KB's Top Five Ways To Piss Me Off: Airport Edition

On Monday I had the great pleasure of flying Delta Airlines.

I say “great pleasure” because—let’s face it—we’re F-ING FLYING. In the old days, going from Pierre to New York would have taken months, years maybe… and judging from how well I did playing Oregon Trail years ago, I might not have even made it there. Now, all I have to do is hop on a plane, deal with the overwhelming body odor of the person next to me and I’ll be in New York in a few hours. That’s pretty sweet.

But let’s face it; there are a lot of things about flying that absolutely SUCK. I personally think there are a number of ways airports/airlines could improve things. Idea: get me a private jet so I don’t have to deal with the stupidity inherent in 99.9% of the population. Anyway, until airports/airlines change—and considering the fact the peanuts I was given today were from 1980, I don’t hold much hope for change—we are just stuck with the current system so… with no further ado:

KB’s Top 5 Ways to Piss Me Off: Air Travel Edition

1.     Bringing Your Child

Most of you already know how I feel about children so I won’t elaborate too much except to say… THEY MAKE LEASHES FOR CHILDREN NOW, THINK ABOUT PURCHASING ONE. Sure leashes look stupid but they work! Would you ever think about letting your dog run around an airport without a leash? Nope, but your dog doesn’t sprint around shrieking then yelling “Mommy! Look! Mommy!” every five seconds like that snot nosed hellion you call your child does. Chances are, if you’re flying with a child, you’re taking a family vacation. Chances are, if your child is under the age of 4, they won’t even remember the trip. Do us both a favor, and stay home.

2.     Brining Your Food on the Plane

So you ran to catch this flight and only had time to grab some food to eat on the plane? Thaaaaat’s fiiiiiiine. Don’t mind me. I’m just the person sitting next to you as scarf down your rotten egg salad sandwich that smells as though someone scooped up some week old road kill and slapped it between two pieces of bread. Mmm. Seriously. If you’re going to eat, grab something like chips or salad or a granola bar or some other non-pungent food. That way you still get to fill your stomach and I don’t have to use your purse to empty mine.

3.     Seatmates That Want to Talk to You

My seatmates on Monday were absolutely delightful. The first guy never said a word to me and spent the whole time reading. The next girl slept the whole time and never bothered me (other than with her gross mouth breathing and not-so-subtle subtle nose picking). Listen; if we’re lucky, you and I will never see each other again so why make small chat with me and pretend you care about my life because—make no mistake—I don’t care about yours. At all. So why ruin this good thing we have going by trying to talk? Not to mention, attempting to talk to a stranger on a plane is fraught with complications. For instance: how long do we talk for? The whole flight or until the plane takes off or what? Also, what if you say something they find offensive or vice versa? You are stuck 6 inches away from them for the next 13 hours! So, do you see now why it’s better if we both just respect each other’s privacy (and by that I mean: F OFF)

4.     Airport Prices

I’m not really talking about the actual cost of an airplane ticket. Yes, we can both agree it’s pretty steep but like I already pointed out… YOU’RE F-ING FLYING. I think I can pay 400 bucks for convenience. I’m talking about the prices of literally everything sold in airports (which apparently are now substitute shopping malls with parking for jets). Let’s say I’m really hungry. I have multiple options: the 7 dollar salad, the 6 dollar piece of pizza, the 9 dollar sandwich, or do I splurge and go for the 15 dollar hamburger? All of which, by the way, taste like shit. This outrageous extortion is a malicious plot of the airports who aim to squeeze every last penny out of you. Once you’re through security, you’re screwed! Your only options are to eat at anyone of the airport vendors or starve yourself. Pretty smart move on the airports’ part isn’t it? Assholes.

5.     Airline Workers

I’ve always heard that United States Postal workers are some of the most disgruntled employees in the world but I think they must be a distant second to airline workers. Yeah, I’m sure working at an airport with a bunch of tense people worried about missing their flights, entitled assholes who don’t understand why everything isn’t on their schedule, and children (see #1) wouldn’t be much fun but I simply handed you my boarding pass, why are you acting like I vomited on your face then asked you to clean up the mess? Also, is it just me or does it seem like all airport workers are having contests with each other to see who can be the most unpleasant?

Yeah, flying is definitely cool. And yes; I do love those little shortbreads they give out on flights. But… can’t we just all chill the F out, put our chairs in the upright and locked position, and have a smooth flight without you pissing me off? Apparently not.

Also, if you kick my seat one more time, I will throw you out of the plane with nothing but your seat cushion (which also serves as a floatation device). You know who you are.

Wednesday, August 24

Sorry world; no new blog today.

I've got better things to do. Like pack. And workout. And Sleep.

So check back next week and hope that I am motivated enough to finish one before the first day of school. No promises.

College Survival Guide

Rapidly approaching is the time of year we all love to hate and hate to love: school is starting.

