Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Observations

1. On the way home after the last poker tournament at Derek's house, Heather and I passed an SUV with a bumper sticker that read:

Not so lean
Not so mean
But still a Marine!

... I laughed and then proceeded to have quite a bit of fun with it. A fair amount of it was "you had to be there" stuff having to do with me saying witty things in strange voices; most of which won't carry over well in print.

I wondered what type of person such a sticker was designed for. A retired Marine? An office Marine? A Marine that has grown a tinch chunky and friendlier over time? "I may be assigned desk duty, my ass has grown larger than my chair and I'm kind to children and kittens, but I'm still a Marine dammit! Ooowah! Donuts! Hey sarge! I can TAKE that hill! *munch*munch*munch*"

Or is it possibly for the more effeminate Marine? I'm not speaking of women. I'm talking about the ones you don't ask, don't tell about. At least, that was the policy back when I was enlisted. Perhaps it's different now, and they give them bumper stickers?

"I'm a MARINE! Semper Fi Guys!" or "I'm a closet Marine. Shhhhhh!"

I just don't know.

I tried to get a look at the driver as we passed but he/she had tinted windows and it was at night so no luck.

2. On the way in to work there was an old, old, old, old, olllllldddddd, woman behind me in a new Chrysler. She had an angel hanging on her rear view mirror. Every time I came to a stop I would look in my mirror to see if she was going to hit me. She never did, but EVERY time she came to a stop, up until I was able to ditch her, she would turn her head and talk to that angel. Freaky. I knew she was talking to the angel because she would look right at it and her lips would move. Then she would look ahead at me and her lips would stop. Then she looked back and the moving lips started up again. I'm a little concerned that she was talking about me. And even more concerned about what the angel was saying.

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