Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘Stupidity’

Dear Organizers of the Georgia State Banana Pudding Festival:

As soon as I found out about this festival and realized it coincided with the day my son Dominic and I planned to drive from Atlanta to Savannah, I knew it was on the agenda.

I’ve been to many festivals and fairs. I have expectations. I can manage those expectations depending on the scope of the venture. Claxton Rattlesnake Roundup? It’s an annual, small-town, lookie-loo event. No expectations. McMinnville UFO Festival? Bigger event with a parade and a weekend of planned speakers. Higher expectations.

The banana pudding festival appears to be an annual state event with enough social media presence to get on the radar of someone in Oregon.

I had expectations.

I did not expect to wait 20 minutes on a two-lane road to be directed into a field to park — one of three, all off this same two-lane road.

I did not expect to wait another 30 minutes in line to pay a $10 entry fee. (Who charges an entry fee at a festival like this?!)

I did not expect to wait another hour in line to pay $10 to sample banana pudding along the “Puddin’ Path.”

This is the line for the Puddin’ Path.
Dominic is so happy to finally be able to eat some pudding.

What — and I mean this sincerely — the fuck?!

One hour and $10 to sample eight versions of banana pudding, two of which were inedible? [One was “sourdough” (What? No. Stop.), and one was pecan praline (so sweet that I immediately contracted diabetes).]

And that’s it. Those eight samples equaled the only banana pudding available at the Georgia State Banana Pudding Festival.

You are deeply unserious festival planners. Clearly.

So what did our entry fee get us?

A vendors fair with all manner of offerings, including “sassy sewing.”
A variety of wood creations and whatnot for sale.
A few people with festival spirit.
Hate crimes in merch form.
An obstacle course driven by a blindfolded tractor driver.
The ability to take this photo.

Not pictured: the 30-minute line for two porta-potties. Yes: TWO.

Also not pictured: The person running for Secretary of State who talked to us about his immigration stance, assuming we had the same political beliefs. Sir, I’m not your target audience, for a variety of reasons.

You know what WAS worth it: Spending this time with Dominic grousing about how lame your festival was. We are two of a kind and ended up having a great time.

So thanks. I guess.
Beth

Read Full Post »

Welcome, everyone, to the award ceremony for the first National Championships for the Mental Gymnastics!

(pause for applause)

The competition is complete, and we have our winners. Here are the following champions:

POMMEL HORSE: All the people killed, beaten, sprayed, pushed, detained, abused, etc., by the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement “officers” who have taken over Minneapolis, Minnesota. ICE has pommeled them repeatedly.* Congrats to these folks, mostly U.S. citizens! (So much winning! Are we great yet?)

STILL RINGS: Texas and Florida (tie). It takes immense strength and control to somehow avoid an ICE invasion when there are nearly 2 million and 1.2 million (respectively) undocumented residents, compared to Minnesota’s 130,000. How did they manage to come out on top? Their coach, Pam Bondi.

VAULT: ICE (and the DHS overlord Kristi Noem). They manage to vault right over the First, Second and Fourth amendments to the U.S. Constitution every day!

PARALLEL BARS: Kamala Harris. In a parallel universe — one without Elon Musk — she won the election and none of this is happening. Fun fact: Before the election, the right, with help from FOX News, said the Democrats would strip away the Second Amendment, jail us for what we say, drag us into more foreign wars, and cover up a sex trafficking ring, among other atrocities. Huh. Lookee here.

HORIZONTAL (HIGH) BAR: Joe Biden. He was crucified and had to drop out of the 2024 presidential race because he had a bad performance at a debate. Meanwhile, Trump sends the following letter to the Norwegian prime minister, and it’s just another Monday. Ho hum. Seems fine. Totally sane.

FLOOR EXERCISES: These were canceled as senators and representatives controlling Congress cannot be bothered to do the jobs outlined in the Constitution.

UNEVEN BARS: MAGA.

(Left) Kyle Rittenhouse meets with Donald Trump at Mar-a-Lago after acquittal. (Right) Alex Pretti documents ICE activity in Minneapolis Jan. 24 moments before he was killed, with the Trump administration claiming he was brandishing a gun.

