Vents: Random Acts of Venting!

[Palehorse]

I have nothing at all against breast feeding.......just think it is kind of odd that a woman would want a picture of her 8 year old child latching on, for the world to see.
WOW, is the only word I found to say when I saw it.

Why do you want to make a religious debate out of it?

There's a difference between a baby and an 8yr old. 

Umm. . . first of all the kid in the picture is 3. . . not 8. . . 

[Bo D]

Umm. . . first of all the kid in the picture is 3. . . not 8. . . 

There they go again. Making up shit as they go along.

Even Faux news reported him as being three years old.

[Henry Hawk]

There they go again. Making up shit as they go along.

Even Faux news reported him as being three years old.

No lie intended, I was making a wild-assed guess based on his size...I am wrong.  My apologies are sincere.

With that said, a three year old is STILL kind of pushing the envelope on suckin on mama, and, to each their own....I just said WOW, because it was on the front cover of Time Magazine.

[Bo D]

No lie intended, I was making a wild-assed guess based on his size...I am wrong.  My apologies are sincere.

With that said, a three year old is STILL kind of pushing the envelope on suckin on mama, and, to each their own....I just said WOW, because it was on the front cover of Time Magazine.

You sure didn't phrase it as a guess ... "odd that a woman would want a picture of her 8 year old child latching on, for the world to see."


Why guess and put out false information when the truth is right there on the bottom right corner of the cover? "Jamie Lynne Grumet, 26, and her three-year-old son"

[Henry Hawk]

You sure didn't phrase it as a guess ... "odd that a woman would want a picture of her 8 year old child latching on, for the world to see."


Why guess and put out false information when the truth is right there on the bottom right corner of the cover? "Jamie Lynne Grumet, 26, and her three-year-old son"

I guess my focal point was not if it was 3 or 8...the point that got me was, a kid old enough to down a big mac (or a happy meal)...tapping into a boob...makes me say "Wow".

But, Olias, I get your jest, and like I said, I was wrong...I have ZERO problem admitting it.

I think this kid could possible be known years from now as the kid on time magazine suckin on mama....again, WOW, is what pops in my mind.  Other than the shock factor of it...why would Time even put it on the front cover?

[me]

3, 8 whatever that's still too old to be breast feeding. 

[The Troll]

3, 8 whatever that's still too old to be breast feeding.

  Wait a minute Big Red, let's not go over board.  I just want to say and it's hard to say, I agree with you on this one, Honeybun.   

[me]

  Wait a minute Big Red, let's not go over board.  I just want to say and it's hard to say, I agree with you on this one, Honeybun.   

On no.....   I think we've agreed on something 4 or 5 times in the last week or two...man I hope that don't mean we're gonna have a blizzard in May or something.... 

[Bo D]

This really, really irritates me.

I send an email with two - maybe three questions. I even number the questions in the list.

And the person only answers the FIRST QUESTION! 

Then, just to prove to myself that the person is a moron ... I send another email with questions two and three - again in a numbered list. I am not disappointed. I again get only one answer.

Don't people read with any comprehension anymore? 

[Sandy Eggo]

This really, really irritates me.

I send an email with two - maybe three questions. I even number the questions in the list.

And the person only answers the FIRST QUESTION! 

Then, just to prove to myself that the person is a moron ... I send another email with questions two and three - again in a numbered list. I am not disappointed. I again get only one answer.

Don't people read with any comprehension anymore? 

I like to use duct tape to hold the pieces together.

[Locutus]

This really, really irritates me.

I send an email with two - maybe three questions. I even number the questions in the list.

And the person only answers the FIRST QUESTION! 

Then, just to prove to myself that the person is a moron ... I send another email with questions two and three - again in a numbered list. I am not disappointed. I again get only one answer.

Don't people read with any comprehension anymore? 

I'm sure you have your email correspondence confused with your communications with 'me' here at the Zone. 

[The Troll]

I guess my focal point was not if it was 3 or 8...the point that got me was, a kid old enough to down a big mac (or a happy meal)...tapping into a boob...makes me say "Wow".

But, Olias, I get your jest, and like I said, I was wrong...I have ZERO problem admitting it.

I think this kid could possible be known years from now as the kid on time magazine suckin on mama....again, WOW, is what pops in my mind.  Other than the shock factor of it...why would Time even put it on the front cover?

  Hey Henry, maybe we could get a little time on the tit, just saying.  They say it's full of vitamin D.   

[Palehorse]

DUMBASS ALERT DUMBASS ALERT DUMBASS ALERT DUMBASS ALERT DUMBASS ALERT DUMBASS ALERT

They are out in force today! First I encounter wide glide dumbasses at Petsmart. Seriously, do you really need to stand in the middle of the aisles and read every fuggin word on a can of dog food? Are you eating this shit or is your dog?

Then I go to Wally World. . . BIG fuggin mistake. There were even larger wide glide dumbasses there. And they were two and three wide as I tried to navigate through the bread aisle and the meat section. Not to mention the jack wagons who see someone they know and decide that right in the middle of the aisle is the place to stop and bullshit about trivial shit like what they had for dinner, what they had for breakfast, and what they are going to have for lunch today. Hey! Asshole! Why don't you both just drop trow and stick your noses up each others asses?!

Then there was Meijer. . . Holy hell. The local rest homes must have been empty this afternoon! They were all at Meijer. Senile geriatrics who are reading every word on the packaging but could not tell you whether they were reading a box of cornflakes or Exlax. Come on! Do you really need to stand and shake and quiver, zoning out, right in the middle of the vegetable aisle! Hey, you'll be one of them soon! Or maybe you already are?

