Sunday, February 10, 2008

ma! get outta my room!


My brother down Dallas way reminded me of my desire to cover condom shoppes (old-timey vocabulary) and the proliferation, if you will, throughout the strip (ha ha) malls of the City of Dallas and/or Dallas County. My most recent visit was filled with neon signs calling out for big, medium, and small…condoms. I have never seen a condom store – though I imagine missing areas or cities in Europe that offer this strip mall service. My first thought is that Dallas wants nothing more than to control the usage and application of condoms. As background, and those who’ve been to Dallas can vouch for me, they have the most ludicrous law(s) concerning drinking; and nothing goes with drinking better than condoms. The first is the somewhat rudimentary ‘state liquor’ store jackassery. Iowa does it, Minnesota does it – and I find them to be progressive...if that means anything. You can buy beer and wine in groceries but you don’t dare touch the hard stuff. It’s a completely perverse and tax-laden economy – not only will I take your money because you want a shot of Maker’s Mark (and who doesn’t?) but I’ll hit you up for overtaxation and governmental control. I’d almost think the Democrats and big government were involved. Funny enough, it’s the conservative, save you from yourself, taxing governments that run this sham. And now I’ve got to deal with condoms? Even though I can't find the city code I know in my heart, deep down in my soul, that Tom "*(^%#@" DeLay is behind this teenage mentality. Anyone named DeLay should...nevermind. The second bit of junk is the ‘private club’ mentality – you can’t drink in the City of Dallas (and any number of smaller cities within an hour of the Big D) unless you are a “member” of the club. This entails you paying $1 to fill out a form that signifies you are a 'member' of the ‘club’ that actually covers ALL of Dallas. Think about this. If I pay my $1 once, and carry the crappy little card around with me everywhere I go, then I can drink for a whole year via spymaster use of golden $1 card. NOBODY carries that thing around all year – you throw it in the garbage. The next time out…you pay another dollar. You can laugh at me for not being diligent enough to carry around my dry cleaning receipt but the fact is I’ll just pay the money to shut them up. It’s like "free returns”….nobody uses them. It’s the process that's gunked up – not me.

So…I’ve paid my dollar at TGI Friday’s, I’ve stopped at the State Liquor Store for some Wild Turkey, and now I’m thinking I’ve got my date right where I want her. All I need are a few…condoms. I can’t actually finish the story because it’s too stupid to imagine myself buying some Strawberry-flavored from Tom DeLay.

The other thing you get in the DFW metroplex is road talk. I’ve tested the waters with the MedTech in the Hosptial thusly: Is the High-5 done?


“Dang if it ain’t done!”



I headed to the DFW tourism office and snatched me up a few postcards showing the High-5. Here’s a link to the Flickr photoset of the High-5…it's over 1,100 pictures and I KNOW it isn't some contractor...it's the damn High-5!!!

I got through the damn High-5 in 26 minutes today. I used to be stuck in the pile of pig slop for 67 minutes….”

Here’s a shot at the Superdelegate issue from an insider. Any Super-Ds who jump now – for both sides – should be barred. They're there for a reason. Sorry, that was a politics jump.

Here’s my chant: Nebraska, Louisiana, Washington, Maine, Maryland, D.C., and Virginia…

T.

P.S. I apologize to all the mothers for my condom talk. It's the High-5!

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