Utterlogic's Blog

What I’ve Learned From Being Laid Off

utterlogic — Tue, 16 Feb 2010 18:33:44 +0000

1. I only have three pairs of casual blue jeans…and they each are good for at least three wearings before washing again.

2. People who sit a Chic-Fil-A with laptops are probably unemployed…even if they’re dressed really nice.

3. No one at Chic-Fil-A, patrons or employees, will offer you a job if you dress up really nice and sit in their restaurant with a laptop.

4. Coffee is expensive. Sickeningly expensive.

5. More theatres should have early afternoon showtimes.

6. Chinese food really does just leave you feeling hungry an hour later…and the owners don’t appreciate you staying in their restaurant long enough to figure that out – especially if it’s a buffet.

7. Careerbuilder.com and Monster.com are highly over-rated, but have great marketing teams, evidently.

8. You will never meet someone who got a job by applying through the two aforementioned companies.

9. Calling yourself an “outplacement service” is really just another way of saying “we have two ladies that will revise your resume”.

10. I am a liar. Now that I, in fact, have more time to exercise, I don’t do it any more or longer than I used to. Go me.

11. People over the age of 27 are not supposed to stay up past ten in the evening, even if you don’t have to do anything the next morning. Your body will let you know when you’ve reached this milestone in your life, and you won’t be happy about it.

12. Video games are suddenly cool again.

This certainly doesn’t represent the extent of what I’ve learrned from my current situation, but most definitely represents the most critical things. This list is subject to multiple revisions and additions at any time.

Tasing Children Is Not Funny…Sometimes.

utterlogic — Sat, 21 Nov 2009 01:18:15 +0000

By now, many of you have heard at least some of the national — scratch that, global — coverage on the tasing of a young girl, ten years of age, that occurred in good ‘ol Ozark, Arkansas. Let me state, for the record, that I do not live in Ozark, AR. I, in fact, live approximately two hours away from Ozark, AR, and therefore have no vested interest in this town or its police force. Now, I will state for those of you that are “in the know”, I do have a cousin that works for the Franklin County Sheriff’s Department. Ozark, AR, is located within the confines of Franklin County, but the event being disclosed and discussed heretofore involved only the Ozark local city police department, and has no bearing or reflection on the county office (nor do my observations contained herewith).
All that aside, let me begin. For those of you determined to crush the media machine and all the evil propagandizing and fear-mongering that it solely exists to support and propel at the masses by not watching or reading material from any news network, I’ll recap here: a cop tased a 10-year-old girl. Also, the Smoking Gun has posted a copy of the police report here. The story goes that the officer was called to the young lady’s residence by her mother. Why? Because the little hellion apparently did not want to go to bed. In the official report, the officer states that he observed “screaming, kicking, and resisting every time her mother tried to touch her”. The mother tried to put the girl in the shower multiple times while the officer was present, in an attempt to get her ready for bed. Let me temporarily terminate our tale at this juncture.
….Um, WTF? Let’s look at this again. A woman — a woman with a 10-year-old child — called the police because her daughter was kicking and screaming, wouldn’t get in the shower, and did not want to go to bed? Let me say this again. She had an officer dispatched to her residence because her young daughter was acting like….a young girl. Egads. Holy poo. Either I completely failed to recognize the actual usefulness of the local authorities, or this woman just took time out of a cop’s tax-paid salary to help her put her daughter to sleep. Mom, there are many more efficient, not to mention much more cost-effective, ways in which to accomplish this. Here are a few that begin with the letter “B”:

1) Benadryl — winter is rolling around, I’m sure the girl has the sniffles, they make the stuff taste like frikkin’ cotton candy, and she’ll be down for the count in 10.

Bubble Gum?! Yumma dum dum! I'll have mine with some Sailor Jerry!

2) Belts — regardless of your policy on corporal punishment for your child, you granted an officer permission to tase her. Therefore, it’s safe for me to assume that you don’t mind whippin’ out the leather every once in a while and makin’ that ass red (in a very Christian manner, of course).

This is a buckle that can be attached to said belt. I chose this one because it speaks to me personally, and this design remains upon my arse to this day as a constant reminder of what happened when I chose to disobey my parents.

3) Beat the kid — ok, so don’t beat her, just read number two again.

Yeah, this one, too.

Now, having said that, I’ll move on. So she’s alerted the authorities to the domestic terrorism that is apparently taking place in her home. The officer arrives promptly at the residence, probably thinking something to the effect of, “I know this bitch did not call the five-oh because her kid ain’t co-operatin”. At least, that’s what I would be thinking. He enters the home upon the mother’s admission and observes the child flip-floppin’ on the floor and, in general, being a wild hellspawn creature that is more than likely the result of poor child-rearing on the part of her parents. Remember, I’m referencing the genius that decided to call the POLICE BECAUSE HER DAUGHTER WAS THROWING A FIT. F&$%, that’s not going to leave me for a while. The officer then makes “several attempts” to speak with the young girl, who is now balled up on the floor, screaming and crying. It’s at this point that the mother attempts to pick the girl up and put her in the shower, and the girl resists, apparently by kicking and screaming. Stop for a second. I’m just trying to think this out in my head…I’m 10 years old, I’m in trouble for causing a ruckus at my house, and my effing mother has just called the cops on me, who have just shown up at my door. I can only imagine what is going through the head of an actual 10-year-old at this point, but my “fight or flight” reflex would have kicked in the moment I realized my ridonkulous mother actually just called the cops. “Balled up on the floor” my ass — I would have “vacated the residence” and caught the “next train to Georgia”, then “lived in squalor” whilst trying to “make a decent buck”, and eventually landed myself “in jail” and “got raped”.

