Sunday, Sunday, Sunday

Hey Bitches. No, I don't have any monster truck mayhem to announce. I just wanted to get the point across that today is Sunday. Once again, my blog proves invaluable. I will say that now that the NFL is into the later stages of the playoffs, I don't love Sundays as much as I do during the NFL season. Yeah, I know, without football, I could take advantage of the rare Sunday afternoon that I don't work and actually go outside to do something instead of sitting in my chair, eating too much and finding creative new ways to incorporate "fuck" into the things I yell at the TV when the Broncos are finding ways to throw away yet another season or the players on one of my fantasy teams (yes, I play fantasy football, I have already established I am a dork, get off me) isn't performing...but why? I like wasting 5 months of my year focusing on little else than the Broncos finding epic ways to fail and how many receptions DeSean Jackson might have in the next game. But hey, only 3 months, 5 days until the 2010 Draft.

Today's entry is not really about football, though. No, today's productive commentary on social issues is about people misusing handicapped parking spaces. The handicapped parking space is a pretty simple concept, really. Some people have been stricken with a true disability of some sort that makes walking difficult or impossible, or the need for extra space around a vehicle (ie: a van with a wheelchair ramp) a reality. So, as a courtesy (or because of ADA requirements, however you want to look at it) they get handicapped parking spaces to allow them the space they need or a shorter walk to the front doors of a business/church/whatever. The rest of us have to park in normal spots and walk the extra 20-30 feet...because we can.

Which brings me to the fat fucking bastards. Contrary to what some will say, sitting on your ass and eating yourself into a state of morbid obesity is not a disability. Cramming 6 donuts into your throat and washing them down with a gallon of chocolate milk for your mid-morning second breakfast is not the same as being born with Cerebral Palsy or breaking your neck in a freak accident. Having the inability to stop yourself from having that 9th slice of pizza at 11 pm while you're watching Skinemax and wishing you could find your dick does not mean you are handicapped. It means you are a fucking slob. You do not deserve a handicapped placard. In fact, your gargantuan ass should be parking in a lot at a totally different store 1/2 mile away and walking. You need the exercise. Oh, your knees hurt? Maybe you should have thought about the fact that human knees were not designed to handle the prolonged pressure of supporting the weight of a 6 month old Holstein when you were challenging your own personal daily hamburger intake record. Lose some of that weight and I bet your knees start feeling better. You know how to start losing some of that weight? Walk. From the back of the parking lot, for starters.

Oh, and asshole borrowing your grandma's car and using her handicapped placard to get a spot up front because you're too fucking lazy to walk an extra few feet...fuck you. Just because your grandma has a legitimate need for a placard does not entitle your perfectly capable ass to use it. Your lack of consideration and abject laziness makes me hope that you develop Crohn's Disease and find yourself unable to walk 6 feet without shitting yourself for the rest of your life. I can almost, almost find an ounce of care and forgive the gluttons, but you are inexcusable. I would love to crush your legs so you have a reason to use that spot.

I will admit that handicapped parking and accessibility were not things that I thought about extensively before it became a daily reality in my wife's life. However, I did know from a very young age that those spots with the signs and the blue paint are there for people who truly need them, not for fat people and lazy assholes. Although, the way things are going, I'm sure it won't be long until they start designating parking spots specifically for the obese. Everything else seems to be going the way of catering for the chronic over-eaters in our society, why not this? But, I can assure you, few things are more frustrating for a person with a legitimate need for a handicapped spot than not being able to find one available.

Sorry for the almost too serious rant today, had to get this one off my chest. I'll go back to making fun of commercials and eyebrow pictures and other inane crap tomorrow.

Later, Bitches.