Update: 02/27/07
I would like to take a moment and mention my lovely neighbor, the chain saw guy. Every morning at 7 am, I will be sitting in the floor doing my yoga calmly centering myself for the coming day when suddenly the sound of this ferocious machine shatters the morning calm. Like clockwork, I will hear the zipping splutter of the crank cord being pulled and then the earth-shattering braying of this gasoline powered Ent terror blasting through the crisp winter morning air. Then for what seems like hours, this man and his trusty chainsaw will proceed to rip apart every tree it can find until the sun wanes in the afternoon sky. Days and days have I put up with this racket so much so I am shocked when I leave the house to find that ever tree in a two mile radius is still standing. I can't help but ask myself what in the hell is he doing tucked away in his backyard with that chattering over-powered machine of tree death. He has to be sawing something up to be making all of that racket. I have seen his wife leave and they have no children so he isn't cutting up his family. I don't think I have seen any strange cars or him making a midnight with a tarp wrapped something in the back of his Chevy.

But to be honest that is beside the point. It is really none of my business really what he does. I just wish he would have the common courtesy to wait until after 8am before waking the dead with that machine of his. He is driving me crazy with it so much so that I have been half praying that it end in a freak wood chipper accident. And yes I already know that I am a horrible person so there is no need to remind me.

Update: 03/07/07
Germs. I have a bit of a phobia about them. It's not that I am really scared of getting sick I just hate the down time that is always invariable required to get over whatever disease happens to be going around. Some people like being confined to their beds and to be swept up into a haze of bad afternoon television and medication but I for one loath it. I am a rather frenetic person so being confined for any number of days to recover from an illness makes me crazier than a bag full of rabid badgers. And of course when I do get sick I refuse to slow down which has the effect of making the infection worse and longer. You would think I would have learned by now to just stay in bed but my being a stubborn old coot has to be maintained.

So instead of surrendering to it I just do whatever is in my power to try and not get sick. To that end I have gotten in the habit of disinfecting everything I can get my freshly sanitized hands on. I have also become some sort of savant when it comes to household cleaners. I even have a dedicated closet full of them. If I see some new fangled scrubbing bubble on the television you can bet money or the moon that I will have it in that closet by the end of the week. But my favorites are the hospital grade concoctions that require gloves and a respirator because I know all those little microbes are kicking the bucket on contact. My obsession has become that serious. I am maniacal. I am dedicated. You could do major surgery in my kitchen.

Since I am not completely weird I do leave the house from time to time to forage for groceries and to buy more crap at my local discount department store. So as I navigate my buggy with the newly sanitized push bar through the throngs of people I am constantly reminded of the infestations lurking around me. We have the small child perched in a cart's kiddy seat oozing green slime from every orifice. Then there is the portly woman with her hand stitched navy suit and perfectly coiffed hair pawing at the apples with dirty finger nails. But to top it all off is the sniffling spotty bagboy that sneezes his putrid juice all over your nice sealed purchases as he lifts them into a paper bag. The experience can be terrifying. Every person becomes an incubator. Each passing face leers back at you as a festering puss filled meat tubule reeking of disease and filth. If people wouldn't point and laugh I have put serious thought to showing up at the food store in a sealed hazmat suit. I would either become the talk of the town or beaten with clubs in the town square.

But rather than live in ridicule or constant fear I just carry on. I do bring home the occasional pathogen which I deal with. I also prefer to secretly clean at home rather than go public and wait for the appearance of Nurse Ratchet to carry me off to the nut farm. But to be honest the only thing that I have ever asked for, pleaded for, is this... cover your freakin' mouths people when you cough or sneeze. It makes my crazy so much easier to deal with.

Update: 04/07/07
You know technology for the most part is a good thing. Much of it has made great strides improving our lives and adding convenience. Medical technology has made amazing advances while astronomers now have the capabilities to see distant planets. Our mechanical prowess is astonishing. But every so often human invention makes a misstep and when it does it is usually a horrible one. We have the atom bomb, genetically altered super viruses and the at home vacuum haircutting kit to show for it. But there is one thing in my opinion that eclipses most and that is the Self Checkout Systems at shopping centers.

To be honest, I don't really like to shop. I get bored rather quickly unless I have someone to play with. I usually know exactly what I want so my shopping consists of me getting in and out as quickly as possible. I prefer not to dally. I am most efficient. With that being said you would think that I would be excited at the prospect of checking out quickly. Well I am not... because the damn things hate me. I swear those Self Checkout computers see me coming.

Usually I have no trouble with technology. Obviously we get along quite well since I built this website myself and most of my work is digital these days. But every once in a while, I am granted the pleasure of running into a piece of machinery that despises me. I have had more than a few encounters with demonic cell phones and insane man-eating printers. But for some reason, those pesky Self Checkout machines loathe me with such a vengeance you would think I was Richard Nixon. I can scan two items and the stupid things will lock-up without fail. Then I am subjected to a lot of flashing lights and the attendant muttering obscenities under their breath while attempting fix whatever I have done. Even if I do manage to scan my purchases, I will no doubt be unable to place the item in the plastic bag with enough force for it to register with the system. I am then treated to:

"You have not placed the item in the bag. Please place the item in the bag to proceed. You have not placed the item in the bag. Please place the item in the bag to proceed. You have not placed the item in the bag. Please place the item in the bag to proceed. You have not placed the item in the bag. Please place the item in the bag to proceed. You have not placed the item in the bag. Please place the item in the bag to proceed. You have not placed the item in the bag. Please place the item in the bag to proceed."

This usually results in another obscenity grumbling attendant running to the rescue while I desperately try to keep myself from making a quick trip to the car for a baseball bat.

So these days I try to avoid them whenever possible. If they don't like me then I will leave them to scan the little barcodes of other customers in peace. Besides I actually enjoy having someone I can talk to while I am at a register. I also have someone to yell at when they forget to properly deactivate the security tags on my DVD's. At least that is what I thought I could do.

Last week while making a quick food run, I was accosted by some manager-bagger-checkout attendant person demanding I use the Self Checkout Machine. I was standing in line at the checkout counter with my shopping basket minding my own business when this obviously deranged person speeds over to me and wrenches the basket out of my hands. I was so shocked that I didn't know what to do. I just stood there. When this woman realized I hadn't followed her she starts screaming at me waving her arms around like she was bringing in a plane. Well I came to my senses and simply told her "no". Instead of returning my purchases to my person, she dumps them at one of machines and stands and stares at me like she was mentally willing me to obey her! I decided right then I wasn't budging an inch from that checkout line. When it was my turn I made the guy working the register fetch my basket for me.

So the moral of this story is this: If I wanted to use the Self Check-out Machine I would have used it. I don't need some demented harpy snatching my purchases out of my hands just because I chose to have a human ring me up rather than fight with that ridiculous machine. Some of us are not going to take it anymore. And if you invent something, make sure it works for everyone before forcing it on the public. We would appreciate the effort.

This rant was brought to you by the good folks at Evil R Us, providing usable evil to the masses since the 1282.