Christmas means war.
Let me explain why.
We’ve lived in “The Lakes” section of West Las Vegas for about ten years, now. When we first moved onto this street, it was a quiet neighborhood made up mostly of retired people. Now, younger families with kids have flooded into the area. Our street also has many different nationalities — including Canadians, Palestinians, Chinese, Russians, Mexicans, Egyptians, Persians, and Romanians. We even have a few Mormons. They’re from some weird place called Utah.
During those earlier years, a few of our neighbors put up decorations over the holidays. Usually, the lights and decorations were modest. A few strands of lights here and there. A lit up Christmas tree. Maybe a Santa Claus or a manger scene.
Moreover, decorating usually began during the first week in December. Thanksgiving was regarded as separate holiday. Imagine that. No one dared to put up lights at least until November had ended.
But something happened.
Like most people, I receive unsolicited credit card offers, on occasion.
Whether we like them nor not, credit cards have become a modern-day necessity. So, I try to maximize their purchasing power by using them to accumulate free airline mileage or bonus cash.
Just about every major retailer now offers either a Visa or MasterCard. I even received an offer from PetSmart, recently. PetSmart! I declined their generous offer. Sorry kitties, I’m not paying a 23 percent annual interest rate so you can stockpile a cabinet full of Pounce and Whiskas.
The most insulting credit card offers I’ve received are usually by the bottom feeders, which are banks that prey upon the financially insolvent. These are nothing more than seedy loan sharks masquerading as a major financial institutions. A typical offer includes a low credit line (sometimes as low as $500), a ridiculous interest rate (typically 29 percent), a preposterous number of penalties if you dare miss a payment or exceed the credit line, and a whopping annual fee. These dope dealers essentially prey upon the vulnerability of millions of desperate people — including millions of unemployed or under-employed Americans — taking advantage of those who are least able to afford bondage to the banking industry.
When I get these offers in the mail, I have a ritual. Here’s what I do.
Why’s it so goddamned difficult to get a decent margarita? I mean, what the fuck!
The recipe is simple. Simple! The act of mixing the cocktail isn’t difficult. But for some reason, which I fail to contemplate, most bars and restaurants — even highly-rated Mexican restaurants — serve shitty-ass margaritas made with no love nor care. It’s time to start sending these abominations back. A major education campaign must be launched, and I’m here to do it.
I’ve had it. I’m livid!
Where’s the pride? How can an owner, a manager, or a server put out such lackluster product, when a margarita should be the centerpiece attraction? How does a restaurant keep its doors open using cheap tequila and rock-gut triple sec poured out of pathetic plastic bottles combined with disgusting powder-based mixers and have the audacity to call that a “margarita?” It’s like putting lipstick on a pig and calling that Anne Hathaway.
Case in point: Whoever created the margarita pictured in the photo below should never be able to set foot behind a bar again. Ever! The criminal should be digging a ditch or serving on a chain gag. Bitch slap his ass! I mean, look at this travesty! And study carefully. Drop what you are doing and pay attention!
This is important!
We’re having a field day with this. It’s a Liberal’s laugh-a-thon. A three-ring binder circus.
Mitt Romney’s “Women in binders” comment is quite possibly the most memorable tagline of the 2012 Presidential Election. It’s right up there with golden gems of the past. Recall — “Extremism in defense of liberty is no vice….” “You’re no Jack Kennedy,” and “Are you better off now than you were four years ago?”
Apparently, Mitt Romney’s management style pretty much comes down to two things — balance sheets and binders. If it’s profitable, go for it. If it’s unprofitable, eliminate it. But there’s a lot more to what I will term “Bindergate.”
Here’s a closer look at the files:
When I first heard the annoncement today, I thought it had to be a spoof.
There was no way this could be real.
But apparently, it’s true.
Donald Trump, the failed multi-bankrupted blowhard buffoon is actually releasing a new men’s fragrance. The cologne is called……