March 26, 2008
An Open Letter from Thinking Fool to the Cleaning Lady Assigned to my Hotel Room
Dear Hotel Cleaning Lady,
I left you a three dollar tip on day one, just a little something to let you know I appreciated the room being made up nicely when I arrived. I left five dollars for you yesterday, again just a little something to express my appreciation. After leaving you eight bucks in two days – much more than you’re accustomed to receiving (I asked the front desk what people usually leave at this dump because I didn’t want to be a cheap bastard) – I was surprised when I got back to the room yesterday afternoon and noticed that you left the ironing board and iron sitting exactly where I left them (out and about) instead of returning them to the closet.
Did you not have enough time to return them to their original resting place?
I’m trying to figure out exactly what you did with your time.
It might have taken you five minutes to vacuum, but that’s only if you suffered about eight epileptic seizures in the process. One wouldn’t compare the amount of carpet in this room to a Brazilian wax, but you also wouldn’t think “Amazon forest” either. In other words, there’s a little carpet on the floor, but not a whole lot.
It might have taken you four minutes to clean my bathroom, but that’s only if you stopped to take a shit in the middle of the process. You certainly didn’t touch any of my toiletries. To the contrary, they were scattered about on the counter like blood at a Manson Family crime scene. And you definitely didn’t bother giving me a new mini-lotion bottle even though my original one is only about a quarter full at this point. (Despite what you might be thinking, no, that’s not where the lotion went. Lately, my skin has been dryer than an 85-year-old woman’s cooch, so lotion has been a necessity.)
Basically, you didn’t do shit. You even did a horrendous job making the bed. Hell, I could have had my hands bound behind my back, leaving me with just my mouth, cock, and feet to make the bed, and I would have done a better job than you did, and I suck at making beds.
Thus, even though I usually leave between 3-6 dollars a day (and sometimes as much as 10) for cleaning people when I’m traveling, I’m not leaving you jack crap tomorrow. And I know I’m coming back to this place in the future, and I’m going to remember your name, so I know not to tip you in the future unless you actually provide some level of service.
Hope you’ve had a great March.
Yours,
Thinking Fool
March 20, 2008
First, the Rude D.C. People, Then the Crazy Man in the Middle East
Does anyone else think West Coast drivers are a lot politer than East Coast drivers?
More often than not, I’ll let people merge when they need to merge, change lanes when they need to change lanes, turn when they need to turn, etc.
More often than not, the people I allow to do these things never wave or express any sort of demonstrative appreciation.
Sometimes I think they just don’t realize someone is making their lives a little bit easier. That’s what I hope, at least. Other times, I think, “I should stop being a friendly driver. No one appreciates it.”
When I lived west of the Rockies, it seems like people extended a wave of thanks more often on the road. Maybe I’m just imagining things, but for my money’s worth, D.C. drivers are incredibly rude. I guess I’d be ruder too if I learned how to drive in a place that looks like it allowed its roads to be designed by a fourth grade student at a special needs school.
And then there is the subway ride…
Folks (I’m trying to sound like Joe Biden), it’s very simple. When there are people trying to get on a pretty-congested train and there’s some breathing space in the middle of the car, you move to the middle of the car. You do NOT remain standing near the doorway, bunched together like a bunch of people trying to have an orgy. Tourists are excused from this behavior because they’re generally idiots (though I like them and try to help them and enjoy having them in the nation’s capital!). However, as for the D.C. residents who make boarding trains nearly impossible because they can’t stand to move a few feet to let people board the subway, to you, I quote Pedro Cerrano from the movie Major League, “Chingate!” (Could be the greatest baseball movie ever made.)
And of course what’s an Easter holiday without Mr. Nutjob himself issuing an audio warning about the grave punishment that will result from depicting Muhammad in a cartoon. I’ve already written a few entries relating to this type of behavior. If you haven’t read them before, by all means, stop what you’re doing and read these babies by clicking here and then here and then here and finally here!
Posted by fool at 01:14 AM | Comments (3)March 19, 2008
It Really Can't be THIS hard!
If Nordstrom always can ensure that its escalators are working, why the hell can't Metro do the same?
Posted by fool at 12:00 AM | Comments (5)March 14, 2008
Playing at a Theater Near You...
