Sunday, May 29, 2011

Not Neighborly

I’m a neighbor. I live in a building with 28 apartments. I’m not neighborly.

Don’t get me wrong, if one of my neighbors were in need of help (of the 911 kind) I’d be there in a jiffy to lend a hand, but other than that I have no desire to mingle with the other 27 apartment dwellers in my building.

I only know the names of about four people in my building. The others I just smile when I see them and nod a courteous hello and hurry on my way before they get into a chatty “My name is... what’s yours?” mood.

There are people who love to get overly friendly with their neighbors, to hang out together, to plan their weekends together, to become best buds, to walk in uninvited and help themselves to each other’s food and drink, to watch movies together, to sleep together, and to do whatever else intrusive neighbors do. Maybe they think they’re on an episode of “Friends.”

That’s not me. Not at all.

I always thought Ross, Rachel, Monica, Joey, Chandler, and Phoebe were overbearing neighbors.

Last summer a few of the tenants in my building thought it’d be a swell idea to have a “building barbecue” in the courtyard. The organizers posted pretty computer generated invites on everyone’s door. “It’ll be fun!” “Bring something you’d like to grill!” “From 4 PM to...”

I conveniently scheduled a root canal at 4 PM that day.

And now that it’s Memorial Day, the official beginning of the barbecue season, I dread coming home and finding a cheery building barbecue invite on my door.

Maybe this year I’ll schedule a colonoscopy.

I can’t help it. I’m just not neighborly.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Mother Knows Best

Some mothers are good mothers. Some mothers are not-so-good mothers. And some mothers are complete idiots.

Kerry is an idiot mother.

Who’s Kerry?

She’s the San Francisco mother of eight year old Britney, a cute little girl who participates in beauty pageants. Cute. Little Girl. Not a woman. A little girl.

But little Britney’s pre-pubescent head was full of worries of facial wrinkles, so mother Kerry suggested Botox injections. Yes, a grown woman and “mother” began injecting her eight year old daughter with Botox giving her five shots in three different locations of her face.

Well! Botox is certainly the answer to low self-esteem in children. Why didn’t anyone think of this earlier?

“Honey, you’re not pretty enough to be in a beauty pageant but with me injecting you regularly with miracle drug Botox you’ll suddenly be pretty enough to at least become third runner up, and if we inject you even more I can see first runner up in your future!”

I say hey Kerry why stop at a few Botox injections in the child’s face?

Botox those little girl lips so they’re nice and pouty and sexy for the pre-teen pageant judges. Everyone wants to see a child beauty contestant with lips so full they could french kiss a moose.

And don’t forget about the pre-pubescent ass. It needs more booty so bend your daughter over and inject some ass cheek miracle drug in those undefined ass cheeks so she looks booty-licious.

And what about a little booby action so she can fill out that bikini she wears in the swimsuit competition or the halter top gown she wears in the formalwear competition? Most eight year olds are flat chested, but you Kerry can have an eight year old daughter with a full bosom if you call Dr. Boobman and get your little Britney silicon implants asap. As she grows older and enters more and more pageants you can increase her boobie size to really entice those judges. A 42-D on a ten year old should really make her a winner.

Psychologically Britney is going to be so sane. She’ll be the envy of everyone. And to think self-worth in a syringe is all it took.

Oh Kerry, I think we need to vote you “Mother of the Year.”