Old Ladies Are Completely Worthless

I was recently involved in Denver Digs Trees annual tree sale and distribution. As you may or may not know Colorado does not have a climate or landscape that facilitates natural tree reproduction. The ground is too hard and dusty and there is not enough rainfall to encourage seeds to take root. Almost all of the trees in Colorado's metropolitan areas were planted by people.

For those of you thinking that I care about oxygen or cleaning up pollution or any of that other crap trees take credit for, "What are you, stupid? Have you not been paying attention?" I plant trees because I hate people I would like to see them wiped off the planet. I side with the trees because they have like a 1 billion year evolutionary head start and none of them whine that global warming will flood the coasts.

On a related note, if there are any predatory alien species waiting to take over the earth I pledge my allegiance to you. If you would give me intergalactic travel or maybe death rays to shoot out of my eyes I will gladly, nee gleefully, destroy anyone and anything that opposes you.

So my job as a tree handler / mulch bagger entailed standing in garage full of trees and getting them for the customers. Someone calls out the name of the tree, I check the label, select the correct tree, put the roots in a bag, fill bag with mulch, give to customer, tell them to go away. Apparently the job of all the old ladies is to tell dumb stories, stand where I'm trying to walk, tell me they can identify trees better than the tag put there by the nursery, and keep me from getting another organic soda, which suck by the way, corporate sponsor.

Do you know what they did next? Wait. That's the tingling in my arm the doctor says I should call him about. Where are my pills, dammit?!

Giant Bladder's Greatest Hits

I don't post very often because I'm doing stuff, like helping Wisconsin pass laws to allow the hunting of cats or trying to figure out why every time I go to a meeting there is someone to ask retardedly stupid questions. If I can somehow get those people classified as feral cats in Wisconsin the world would be perfect.

So I would like to acknowledge my favorite visitors. First is whoever told the heart attack story to people in my old neighborhood. I'm sooo greatful to be worthy of gossip. Then there is my mother, who after reading the site called to tell me that, "I continue to be a disappointment and embarrassment" to her. Then she asked me, "Why can't you be more like your brother?" To which I responded, "Which brother?" She said, "I don't care. Just quit being like you." I told her that I think Hallmark makes a card with that on it. Then she cursed at me in Yiddish and hung up. I didn't even know my mother could speak Yiddish.