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Treasure Chest for the Issues Category


Driving
Sep82009

Stop sign vs. Yield sign

This is the biggest pet peeve I have. Why is it so hard to understand that a Yield sign is not a Stop sign?

I’m betting this has probably happened to you at some in point in time:

You’re cruising down the road and headed onto a road that merges into another one. You look over your shoulder to see that no traffic is coming either way for miles. You begin to accelerate a bit so you can continue driving at the same speed on the new road. You look forward and are now surprised as shit because some asshat is stopped. This asshat is stopped to wait for the one car that is a mile a way to pass them. You step on your break knocking the shit on your front seat all over the place and put your hands on the horn to brace for impact while sending your best “what’s the fuck” to the stopped car. Once you stop, the car decides to move and gives you a glare in the rearview almost to say “what’s your problem.” You begin pressing the lock repeatedly on your emergency brake dreaming it really operated some sort of missile system under your hood – this asshat must pay.

Ever been there or in a similar experience? This happened to me today on lunch break. It also happened last week on my way to the doctor’s. It happened two week’s ago on the way to Sonic. It basically happens all the time.

From what I can tell you, it’s always the same repeat offender. In all my experiences it’s been a middle-aged woman that looks clueless as shit. After I go through the normal tirade of the prolonged rearview mirror stare down, I always think to myself “how come no one knows how to operate this shit?” It’s not exactly all to hard to differentiate between the two:

Stop Stop sign vs. Yield sign

The above pic is of a Stop sign. It has “Stop” on it and is red with white lettering. At a Stop sign, you stop. You completely stop your car from moving forward. End of story.

yield Stop sign vs. Yield sign

The above pic is of a Yield sign. It has “Yield” on it and is red with a white triangle in the center. At a Yield sign, you yield. Yielding means you give the right away to the other person if they have the “right to the road”. The “right to the road” means you would cause an accident if you proceeded and kept driving. It does not mean automatically mean stop. It means cruise and make a decision. If you are obviously bombarded with cars, you have to stop and that’s fine. If there is no one coming for miles, your ass better be moving. It’s not rocket science. To summarize, at a yield sign continue to proceed unless you need to stop for the sake of causing an accident.

OK. Well I hope I covered it all. Does this annoy anyone else besides me?

Stay tuned this week. Tomorrow I’ll be covering who should be allowed to talk on phones.


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Driving
Sep82009

The Captain’s Rules of the Road

In the past three days I’ve been cut off, flicked off, bumped into, and tailgated more than usual which is also more than I can handle. Yes, college is back into session and I’m sure all the douchebags, sorority slores, and other people who suck at life can be blamed for some reason or another, but I really think there’s just a complete lack of understanding of simple, fundamental driving rules. Thank god for all of you the Captain’s are here to explain them.

Outside of the regular tomfoolery we typically showcase on this web site, TCM is committed to sharing The Captain’s Rules of the Road for this short Labor Day Week.

If you want our spin on some driving related issue, you know where to comment.


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Issues, Man Moments
Aug252009

Why Women Can’t Complain That It’s Too Hot In The Office

Listen ladies, it’s the summer. We all know it’s hot as hell out. But, unless the heat is turned on in your office or you work outside you have no reason to complain. You have so much more leeway in how you can dress than men have.

You get to wear skirts, dresses, capri pants, sandals (or at the very least things that are conducive for air flow to your feet) and assorted other clothing that allows your arms to be bare from the shoulder down. I’m not saying you wear these types of clothing all the time, but at least you have the option to do so.

Men for the most part have to wear dress socks and shoes, khaki pants, an undershirt and a button down long sleeve shirt. That’s just if they are lucky! Some men have to wear ties and  suit jacket/blazer over top of that.

It’s petty, sure. But, I’m a very petty man. Everyone suck it up, it’s the fucking summer. It’s going to be cold as shit in a few months and than your going to wish it was hot again. (That is unless you live south of the mason dixon or west of the Mississippi or a different Country entirely for that matter).


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Issues
Aug242009

I Want To Ride My Bicycle

Well, don’t ride it in the middle of the street you fucking bastards! I know I will get flack for this, but I really don’t give a shit. I can’t stand driving my car in traffic and having Lance Armstrong in front of me going 7 miles an hour. But, I can’t pass him because of real traffic.

BIKE I Want To Ride My Bicycle

Look, I respect that you are able to ride your bike all the way to work. That takes an incredible amount of physical fitness, saves you gas money, helps the environment and makes you sweat uncontrollably. I know that my ass could never do that shit. But come on, just get the fuck out of the road. Use a sidewalk or at the very least ride on the edge of the road away from cars. Your bike is not  motor vehicle.  We are scared to death of hitting you with our cars, there’s like a 2% chance that you won’t die.

Just do the world a favor and keep your bikes out of the middle of the road.


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Issues, Random
Aug42009

The Office Kitchen/Break Room

breakroomone The Office Kitchen/Break Room

Now, I know not everyone is lucky enough to have a break room or kitchen at their job. If you do, you know how absurd they can be. There is a strange phenomenon that occurs between these walls.

In the refrigerator their will be food in there for over a year, I don’t mean food that rots (although, those can end up being in there for over 2 weeks). I’m talking about salad dressing and other shit. Someone brings something in for lunch and decides to order out that day and forgets about it. The same person will see it daily, but not realize it is their own. Meanwhile, you have to navigate your shit around someone else’s 9 month old hot pocket. Everyone is scared to death to throw it out too, so they don’t step on anyone’s toes.