In a little over a week I will be heading back to the concrete jungle to continue my “higher” education. And by “higher” I mean “learn how to be pretentious on so many different levels that it will blow your mind”

So, I’ve taken the liberty of making a college survival list for all those newbies leaving home for the first time (or even some seasoned veterans whose brains have been so addled by drugs and alcohol they no longer remember)

1.    Never ever ever ever hook up with someone the first weekend of school. If you do, that person is guaranteed to be in every single one of your classes.

2.     
Doing hard drugs is fine in moderation. I mean, who doesn't like to do a line or two before class? But don't let it get out of hand. People love that girl who shoots up in the back of class but nobody likes the crazy running around campus talking to trees.

3.     Spring break is a magical time when you have even less responsibility than normal and no matter how low you may fall, there is always at least one person lower.

4.     
Never take your clothes off for money. It may seem like a good idea to strip to pay the bills but there is nothing more awkward than your economics professor shoving money into your g-string.

5.     
Indoor slip 'n slides seem like a good idea but there are a lot of ways that can go wrong and guess what? Shit gets real. Fast.


6.     If your grades start to slip, offer sexual favors to professors. This may seem like an ethically wrong plan but hey, do you think CEOs are worried about ethics? If you care about ethics I’ll pick you up a burger king application. You can be the one to tell the customer about the roaches.


7.     When you get kicked out of a restaurant, don’t go back. You think they won’t remember you, but they always do. Then you have to explain to your parents why you thought it was a good idea to do an abstract painting with ketchup and mustard on the walls at 3 am. (btw if someone from Denny’s is reading this, HOW MANY MORE TIMES DO I HAVE TO APOLOGIZE?)


8.     The most important thing to remember is that “I’m in college” is a good excuse for everything.

“why is one of your eyebrows shaved?” – I’m in college


“do you know there is a penis on your forehead?” – It’s cool, I’m in college


“didn’t you know that you can’t put metal in the microwave?”- no, cuz I’m in college


“it’s against the rules to climb into the polar bear cage”- whatevs, I’m in college


“1 pack of beer, 3 packs of ramen noodles, and mayonnaise. Is that all?” – yeah, I’m in college

Now, let’s all go back to school and remember what it’s really about: alcohol and bad decisions!

KB's Top Five Ways To Piss Me Off: Grocery Store Edition

Back by popular demand is another edition of “KB’s Top 5 Ways to Piss Me Off”

Last time, I discussed the top 5 ways to piss me off while I’m working at the pool. Since then, I’m sure I could add many, many, MANY new things to that list but I thought, “why limit myself to one arena of complaints? There are stupid people everywhere simply waiting for me to post a blog about them”

The rant du jour is people in grocery stores.

I don’t know if obese America’s eyes glaze over when they walk into a store filled with fatty, sugary, delicious, highly processed food or if the majority of Americans are that stupid all of the time but walking into a grocery store is a guaranteed headache.

So, with no further ado, here are the top 5 ways to piss me off in a grocery store:

1.     Driving your vehicle

I know you need somewhere to stash all those packages of ramen noodles that you just bought but chances are, if you are parked within a 5 car radius of me or driving through the parking lot anywhere near me, I hate you. If you are under the age of 35 I’m assume you typically drive way too fast through the parking meaning I have about 1.2 seconds to slam on my brakes before I hit you. Of course, when I slam on my brakes, my freshly opened Mountain Dew sloshes everywhere. Two strikes, mother f@$#&*r. If you are over the age of 35, I assume you drive way too slowly, meaning, by the time you get pulled out of your spot and both of us are free to drive away, not only will my Mountain Dew be so hot as to render it undrinkable but I will have devoured half of my just purchased groceries under the mistaken belief I would be stranded there over night.

2.     Using a shopping cart

I get it; we all have a lot of crap we need to buy in the grocery store but… most of you seem to be unable to handle the simple task of driving a shopping cart. I know a lot of carts have broken, squeaky, lazy wheels but I’m talking driver error. Grocery store aisles are specifically designed so two shopping carts can comfortably pass each other so please explain to me the reasoning behind driving it down the middle—presumably with your head up your ass—then parking it in there as you browse the isle at the speed of a turtle. Also, many people tend to leave their shopping carts in the middle of the parking lot meaning other people may accidentally strike them with their vehicles, making a dent which will cost 452 dollars to repair… But that’s a different story for a different time.

3.     Asking if you can help me find anything

I’m sure store managers all over the country constantly remind their employees to be friendly and helpful but there are few things I hate more than being asked whether I need help finding something. Considering the fact that aisles of grocery stores are almost always labeled with what can be found in them and most grocery stores are set up in basically the same way, I find it extremely insulting to my intelligence that you think I need you to hold my hand and lead me through the store—it doesn’t take a genius to know that milk is located in the refrigerated section. It also makes me extremely self-conscious that someone is watching me over my shoulder: did I do something wrong? Do they think I’m shoplifting? What if they judge me for buying this brand rather than that brand? Needless to say, being under the microscope like that is hard on my already high blood pressure.

