Old People Stink!

Okay, let me preface this by saying two things:

1) While writing this blog entry it dawned on me that age doesn't necessarily determine whether or not you're a dumb asshole, as much as your actions, So save any outrage you may have for your AARP representative.

2) I realize that the woman in the bottom right-hand corner of the collage is not technically 'old,' but she WAS being an asshole and besides, I needed another picture for my collage.

Now that that's over, let's turn this mutha OUT!

[1] First, I must apologize for the blurry image, but it was the only one that I took where the woman was facing me. I found this gutter-mouthed granny at the local Denny's late one night. Being the perceptual antenna that I am, I instantly honed in on her extremely foul-mouthed conversation. Actually, this one was a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it was funny to hear an elderly woman talking like a sailor with Tourettes. On the other hand, she went on WAY too long with it. I wanted to smack her in the face with a Moon Over My Hammy platter and say "Shut the fuck up already! Take it home, asshole!" I'm such a delicate flower.

[2] Ugh. This bitch would NOT let up at the local shipping store. She was mailing some bullshit Walmart special somewhere and just wasn't going to be satisfied with however it was being packed. She kept on and on AND ON about it. The woman checking her out was using a proper-sized box, syrofoam peanuts AND bubblewrap. Even I couldn't figure out what more she wanted. I was tempted to offer the suggestion that the woman stick it up her ass and twinkletoe it on over to its' recipient. And naturally, as with all old people, she didn't want to pay anything for the service. I wanted to punch her in the face and yell "Hit the bricks, you cheap bitch!"

[3] This is Arianna Huffington's grandma, Huff-n-Puff Huffington. I swear to god she exerted more energy huffing, puffing and irritably shifting from foot to foot, than most low-impact aerobic workouts. Sure, I hate to wait in line, too. But, you know what? IT'S A PART OF LIFE!! Get the fuck over it already! I love how old people feel like they are some kind of exception to the fuckin' rule. And if it's a matter of having tender toes or some such other bullshit ailment that makes them think they should be exempt from life's routines, then stay the fuck home. Make a fuckin' cocoon and curl up and die already. Old people that think society owes them something simply because they still have a pulse are one of my number one pet peeves! Ech. Good riddance!

[4] If only Jesus had a site on his life rifle. This dumbass was at the aforementioned shipping establishment on another day, when I walked in. He was in the process of some serious prayer peddling. He would have went on for at least another 10 minutes, had I not rescued the poor woman (she's from India) who runs the place by approaching the counter to mail a package.

He was hawking some bullshit church (Christian, naturally) and had the audacity to make some kind of overt, sideway comment about terrorism to this woman!! Something to the effect that Jesus doesn't want 'us' to blow things up. Gah. I wanted to pummel him with Jesus' love, disguised as a sock full of nickels.

He went on to outline the church program that he brought with him and give it to her before he left. Ugh! I'm mystified why she let him ramble as long as she did. I hate religious fools who force feed unsuspecting people on Jesus and his supposed teachings (as interpreted by them).

[5] These two dingleberries stood right in the middle of the exit at the local Kroger. Geniuses, I tell you. Never moving or acknowledging that they were blocking people from fuckin' entering and or leaving the goddamn store! WTF? And they stayed there for a good 8 minutes or more! Another of my pet peeves: stupid assholes at the grocery store who think they are the only one around, who leave their cart in the middle of aisles, yet when I move it, they come a runnin'. Whatever. Suck it, dumbass.

[6] This is Grouchy McPuffybush. She's really important. She stood at the bakery and yelled "Hello!?" all huffily until someone came a runnin' to serve her fat ass. 'Cause she couldn't have possibly done without that whopping $4 purchase. Whatever, bitch. It's called self-serve, asshole. That's what the goddamn tongs are for.

Then she whips over to the deli, where I follow, to buy some pepper turkey. She's all bitchysassy with the guy there too. I wanted to tell her "You know what, bitch, just because you're in a hurry to get somewhere, don't expect everyone else to ask "how high" when you say 'jump.' Fuck you and the broom you rode in on." But being the nurturing caregiver that I am, I didn't.

Then came the fun part. She had just ordered a whopping half pound of the shitacular Primo Taglio brand bologna, when another woman came up and waited on me. I told her I wanted a pound of the Plantation pepper turkey (it has freshly ground black pepper all throughout! Mmmm!). She asked If I wanted to get the Primo Taglio brand instead because it was on sale. I said "No, that's alright. I prefer the Plantation." And she said "You don't like Primo Taglio?" And I said "Nah, it's alright for cheese, but that's about it." To which Ms. Wonderful makes a haughty "Hmph!" sound, shoots me a dirty look, collects her $4 in bologney, pivots and leaves. Lol! I embrace my pettiness. I urge you to do the same.