Episodes

This Week in Rage – 12/13/13

This Week in Rage, a blog about the top three things that pissed me off this week:

 

Strip Club Billboard Hypothetical: Before we get started with the rage, I want you all to think about a hypothetical question I’m very proud I formulated.  Driving home from one of my many gigs I passed the big billboard off the freeway advertising the gentleman’s club The Spearmint Rhino.  There was a good-looking woman up there on a 35 foot billboard.  I thought, that chick doesn’t work there. She’s too hot.  That’s a professional model they use to lure you into the Spearmint Rhino.  She’s not an employee.  Then I thought, I have a 7-year-old daughter.  What would I want for her in 11 years on her eighteenth birthday?  Would I prefer her to be on the billboard for the Spearmint Rhino or actually working there?  Consider this, several hundred thousand eyeballs see that billboard every day.  If you go with the billboard everyone she went to high school with would think she was working there, “Oh poor girl.  I remember when she was on the debate team, now she has to work at the Spearmint Rhino.”  Now in the other direction you’ve just got the handful of pervs who aren’t really into judgment anyway, otherwise they’d have to judge their own junk.  Those guys wouldn’t know who she was or even know her real name since when she hits stage four it’s as “Jade.”  But those are also the “gentlemen” at the gentlemen’s club she has to grind on for $20 a song before blowing the manager to get the good Friday night shift.  Tough, right?  It’s this type of head-scratchers that net me the big bucks.

 

Backpacks: I was on the road this past weekend in Sacramento and Fresno and was using my backpack a lot.  Back in the day a backpack was just, as the name implies, a pack that you put on your back.  Now they’re all Army Special Unit style.  They’ve got compartments within compartments within compartments like Russian nesting dolls.  I have 172 compartments in my backpack.  So now every time go to the airport and say I’m going to put my car keys in this one zippered pouch that’s inside this other zippered pouch which is inside this Kevlar pouch and think “well, they’ll be good there” but then I get to my car and start panicking.  I can’t find them.  How many times have you gone into your backpack and couldn’t find what you put in there?

 

So then you do that super scientific move where you hold it upside down and start shaking it.  What if your phone is in there?  You’re standing over asphalt, dummy.

 

How many pockets do we really need?  We’re not Navy Seals or on safari.  You just need one big sack that everything goes in.  That’s general pop.  And then there’s the zipper pouch for the wallet and sunglasses.  That’s solitary.  The fact that there are twenty-seven little hiding places is fucking me up.  I think it’s grandiosity.  “I’m a busy important man, I need a lot of pockets for all of my important things.”  No you don’t.  You need a pillowcase.  Your life would be much better if you just had one pillowcase that you carried all your shit around in.

 

The same with pants and shirts.  You don’t need pockets on your sleeve.  You just need one pocket on your chest for your sunglasses.  In the last 100 years all we’ve done is put down the gun and picked up the cell phone .  Why do we need the 87 other pockets?  When it comes to backpacks less is more.

 

Lighted Freeway Signs Victory!:  I’ve raged on the podcast, this blog, and every interview I’ve ever done about how we need a billboard campaign to tell people to move to the side of the freeway when they have a fender bender.  I even took my message straight to The Man.  I spoke to Lt. Governor Gavin Newsom about it and I spoke to L.A. mayor Eric Garcetti about it at a cop luncheon and finally it’s happened. The lighted freeway billboards that used to read click it-or-ticket have been replaced by “In Minor Accident Move To The Shoulder.”

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Now this is not as catchy as “If It Steers It Clears” like they’ve had in other states for years before we finally woke the fuck up in California, but I’ll take the win.  Next I’m off to NFL headquarters to get the fucking goal posts raised.  Stay tuned.  I’m on a roll.

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