in my opinion is criminal
Rings on every finger--make up your mind
Bling on anyone who is NOT a rapper
PINKY RINGS on ANYBODY
Plastic combs that hold up hair when you wash your face used as an ACCESSORY
Neck tats---ouch
Finger tats---HATE on one hand and LOVE on the other--again, make up your mind
PEOPLE AND THEIR SHINANIGINS;
People who pick their noses in public
Racists who don't even try
Liars
Christian Fundamentalists who are anything but holy
Polygamists
Those who cut you off in traffic
People who "kill you with kindness"---act one way behind your back and another to your face
Parents who brag about how SMART or ATHLETIC their kids are
Kids who say "I'm rich" because their parents tell them that
Lazy people who won't even take a walk with you on a sunny day in the springtime because, according to them, they need to take a NAP
People who drive right up NEXT to their houses and won't walk the 20 feet from the end of the driveway
People who drive right up NEXT to the supermarket for the same reason
PET PARENTS who treat their dogs better than their own KIDS
Smokers
Drunk Drivers
Married men in bars who try to pick you up with one of two lines, "I'm unhappily married" like it's HER fault or "My wife and I have an understanding" like it's OK to cheat, she knows he does it and she's OK WITH IT!
Posers
People who scoff at homeless people
Comb overs
Topees (you know, man wigs)
Shaved heads, long beards
Full body tats
Multiple facial piercings
Curly (only at the ends) mustaches
OK, any mustaches
Mohawks on little kids
Kids wearing camo sweats to school (come on!)
Skinny jeans on not so skinny folks
Really high heels on anybody's feet (ouch)
Sandals with socks
ONE long fingernail (like on a pinky?) but others regular length--spooky
Nail polish that is peeling
Fake orange tans
Frosted hair
Pants below butts
Make up on children
Stage moms PUTTING makeup on children
Wigs on kids to make them look "sexy"--which in my opinion is criminal
Rings on every finger--make up your mind
Bling on anyone who is NOT a rapper
PINKY RINGS on ANYBODY
Plastic combs that hold up hair when you wash your face used as an ACCESSORY
Neck tats---ouch
Finger tats---HATE on one hand and LOVE on the other--again, make up your mind
PEOPLE AND THEIR SHINANIGINS;
People who pick their noses in public
Racists who don't even try
Liars
Christian Fundamentalists who are anything but holy
Polygamists
Those who cut you off in traffic
People who "kill you with kindness"---act one way behind your back and another to your face
Parents who brag about how SMART or ATHLETIC their kids are
Kids who say "I'm rich" because their parents tell them that
Lazy people who won't even take a walk with you on a sunny day in the springtime because, according to them, they need to take a NAP
People who drive right up NEXT to their houses and won't walk the 20 feet from the end of the driveway
People who drive right up NEXT to the supermarket for the same reason
PET PARENTS who treat their dogs better than their own KIDS
Smokers
Drunk Drivers
Married men in bars who try to pick you up with one of two lines, "I'm unhappily married" like it's HER fault or "My wife and I have an understanding" like it's OK to cheat, she knows he does it and she's OK WITH IT!
Posers
People who scoff at homeless people
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