The Other Boleyn Girl
The Gist: First, this is based on a historical story, so I feel entirely comfortable revealing certain spoilers. If you like to be totally surprised by events in a film and would have been pissed off if a reviewer informed you that the Titanic sinks at the end of Titanic, then two things. First, you’re an idiot. Second, don’t read this review. Now then, onward we shall march.... King Henry VIII’s first wife isn’t producing any male children. Henry wants to pull an Eliot Spitzer, except since he’s the king he doesn’t need to pay for the sex. (You’d think as governor, Eliot wouldn’t have to pay for the sex either, but as noted earlier, when you look like Gollum and have the personality of extra abrasive sandpaper, guess it doesn’t matter whether you’re the governor or not.) A noble family hoping to whore out their daughter (I honestly believe that’s an incredibly accurate description of this family’s intentions) invites Henry to their estate, keeping their fingers crossed that he’ll want to bang the older daughter, Anne (Natalie Portman). Much to the family’s shock, Anne leads Henry on a hunting adventure that leaves him wounded. Apparently, it’s a big no-no to injure the king. I imagine this is especially true during rough sex, but the movie doesn’t explore that particular detail. Mortified that Anne has injured the King, the family assigns Mary (Scarlett Johansson), the other Boleyn Girl, to nurse Henry back to health. Despite the fact that Mary is married, Henry decides that he wants to play a game of “let me lick Mary’s kitty.” So, he arranges for the entire family to live in his neck of the woods. It doesn’t take long for him to play cover the banana with Mary. She ends up pregnant and giving birth to the king’s bastard child, which is a no-no as far as heirs go, so Henry’s male child “doesn’t count.” Long story short, Anne and Mary hate each other for awhile because Anne thinks Mary “stole” Henry, and then Mary thinks Anne “stole” Henry back. Anne concocts a magnificent plan to get Henry to divorce his first wife and marry her. Unfortunately for her, the harder to get she plays, the more and more pissed off Henry becomes, until eventually he has Anne’s head chopped off at the end of the movie.
What Would Have Made this Movie Better: I thought it was great start to finish. Perhaps a few more sex scenes with more nudity, but overall, a very well made, engaging movie.
Who Should See This: If you like historical stuff, give it a go! If you liked Elizabeth, definitely give it a go! If you don’t like historical stuff, you won’t like this.
The Verdict: A.
March 12, 2008
An Open Letter from Governor Eliot Spitzer to the Citizens of New York
Dear Every Individual Citizen of New York,
Do you remember when you were a little kid and you crept into the kitchen, hoping to steal a cookie out of the cookie jar? Did your mom ever walk in on you and see your hand clutching one of her homemade cookies? Remember how that felt? Remember how terrified you were? Remember the paralysis that gripped your body?
Well, instead of having your mom catch you holding a cookie, imagine that she walked in and saw you with your pants around your ankles as you held the cookie jar against your waist in a manner that made it obvious that your cock was inside the jar, all while you pumped your hips faster than a jackhammer at a construction site. Imagine how you would have felt had your mom walked in at that precise moment.
Now for a second try to imagine that your best friend Tommy was also in the kitchen at the time and also butt naked, only your mom didn’t see him at first because he was kneeling behind you with his tongue shoved right up your bunghole. If that wasn’t bad enough, imagine what your mom would think if after focusing on the two of you, she saw her all-time favorite stuffed Teddy Bear – the one her great grandmother gave to her and that she gave to you – on the edge of the table with a huge purple strap-on attached to it, which confused the living crap out of her until she saw your friend Tiffany poke her head up from beneath the counter and immediately start blowing the Teddy Bear, obviously unaware that your mom had entered the room.
How do you think you’d feel then? Well, that’s how I feel right now, only ten times worse.
I’m not going to deny that I stuck my willie in some high-class call girls’ coochie cooches on more than one occasion. I am not going to share details that you all want to know, like whether I really had one of them fuck a Great Dane named Charlie, or whether I made one shove Hershey kisses up my butt and then suck them out with a portable Orrick vacuum cleaner – you know, the kind that can pick up bowling balls (those are really great vacuums, by the way), or whether I made one jerk me off three times so I could squirt “The Governor Was Here” all over the master bedroom wall (I always liked that scene from Shawshank Redemption when Brooks carved his name in a board near the ceiling before hanging himself – I liked it because Brooks hanged himself and I’ve never much cared for criminals, and he was a criminal), or whether one girl and I invited the maid to come in and both mooned her when she opened the door and then chastised her for coming up and entering the room even though we had a note on the door that said, “Senora, por favor entre la alcoba rapido,” or, well, I’m not going to give you those kinds of details because they just aren't relevant.
What I will say is this. I’ve always wanted to watch a woman get eaten out by a big bird. I’m talking a bird as big as that yellow son-of-a-bitch on Sesame Street. Unfortunately, the one time I casually mentioned this to my wife, she said she didn’t want to get eaten out by an Ostrich. She tells me that, yet somehow you people are telling me I’m the bad guy here. Who the hell said anything about an Ostrich? I never said it HAD to be an Ostrich. Obviously that would have been ideal, but a flamingo could have worked well too. Hell, all I did was make her stand behind me when I told the entire world I was unfaithful to her, yet you people make it sound like I made her be in the room and watch me fuck the hookers. Get a grip.