4.     Standing in the check-out line

Once you’ve completed the arduous task of grocery shopping, you get the added pleasure of waiting in a check out line. I’m serious, convicted killers have spent less time in jail than I’ve spent in some of those check out lines. The absolute worst is when you have only one item, the “10 items or less” line is closed and the person in front of you is buying enough to stock her bomb shelter to survive a nuclear holocaust. I actually had an incident at Wal-mart the other day when a woman like that essentially raced to get in front of me in line. I had one item. She had approximately 3,745. And she insisted on going in front of me. Needless to say, I followed her out into the parking lot and slit her tires with my Bowie knife (which, incidentally, was the item I was purchasing)

5.     Extreme couponing

The economy sucks. Unemployment is ridiculously high. No one has any money. Buuuuut… that’s no excuse for extreme couponing. First of all, I should define what I consider “extreme”: if you have more than 8 coupons that you are planning on using at one time, I consider you to be extreme. Now, before you bitch to me about how much money you can save using coupons, I’m going to present a hypothetical situation to illustrate how using this many coupons can actually cost you money. Helen uses 45 coupons on 60 items meaning she spends 160 dollars on groceries rather than 200. However, Helen was in line in front of KB who had to wait 3 hours for Helen to get all of her coupons rung up. KB could not wait that long and beat Helen. Helen spent the next 3 weeks recuperating in a hospital. At the end of the stay, Helen spent 50,000 dollars. That’s just not smart math, you guys.

So, next time you are in a grocery store buying twice your weight in zebra cakes, just remember WWKBWMTD (What Would KB Want Me To Do?)

The Legend of Poopy Feet

This week is my last week as a swimming lessons teacher. Needless to say, I am heart broken. So, as I try to hold together the pieces of my heart, enjoy this true story.

“The Legend of Poopy Feet”

It was a sunny summer day that started the same as any other. I woke up at 5 AM, ran 10 miles, milked the cows, horses, and llamas, and translated an Old English manuscript. I then headed to the pool to teach swimming lessons. Out of my numerous other contributions to society, such as my ground breaking research in cancer treatment, my creation of the first car running on Mountain Dew, or single handedly solving the world hunger crisis by exporting all morbidly obese Americans to Africa, it is my work in swimming lessons that I am the most proud of.

On this day, I was teaching an entry level class with a good friend of mine, Raeann Schlenker. We had an unusually small class with only two little girls in it.

The little girl that is the focus of our story will be known from this point on as “Poopy Feet”. Poopy Feet was the delightful result of inbreeding and an endless supply of McDonalds. From this description, it is obvious that she was not only extremely attractive but also intelligent and coordinated… NOT

Regardless of this child’s numerous setbacks and dismal future including a stint on “16 and Pregnant” followed by “Are You Smarter than a Fifth Grader?” (hint: no she isn’t) she was an upbeat child with a smile always plastered on her face.

Today was different.

We should have known.

We only have ourselves to blame.

After being moody and sluggish all through lessons, I asked her if anything was wrong. She said she was fine but asked if she could go to the bathroom and being the nice teacher I am (and not wanting to swim in this girl’s pee) I told her to go ahead but hurry back.

As Poopy Feet began to crawl up the ramp to get out of the pool, literally moving at the speed of snail in slow motion, I yelled “Hurry up!”

As Raeann and I watched her stand up nasty, runny, chunky (and any other disgusting word you can think of) diarrhea squirted out of her suit, down her leg, and into the pool.

(Pause for dramatic effect)

INTO THE POOL.

No one has ever seen jaws drop as quickly as ours did but before we had time to recover, who should trot on out of the bathroom and slide back into the pool? Poopy Feet.

Because she had only been in the bathroom for 2 seconds I asked if everything was ok. Poopy Feet responded that she couldn’t go because there was something in the toilet and asked me to go back there with her. Trying to hold back vomit, I follow her, only to discover a little track of poopy footprints leading to the bathroom from her first trip, a little track of poopy footprints leading away from the bathroom from her failed attempt, and a fresh track of poopy footprints leading back to the bathroom where there was no telling what I would find.

Surprise twist! There was nothing wrong with the toilet other than the fact it had a colored cleaner in it. Understandably, the cleaner was very frightening to Poopy Feet who prefers to walk around covered in her own excrement.

At this point I left Poopy Feet in the bathroom alone to go find her mother and find a quiet corner to vomit up everything I have ever eaten.

It didn’t take long to locate Poopy Feet’s mom who was, not surprisingly, everything you would expect. Some variation of an “I Love America Shirt”, jeans which did a good job of highlighting her muffin top, some sort of hair cut reminiscent of the1980’s, and the mannerisms of a milk cow. After locating the mother (who had actually seen the whole thing but for some reason decided not to intervene as her daughter shat all over the premises) I brought her into the bathroom where Poopy Feet was only to discover a vision of horror that still haunts my sleep.

I opened the stall door and (from left to right) saw Poopy Feet, the bottoms of her swim suit, a pile of shit, and about 2 inches away from this pile… the toilet.

My day was ruined. My summer was ruined. My life was ruined.