There were so many of them that I felt like a baby needing a diaper change. I think of few of them were lost in there too! One of those fuckers was walking around yelling for Martha. (I told him she was in the fruit section. . . he didn't understand).

This one old lady must have been there since daybreak, because she put her cane into her empty cart, began walking, and all of a sudden just dropped to the floor. I went over to her to see if she was alright, but was soon herded away from the fallen one by the canes and walkers of the mass of senility that encompassed the whole area. Those fuckers clog up the aisles while they vibrate standing still, but let one of them crash and burn and suddenly they move like an Indy car on fast Friday!

Took the paramedics about 20 minutes to get to her. She was still laying in the aisle as I went over to the checkouts.

The checkouts at Meijer. Yet another fucking adventure. The self serve registers were choked with idiots who had glasses on thicker than an old coke bottle, and not a single one of them had apparently ever operated one of those things. Every open self scan lane was choked with people in line, while the red lights flashed on the registers. It reminded me of what it must have been like on 9/11 at the WTC. I got kind of seasick looking at all them assholes standing there quivering like they were having orgasms in line. I wanted to puke.

Here's a novel idea; why don't all you fuckers go over to one of the numerous open and manned registers where competent people can do that shit for you?! Oh hell, never fucking mind. They're empty so I'll go there.  .   .

The paramedics pulled up as I rolled my purchases out to the truck feeling as if I had escaped the twilight zone unscathed. . . But wait. . .

What's this? An Amazonian woman spewing profanity at some clueless Hilljack over something. I took the long way to the truck in order to avoid what promised to be fisticuffs. . . But what does the HillJack do? Yep, you guessed it. . . He runs to the aisle I am walking down to avoid the Amazon woman who is hot on his trail and hell bent to kick his addled brains in. . .

We loaded our shit into the truck and waved to the cops as they were pulling up. Hope they brought a lunch. . . They're going to be there awhile! 

[Sandy Eggo]

LMAO!


Perhaps I was teleported to Indiana w/out realizing it! I missed the sprawled out geezer, but witnessed a little guy getting bitch slapped by his rather tall and portly spouse. I also caught the tail end of an argument between a Walmart greeter and three black youths who he claimed were "obviously only in there to steal something". I guess it was the boisterous way they entered the store that tipped him off. It's a popular tactic for thieves to be as conspicuous as possible when they're attempting to stick something in their pockets undetected.

[me]

DUMBASS ALERT DUMBASS ALERT DUMBASS ALERT DUMBASS ALERT DUMBASS ALERT DUMBASS ALERT

They are out in force today! First I encounter wide glide dumbasses at Petsmart. Seriously, do you really need to stand in the middle of the aisles and read every fuggin word on a can of dog food? Are you eating this shit or is your dog?

Then I go to Wally World. . . BIG fuggin mistake. There were even larger wide glide dumbasses there. And they were two and three wide as I tried to navigate through the bread aisle and the meat section. Not to mention the jack wagons who see someone they know and decide that right in the middle of the aisle is the place to stop and bullshit about trivial shit like what they had for dinner, what they had for breakfast, and what they are going to have for lunch today. Hey! Asshole! Why don't you both just drop trow and stick your noses up each others asses?!

Then there was Meijer. . . Holy hell. The local rest homes must have been empty this afternoon! They were all at Meijer. Senile geriatrics who are reading every word on the packaging but could not tell you whether they were reading a box of cornflakes or Exlax. Come on! Do you really need to stand and shake and quiver, zoning out, right in the middle of the vegetable aisle! Hey, you'll be one of them soon! Or maybe you already are?

There were so many of them that I felt like a baby needing a diaper change. I think of few of them were lost in there too! One of those fuckers was walking around yelling for Martha. (I told him she was in the fruit section. . . he didn't understand).

This one old lady must have been there since daybreak, because she put her cane into her empty cart, began walking, and all of a sudden just dropped to the floor. I went over to her to see if she was alright, but was soon herded away from the fallen one by the canes and walkers of the mass of senility that encompassed the whole area. Those fuckers clog up the aisles while they vibrate standing still, but let one of them crash and burn and suddenly they move like an Indy car on fast Friday!

Took the paramedics about 20 minutes to get to her. She was still laying in the aisle as I went over to the checkouts.

The checkouts at Meijer. Yet another fucking adventure. The self serve registers were choked with idiots who had glasses on thicker than an old coke bottle, and not a single one of them had apparently ever operated one of those things. Every open self scan lane was choked with people in line, while the red lights flashed on the registers. It reminded me of what it must have been like on 9/11 at the WTC. I got kind of seasick looking at all them assholes standing there quivering like they were having orgasms in line. I wanted to puke.

Here's a novel idea; why don't all you fuckers go over to one of the numerous open and manned registers where competent people can do that shit for you?! Oh hell, never fucking mind. They're empty so I'll go there.  .   .

The paramedics pulled up as I rolled my purchases out to the truck feeling as if I had escaped the twilight zone unscathed. . . But wait. . .

What's this? An Amazonian woman spewing profanity at some clueless Hilljack over something. I took the long way to the truck in order to avoid what promised to be fisticuffs. . . But what does the HillJack do? Yep, you guessed it. . . He runs to the aisle I am walking down to avoid the Amazon woman who is hot on his trail and hell bent to kick his addled brains in. . .

We loaded our shit into the truck and waved to the cops as they were pulling up. Hope they brought a lunch. . . They're going to be there awhile! 

That;s exactly why we don't even think about venturing into any of the stores on the weekend.