My mom called the cops on me when I was 10! What's your excuse?!

Right after this short moment, the mother turns to the officer in what must have been her most glorious moment of clarity ever since coming down off of that meth-binge that more than likely began sometime in the early 90′s when meth wasn’t even cool, and informed the young gentlemen that he can “tase her if he needed to”. Well humpty-doody-dori. Something here tells me that this mother had it in her scrambled eggs and sausage Denny’s mess mind that this was what needed to happen before the officer even showed up. Who the hell just gives an officer permission to tase their 10 year old daughter after he’s been there two minutes “observing” her screaming and throwing a fit? Come on, at least buy a guy a dinner first. Maybe even a movie!

Jodi Sweetin: I just couldn't imagine calling the cops on my daughter when she turned 10 and then giving them permission to tase her. So I quit meth immediately when I found out I was pregnant!

The report goes on to show that the officer and the mother, in a joined effort apparently, tried to carry the girl to the shower. The girl continued to twist and shout (mad props to you, Chubby Checkers), and the officer realized that “there was not going to be a peaceful resolution to the issue”. Detractors to the action that ultimately occurred will cry, “See?! He just went right for his taser! He didn’t even try!” I say, “Nay, nay”. The officer took the girl back into the living room, sat her down, and attempted to reason with her. Officer Man, first mistake. This 10-year-old Bathsheba is a woman in the making, and knows all your tricks already. I know, I know, they look innocent, they act innocent, and those big donkey tears streaming down her face probably convinced you immediately that she could be reasoned with. I say, “Nay, nay”. The taser actually should have been the first thing to come out, but it wasn’t. The officer sat the young lady down and told her, flat-out, “You’re going to jail if you keep acting like this.” The girl’s response? To keep acting like that. Taser now? You’d expect a yes, but no. The officer kept a cool head.

I'm getting pissed just looking at this tantrum. Anybody seen my taser?

He then attempted to place her under arrest. There was a battle that ensued, the likes of which no 10-year-old has ever had with a man of the law. Great shockwaves filled the land. Folks in the next county over just figured it was the Hazzard boys again, blowing up some old used-up stills with their Uncle Jesse. The officer attempted many times over the course of the battle to apprehend and cuff the little girl, but hell, she was wiry. Then, all at once, the drama escalated to its highest and most excruciating point yet — the girl bopped him right in the danglies with her foot. It’s important to note that the police report mentions that the girl “struck me with her legs and feet in the groin. This implies that it was not just one foot, and not just one time that it happened.

The look on Sister's face is appalling, but the pain reflected in Brother's is worse. And this was just ONE kick.

Ladies, let me ask you this: do you have something that you love? Something that you would fight to the death for? Something that you won’t let anyone touch unless they are so very, very careful? Something that you care for, and longingly look after like a loved child? Something that would make your right side go numb and cause you to bend over from sheer pain, forcing you to urinate blood and cry out for mercy to the Lord above every time you used the restroom for the next fortnight, if someone were to kick it “violently”? I will stop there. Yeah, you know.
So the officer administers a “very, very brief drive stun” to the middle of the girl’s back. The alleged offense has occurred. Now, realize something here — this is not the tasing that you’ve seen on Jackass, this is not the little prong-thingies that shoot out and render a man a…well, a 10-year-old girl. This was a “drive stun”. That means he used the device itself, didn’t deploy the taser prongs, and did it only very briefly. We could argue the mechanics of what actually happened at that point, but I’m not a stun gun technician, and neither are you. Asshole.

Did they just tase this guy? OR! Did someone just kick him in the balls? Yeah, can't tell at all, can you?