BALANCE BEAM: No winners. Only losers. There is no balance, only hyperbole. For example, the rhetoric around immigration that led to the ICE buildup.

JD Vance claims there are 30 million undocumented immigrants in America. The number is closer to half. And they have been painted as rapists and murderers. According to extrapolated numbers out of Texas (the only place that really tracks), the number is 1.9 homicides per 100,000. There are more than 22,000 ICE agents. ICE killed 32 people in 2025. That’s about 1 per 688. I’d rather live next door to an illegal immigrant than an ICE agent.

Here are some facts:

Wake up, everyone! We are at the end of this glorious celebration of the Mental Gymnastics!

We will have a reception eventually in the new “luxurious” $400 million presidential ballroom — which is completely a necessity as we have managed to solve the all the American problems of affordable healthcare and housing, wage stagnation, inflation (2.7 percent), national debt ($38 trillion), national budget deficit ($1.78 trillion), etc.

CONGRATULATIONS!

*Side note: I can’t believe I have to say this but law enforcement officials are not allowed to execute “guilty” people either. We have a whole judicial system to determine guilt and punishment. Good and Pretti should be alive. For those of you saying, “FAFO,” I have a question and a comment. The question: Why are you defending these thugs? (Is it because if you admit they are wrong, you also are wrong for voting for this? Because you knew exactly what was going to happen. Or is it because you too were a high-school bully, and you love the violence?) The comment: Fuck all the way off with your inhumane self.

Read Full Post »

Hey all you cool cats and kittens!

I like to try to make people laugh. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I am Chandler. I like to pretend everything is OK.

Everything is not OK.

  • There’s so much uncertainty.
  • I don’t like staying at home.
  • I burned the gyoza I took so much time to make because I was preoccupied by being sad.
  • I’m rarely sad, so that was a surprise.
  • There’s a woman at work who hates me, and I don’t know why.
  • We don’t have any toilet paper. (I’m kidding. Old habits die hard.)

I miss working out. There: I said it. I know you’re shocked.

I miss all of you.

I miss normal life.

I took going out to see live music for granted. Going to restaurants. To festivals. To the beach. Seeing friends and family whenever I wanted.

I have so much to be thankful for:

  • I have a job.
  • I have a job I like.
  • I like my boss.
  • Eddie is a funny person.
  • He has a job.
  • The kids are great. Really!
  • None of us has the ‘Rona.
  • I have fantastic friends and family with whom I can chat via Zoom, Skype, Hangouts, What’s App and Houseparty. I have options!
  • And a bidet. 😉

But the reality is that none of us knows how long this will last. And the leadership in this country is woefully inept.

For example, Gov. Kemp opened the Georgia beaches, superseding more restrictive local orders. He also said he didn’t know sometimes people were asymptomatic. 🙄

Sigh.

It’s hard. It’s harder for some than for me, but let me have my moment.

I’ll be fine tomorrow.

Take care of yourselves. I love you all.
Beth

 

Read Full Post »

Dear Friends Worried About My Sanity and My Son’s Life:

Thank you for your concern. I’m speaking to him again. Why? He said some magic words:

Can I have a hug?

And that was it.

(Don’t tell anyone that I have a secret soft side.)

In return for putting up with his bad behavior, though, I secured the rights to publish a ridiculous picture of him.

Before I show it to you, let me set the scene:

Eddie is picking up Gideon from track practice. It’s only Dominic and me at home. I guess he doesn’t realize I’m home because he calls me on the phone. (And you all know how I feel about talking on the phone.)

(The call is coming from INSIDE the house!)

Mama! Can you come help me? I’m stuck!

Just then, Eddie calls.

Can you help your son? He is stuck in the bed.

Wait … what?

So I go in his room and I see this:

No child was harmed in the taking of this photo.

It’s an antique bed. This child slid off the end of it and trapped himself. I took the picture then helped him escape.

(For those of you wondering why I stopped to take a photo, it’s like you don’t even know me! In our family, if someone does something stupid, we laugh and/or document it first, then ask questions.)

Also notice his acid-washed jeans. Those are in style again, people (as are fanny packs).

Sigh.

Anyway, he’s fine. And we’re fine — until the next time the hormones take control.

I’ll be sure to update you.

Yours truly,
Beth

 

Read Full Post »