No lie, their was a half dranken can of coke on the table in my office’s break room for a week. NO ONE would throw it out, because they weren’t sure the person was done with it. God forbid if it was your bosses! The person who drank half of it didn’t realize they were staring at it 15 times a day.

What the fuck?


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Facial Hair, Issues
Jul302009

Barber’s Secret Sideburn Code

I’m a man. I have sideburns. Since I was 14, I never went a day without them. If I did I would undoubtedly feel like a young child and lose any respect people might have once held for me.

Every time I have ever gotten a haircut, the exact same thing happens to me. They ask if they can trim my sideburns which I almost always refuse. Hell, I know I can do it better at home. Then they will ask to at least even them out and I say “ok”. What could be the harm in that? They are trained professionals. Their eyes are better than my own in that kind of situation. Yet every single time, they cut my sideburns at some dumb inverted angle. Just like I’m some kind of Jersey beach ghetto thug all star douche bag. I have to go home and even that shit out so I can look like a normal human again.

I always thought it was because I went to Fantastic Sam’s. (For those of you who don’t know, it’s a cheap generic hair cut chain). I switched to an old school barber about a year ago. He does the same fucking thing. What gives? Is there some secret code that all barbers follow? All I can think of is that everyone who cuts hair was somehow mesmerized by Captain Kirk’s Star Fleet mandated futuristic sideburns and now it is implanted deep in their subconscious somehwere.

SideburnsKirk 1 Barbers Secret Sideburn Code

unbelievableextra Barbers Secret Sideburn Code

Does anyone else have this issue?


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Baseball, Issues
Jul272009

Gambling vs. Steroids

OK, this has got to stop. Do you know who this guy is?

shoelessjoe Gambling vs. Steroids

What about this guy?

untitled3 Gambling vs. Steroids

If you answered Shoeless Joe Jackson and Pete Rose, respectively, you my friend are right. Their claims to fame, along with possibly one or two others, is that they had stellar careers, but were banned from baseball for betting on games. Here’s a bold statement: both of these men should be in the Hall of Fame.

Read More »


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Issues
Jul232009

Rant Time, American Style

I figure the people I am about to semi-offend can’t read this so I will gladly continue.

mexican map Rant Time, American Style

So I just returned from a trip to the local Subway sandwich store and all they have behind the counter is the subs and Mexicans. I walk up to the counter and ask for 2 sandwiches. The bitch pulls out 3. I say no, I only want 2. This confuses her more and she leaves me with 1. So, the impolite son of a bitch I am says, “No…Dos sandwiches…Dos” holding 2 fingers up. Ok now she got it right.

Next up is what type of sandwiches I am getting. Lucky for her they were the same so she got it right on the first pitch.

Now here is what completely boggles my mind. Who knew someone couldn’t tell lettuce apart from cheese…well, apparently this senorita. She even asks, “what type cheese you want?” I say, “Swiss on the large sandwich” which she got right, then “Shredded cheddar on the small”. So what does this whore do? She reaches for the shredded lettuce. What the shit balls? I will give her the benefit of the doubt that cheddar can sound like lettuce when you know all of 3 1/2 words of english but come on, you yourself asked me what cheese I wanted. Frustration level is building on this side of the glass. So, she puts them in the toaster and I am done with this one hopefully thinking, “Ok, lets move on to someone more competent.” Wrong.

Next Mexican in the sandwich conveyor belt: The post-toast Mexican. This girl must have just crossed the border, cause I saw the barb-wire scratches on her arm. No just kidding, I’m sure she was legal. Anyways, she asks what else I would like on the sandwiches. So, I ask for cucumbers and before I could even continue to what I would like next she starts to fucking reach for the goddamn mayonnaise. Bitch! I did not ask for mayonnaise! So the first Mexican I dealt with comes over to assist this new-born American and she asks me what I wanted, so I said “I wanted cucumbers.” You know what she fucking did? She reached for the goddamn shredded lettuce again! What is up with this bitch and shredded lettuce!? Did your mommy deprive you of shredded lettuce when you were little so you are somewhat intimately drawn to it? I would hope not since shredded lettuce is a staple of tacos…and we all know what little Mexican girls favorite things are!

So eventually everything gets in order, I pay and politely walk out of the store only to realize that they gave me one of the sandwiches. I walk back in and say “I only had one sandwich in the bag, where is my second one?” They look at me like I have a Chupacabra growing out the side of my head. I repeat myself until the manager who is American, comes over and asks what is the problem. I tell him I only had one sandwich in the bag, but paid for 2. So apparently they sent my sandwich off with the woman behind me along with her own. I have to go through that whole goddamn sandwich making experience again? No way, I’d rather eat my dog’s shit covered in sprinkles then deal with those fucking bimbos again. Luckily the manager saw that I was getting heated and re-made me my sandwich himself and gives me my money back for it. O yea, Captain Yar 1, Subway 0.

Either those girls where extremely daft or they saw I was being a complete dickhead out of frustration and decided, “Hey, lets fuck with this muchacho.” If so, kudos Mexico…kudos.

Either way, I’m going to Quiznos next time.


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