I’ve decided I want to fight crime for a living. Not like my friends and my husband who have to use a badge and a gun and a giant ego to fight it though.
I want to fight crime in a very caped crusader kind of way. I’m of the opinion that to truly be respected as someone who takes crime fighting seriously, a really cool mask and themed costume is quite necessary. That’s exactly what’s wrong with law enforcement today by the way. Too much badge and too little crazy cool mask.
I know I for one would be far more likely to behave myself if I were pulled over by a guy wearing bat ears and a black mask. Everyone knows attempting to flee from someone involved in a dynamic duo situation is futile.
I don’t want to fight crime by anybody else’s definition of what a crime is either. I want to pick and choose what needs fighting based solely on my whim and desire.
And I have lots of whims and desires.
For instance, this weekend the Evil Red-Headed Berta Lou wanted me to go with her to something called The Battle of the Bands. Because I do whatever the Evil BL tells me to, I went. Also in attendance at this insanely loud event were two people who we’ll call Thing One and Thing Two.
Thing One was a highly repellent looking creature who looked to be in her mid-fifties. Her hairstyle was circa 1973 and she had the graying complexion of someone who has been chain smoking filter less, hand-rolled cigarettes since kindergarten.
Thing Two was a wimpy looking guy around the same age who weighed just about eighty-five pounds with five of those directly attributed to the weight of the grease in his hair.
Their crime? Their seemingly voracious appetite for one another.
Yes, I am a freak about inappropriate PDA’s (public displays of affection) and I admit it.
I can tolerate hand holding if it’s absolutely necessary… and by necessary I am assuming that one of the two is feeling faint and there is no motorized scooter or licensed EMS person readily available. But I can stomach nothing more.
When two people are all snuggly and touchy-feely in public I don’t think it’s cute, or precious or sweet. I think it’s gross and icky and completely criminal. These two Things were groping each other like perhaps they were wearing bubble wrap in their underwear and were playing a vigorous game of Pop It.
Gross as it was, I couldn’t stop looking at them. I do enjoy the Discovery Channel after all and as I missed the special on the mating habits of the North American Overweight Wildebeests, I felt compelled to see exactly how it all works.
FYI – the male wildebeest apparently arouses the interests of the female by constantly rubbing her back while simultaneously dangling a Marlboro out the side of his mouth and dry humping her leg.
I looked all around the concert area in hopes of finding anyone who might save the crowd from this repulsive x-rated exhibition. While I spotted several men in badges that could have easily shot these randy savages right in the head, they did nothing. No shots were fired and no one was handcuffed and taken downtown.
All that has to happen for ugly people to procreate is for those who have guns not to shoot them in the head.
Had I myself been certified as a caped crusader, I could have deployed my lasso, took them into custody and gotten the commissioner to throw them out of the city. Of course later on I’d have had to battle them after they fell into a giant tub of acid while trying to perform the Venus Butterfly, but I’d be willing to risk it.
Footnote: I still don’t know what the Venus Butterfly is. Curse you 80’s lawyer show.
Heard this the other day and remembered I loved it terrible back in the day.
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