I don't know why everyone is so upset about this. Have any of you looked at me? Seriously, have any of you taken a good look? I look a little bit like Gollum from those Lord of the Rings movies. I was hoping to prosecute that Peter Jackson S.O.B. who directed them. You know, he's the fat dude who looks like a homeless caveman. One time, I met him at a party and he looked at me, but his eyes didn’t twinkle. That pissed me off. Why the hell wouldn't someone's eyes twinkle when they met me? I AM Eliot just as Jordan IS Michael and Bryant IS Kobe and Madonna is Madonna. (I don't know her last name or even her real name. Hell, if I could, I'd prosecute her too because that's fucked up.) Unfortunately, I got elected governor before I could really dedicate my time to ruining Peter Jackson's life, which is a shame because that non-twinkle-in-the-eye bastard disrespected me.
Anyway, back to me. Do you realize that I’m as physically attractive as Sloth from Goonies or as Olden Polynice, formerly of the Los Angeles Clippers, or as Jimmy Kimmel’s left testicle after Kimmel's spent an hour on the treadmill (which by the looks of him doesn't seem to be something that actually ever happens). In any event, I ain’t pretty, folks. I ain't even somewhat pretty. Even my mom told me I was like the ugly duckling in that stupid story only I never turned into a Swan.
What's my point? Of course, I had to pay for some good-looking tang!
I’ve been trying to figure out what to do. At first, I thought, “I’ll just say I found Jesus.” But then I realized I’m a Jew and it’s one thing to tell your wife you’ve been slipping the one-eyed salami in some hookers the last six years; it’s quite another to tell her that and then spring the whole Jesus card on her the same week. Hell, if I did that, she’d probably expect me to turn into Sammy Davis, Jr., by Friday and that'd fuck things up even more because that dude's been dead for quite some time. So I can’t really find religion like most bastards do because I already have religion. I also can’t buy her flowers. I did that once after I had her father indicted and it didn’t work - she didn't even say thank you - so why would I want to do that now. After all, I want to save my money – I’m going to need to pay a lot of it to lawyers and obviously figure out how I can save up for another go with “Kristen.”
You know what I really hate. I never got to bang an Asian. Not once. I could have. But I was always drawn to the brunettes. I banged a few black chicks – mostly to piss off my mom – but never an Asian. That’s upsetting. I don’t know when I’ll get the chance anytime soon. I imagine the news media is going to be on me like bumps on a leper.
Let me know if you guys want to know more. Maybe I’ll write a book or something. I don’t know what firm is going to want me. I guess I could practice with that idiot Mark Geragos in California. He’d probably like the publicity of having me join his office.
Anyway, I’m tired and my advisers have told me I need to keep this relatively short and on point, so I’m just going to wrap it up, something by the way that I didn’t want to do with any of the Emperor’s Girls. God I'm smart. That was a really clever line. Eliot, you ARE the best.
Oh, as for what the hell's going to happen. I’m not going to be Governor anymore. Good luck with the quack who’s the Lieutenant Governor. He's going to blow.
E. Spitzer
P.S. – Ever heard that joke about the store that has liquor in the front and poker in the rear. Get it, LICK-HER in the front and POKE-HER in the rear. Ha, one of the hookers told me that. Makes me laugh every time.
Posted by fool at 01:05 AM | Comments (4)March 11, 2008
I have but one question...
Do you think Eliot Spitzer and his wife made love last night?
Posted by fool at 12:05 AM | Comments (4)March 10, 2008
He's so Irresponsible and Stupid that, if he had a toddler, He'd Probably Encourage the kid to Drink Red Bull (AND other random Musings on this "Just Another Manic" Monday)
Is anyone else troubled that the president is encouraging people to behave in a completely foolish (if not reckless) manner regarding the upcoming tax rebates? We’re a country of citizens who overindulge constantly, especially when it comes to buying things we cannot afford. It’d be nice if the president thought of the nation’s long-term interest instead of the short-term crap about keeping the economy booming along. Yes, it sucks that we’re most likely headed for a recession, but in the long-run, wouldn’t it be better if Americans started acting fiscally responsible instead of continuing to spend like a bunch of drunken sailors the night before being shipped off to battle? Hell, if we learned some fiscal discipline, maybe our leaders would actually take notice and follow our lead. Yeah, probably not, but it’s worth a shot.
I saw The Other Boleyn Sister over the weekend. I’ll post a review later this week. In the interim, I’ll tease my review by quoting one of the greatest cartoon characters ever, Yosemete Sam. “I like[d] it, I like[d] it!” Of course, I actually am being serious when I say, “I like[d] it.” When Yosemete Sam uttered those words (in Daffy Duck’s Fantastic Island), he was lying to Bugs Bunny in an attempt to keep “that stupid rabbit” from taking away Sam’s inheritance. That was one of the best cartoons ever made. You did see it, yes?
I absolutely LOVE when we turn the clocks forward one hour! How awesome was it to see daylight after seven last night! Coworker #1, hahahahahaha, you stupid [he knows the rest – it has to do with his religion]. Soon, you’ll be gone, Winter, and I say, "Good riddance!"
I was at a basketball game over the weekend and a man sitting next to me stole my pen when I wasn’t looking. It was a really cheap pen so I didn’t say anything. However, may a thousand starving squirrels mistake that man’s testicles for peanuts each remaining day of 2008.
