Ah, internet radio, where Freur’s Doot Doot is just as exciting and vital as it was in 1983…
Really…
There are a lot of things that annoy me about people who smoke pot. The one which bugs me most, though, is the way they have this tendency to think that everyone else on the planet shares their particular vice, approves of it, and gets all the little jokes, etc…
I grew out of marijuana at age 17. However, I recognize that other people have the right to (and will) do pretty much as they please as long as it has no effect on me, no matter how juvenile I believe their behavior to be…
For those who don’t quite understand, here’s what “no effect on me” means:
- Keep it away from me at work, and don’t have “Happy 420” signs on your desk where clients can see them.
- Don’t presume that I won’t tell someone in authority when I see you dealing drugs at work. I probably won’t, but you don’t know that. At least make an EFFORT toward decorum and propriety.
- Do not make the assumption that I care or want to hear your babbling anecdotes while you’re stoned. In fact, don’t even make the assumption that I want to be around you at all.
- Do NOT smoke that nasty-smelling stuff around me. Offer me the same level of courtesy that I offered you when I used to smoke cigarettes.
I may not have mentioned this before, but one of the really cool things about my marriage to Mark is that he came with a turntable as part of his dowry. It’s nice being a vinyl family again, and it’s really making me crave all the stuff I have back east in the closet of my old bedroom at Mom and Dad’s…
But right now I’m just enjoying this past weekend’s cheap haul, including Kate Bush and Joan Armatrading and even more Joan Armatrading, not to mention Red Rider and Peter Garbriel in German. Most interesting find, though, was a 1987 album I didn’t know existed by a Chapel Hill band called Other Bright Colors. Loved the band in those days. Love the lead singer even more…
Am I suspended in Gaffa?
Things I’ve learned so far at this week’s training class down by the airport:
- It takes me about 25% less time to drive the twelve miles to the airport than it does to ride the bus less than two miles downtown.
- “Breakfast will be served” does not necessarily mean you shouldn’t eat before leaving home. Nor does “lunch will be served” necessarily mean that you shouldn’t bring something along.
- Your bladder will NEVER be in synch with the break schedule.
- No matter how many times you are assured that the “permit required” signs in the parking lot are strictly for show, you will continue to wonder whether you will have a car to go to at the end of the day.
- Why no, it really WASN’T necessary to do all the pre-work before the class, silly…
S.F. cops investigate role of ex-police chief in son’s Arizona brawl:
Fagan Sr. is not new to off-duty incidents related to alcohol. He was suspended after a drunken clash with California Highway Patrol officers in 1990, and 10 years later, Fagan Sr. left the scene of a crash, leaving his daughter behind to be with the motorist.
How and why did this guy ever become Chief of Police to begin with? I can’t help thinking the explanation somehow involves Willie Brown and oral sex. But I’m just speculating…
Unrelated: isn’t there a leash law in San Francisco? And if so, how can I politely remind my neighbors — a/k/a “Slimy Yuppie Guy with Trophy Dog” and “Granola Chick Who Probably Thinks Restraint Will Damage Rover’s Self-esteem” — of this fact?