I'm not sure I have anything interesting to write, but sometimes the best stuff comes from pure crap. Like Good Will Hunting. Or Back That Azz Up.
My birthday came and went. I'm now 27 years old which feels, not surprisingly, just like 26. Only I've lost a little more hair, a little more weight, and I'm engaged. And speaking of engaged, am I supposed to feel different now that I've popped the question? Because I don't; I feel the exact same way as I did before I asked her. Maybe I feel a little more relieved that I don't have to listen to any more "ring talk", but that's about it.
Maybe that's a good thing, the fact that I don't feel differently. If I did, would it mean the way I felt before wasn't as strong, or maybe even phony? Why should I feel different? I don't love her more or less than I did pre-ring. Isn't that a good thing? Doesn't it validate the fact that I didn't need to do it to feel "more in love", but that I did it because I actually wanted to? It's not like she said anything to the contrary, but I tend to make up conversations in my head and for some reason I think she might have a problem with me telling her that I don't feel different. Oh well.
Today was my first day back at work since last Thursday. I didn't have a good reason to take the week off; I just felt like it. Well, that's not entirely true. I took last Friday off for Opening Day/my birthday, and Tuesday I had to fight a speeding ticket, which I won.
And that reminds me of something I was thinking about Tuesday: what percentage of police officers are complete douchenozzles? 85%? 90% What is it about the profession that attracts such dickweeds? I know the power over other people and the ability to make someone's life miserable is enticing to say the least, but why does this power have to attract the biggest dillholes among us in society?
I used to work with cops back when I was a Head Supervisor of Security at UMass, so I know not all cops suck fat ones. However, it seems like a vast majority are either hung like fruit flies (men), are bitter because they're not hung at all (women), or just give off that vibe because they were beat up a lot growing up. Officer Retardo, I get that playing D&D growing up didn't make you any friends or get you laid in high school. I know that getting cut from varsity football didn't exactly boost your self-esteem or make you a better person. But really, I'm just trying to get home from work and I wasn't even speeding; could you pull the plunger handle out of your ass for five seconds and listen to reason?
In my case, I was pulled over for speeding in Waltham. The cop had no way to "catch me" going 50+ when he was parked on a side street and I was taking a left less than 500 feet down the road. i didn't skid, smoke my tires, or swerve. He later tells the magistrate at my first appeal that he'd been following me for a quarter-mile before he pulled me over. BIG FAT LIE. So I appealed the appeal and won my second time around, thankfully; he told the second judge that he HADN'T been following me. Yeah, thanks for telling the truth the second time around, guy.
Maybe the cop really did think I was doing 50+, even if I don't see how. He didn't seem to want to listen to reason at the time he pulled me over. Maybe as he walked into his house later (presumably to heat up a Hungry Man dinner, pop in a schoolgirl/alien anime porn DVD, and beat it until he fell asleep in his La-Z-Boy) he figured out that I was right. He couldn't have estimated me at 50+ MPH. There goes his ticket. But wait! He could lie! He'll be under oath in the courtroom too, but he has a badge! Of course the judge will believe him! Cops never lie! I'm using too many exclamation points!!!
Anywho, I won, he lost, and then he stormed out of the courtroom and slammed the door. Oh, and as an interesting tidbit, out of the seven different cases on second appeal to be heard that day, he's the only cop who showed up. The other six couldn't be bothered to waste another minute on an appeal for a lousy ticket. I guess this particular officer had solved all the crimes in Waltham and therefore decided to come to court to pat himself on the back.
Hey, maybe he's not a bad guy. Maybe he was doing his job and became confused. All I know is that if I'd lied in court and had been caught, I'd have been found in contempt and would be seen in court for perjury. But he's got a badge, so all it took was a "my bad!" and he gets to pull over some other poor bastard who won't know what the hell is happening.
Alright, I've been halfway paying attention to the Sox game so I'm going to get back to it. Just me, some music on shuffle from my new iPod Classic (black of course...a gift from the future Mrs. Boncoddo to replace my beat-to-shit blue Mini), and a bottle of Wachusett Blueberry. It a phenomenal beer and I highly recommend it if you like beer and you're one of the five people in Massachusetts who have never tasted it. I was going to get the Sam Adams Cherry Wheat (always a good decision) but with the bottle recall in effect I'm going to hold off on Sam bottles for a while (ok, maybe not always).
And if you don't know what I'm talking about, Sam Adams had to recall a bunch of bottles because tiny pieces of glass were breaking off and floating around in the beer. It's probably not enough to hurt you; then again, I've never shit out a chandelier before and I don't plan on finding out how that feels.
Good night, everybody.