I’ve already written this off as a classic case of “eye for an eye” (man, I am using quotations way too much here). But people around the nation, including the young girl’s father, are decrying this as an unnecessary act of police brutality on a minor, and a young girl, no less. The young girl’s pretty mug on the screen makes one initially want to cry and rally around her cause, and her father crying on national television doesn’t help much. But when one digs a little deeper, you have to question if this is indeed the proper reaction.
It is also important to note that the girl is fine. After the shock, she immediately stopped her potentially fatal (because why else would you call a cop?) behavior, and the cop carried her to the car and took her to a youth shelter. The report doesn’t detail this, but I’m sure the mother, after the cop and the daughter left, poured herself a nice glass of wine from the box in the ice chest, drew a Suave bubble bath, and sipped herself silly. She was found the next morning with the box of wine actually in the bath tub, the water a strange blue hue, and the water from the toilet completely drained. Which was weird.
Was the cop wrong? I believe you know my thoughts on the issue. Coming from someone who has family serving as law enforcement officers, I’m aware of many different things that could have happened to this young lady that are infinitely worse than a brief drive stun to the back. If I kicked an officer straight to the junk, what do you think he’d do to me? Why should it be any different for a 10-year-old? She knows what she did, she knew what she was doing when she did it. She’s 10. Not 3, like my oldest son, who, yes, I might get a little pissed if a cop tased him. But, you know, a cop can physically overpower him without hurting him — but it gets little more difficult to do with each passing year. By the time he’s 10, heck, my wife and I may have matching stun guns. His and Hers. It’ll be real cute, promise.

I'll get mine in blue.

Ever Wonder…?

utterlogic — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 02:59:32 +0000

Being a man of exceptional size and girth, I often wonder if others in my same predicament (or worse off) ponder as to how they “got this way”. Now, at the forefront of this blog, I do have to acknowledge, as well as respect, that there are conditions, medical conditions, that can cause a person to be large and otherwise unhealthy. I am not, in any way, writing about those individuals. I myself am not one of those individuals. I have come to a point in my developmental and physical growth where I can freely admit that I have a very controllable, yet debilitating, problem that causes me to be large and not-so-in-charge (relative to my life span). There are a select few, however, that have no control over this particular aspect of their lives, and to them I am not speaking, I assure you.

Back to the original question – I often watch video clips, films, awkward social situations, etc., where people of “generous size” are the focal point of jokes and comedy. Often times, these people of gargantuan proportions are the only ones starring in these forms of media, which turn out to be comedy-designated simply because of their size. Case in point:

Now, I am not fully aware of this particular woman’s situation, and what she has gone through, but you have to admit….that was pretty funny. But, as I was watching, sipping on my Sailor Jerry concoction and giggling like an immature school-boy at someone who farted loudly and suddenly in the middle of 5th period Fine Arts class, I began to wonder if this woman knew exactly why she was….well, the way she is. Obviously, she can’t deny that she is a “woman of size”. She is obviously not purchasing clothing at American Apparel, Abercrombie & Fitch, Wet Seal, or any other trendy, hip shop. This is a tried and true Lane Bryant, hold-your-head-high, big ‘ol girl, and she undoubtedly knows it. I know it, you know it, and your significant other that heard you laughing, asked what you were laughing about, and received your explanation, knows it. But, the question lingers…does she readily acknowledge and know why she is that way?

“God, tell me why you made me this way, or the white mage gets it.”

I, for one, can readily admit that I have an eating problem. I’ve had it since I was a young lad, and it remains, like an irritating friend who is actually a really good friend but they stayed at your house one too many nights in a row. I attribute no mystery, eating disorder, or social influence as the reason that I am the way I am today. I know. And I can control it. In fact, I’ve been working on it for the past few months. By reigning in the continual desire to munch on shit that I don’t even care about, I’ve been able to drop about 60 pounds in the past year and a half. Due to my lifetime of bad and unhindered eating habits, though, this doesn’t seem like much in the longrun. I still have a very, very long way to go…but I digress. The reason for this train of thought, this BLOG, if you will, is that I know many people, perhaps like our little video-girl here, that cannot understand why they are so large. At the same time, I witness them engorging themselves 3 to 4 times per day like they were a Somalian child that just discovered Suzanne Summers’ secret stash. Then they turn to me with chunks of dough and beef stuck between their teeth and lament about how they “just can’t seem to lose weight”, and how they have a clinical eating disorder that won’t allow them to be the person they should be, or how the world has forced them to be this way.

Observation: Manyof the individuals that have relayed the above to me have, at some point in their lives, sought out professional help for their “problem”. They have seen therapists, dieticians, medical doctors, etc. regarding their weight issue. As a man of size myself, I can sincerely say that these professional individuals should be immediately and utterly disregarded, and the majority of my friends should stop eating so f&$%#^@ much. Now, again, that is personal experience, and not meant to degrade or downplay the seriousness of anyone who may suffer from a genuine medical condition that results in obesity. Let me explain: the history, or the experience, if you will, is that most of these professionals choose to tell people that it is not their own fault that they are…the way they are. Immediately my mind snaps and says…”Huh”? But, let me continue. They will tell folks that their current conditions are the result of “society”, or an “illness”, or a “disease”, that simply does not exist. Mind you, I’m saying this as someone with personal experience in the matter. And, I have to say, I’m not attempting to discredit all professional personnel pertaining to this matter. I’m just saying that the majority of them are full of it.

”It’s totally not your fault that you’re a stark-raving psycho lunatic FATTY.”

I realize that I’m pushing it in terms of attention span and interest, so I’m going to conclude at this point and say the following: If you’re fat, I hope you don’t wonder why.