Deuces

I feel sorry for people in wheelchairs. But not for the reason you think. I’m not into pitying people because of their physical condition. Because you never know what their situation or testimony is. I feel sorry for people in wheelchairs because of what goes on in [handicapped] accessible bathrooms all across this country. Everyone reading this knows that when you feel the need to “marque numero dos” in a public restroom, you instinctively check to see if the handicapped stall is available. There’s something about the extra space or that it’s usually the furthest from the door, but everyone does it. Yes, you too.

Well think about how you would feel if you were in a wheelchair and every time you went into a bathroom your only option was the stall everyone else uses to take the Browns to the Superbowl. I was in a store restroom yesterday, and when I was coming out of my stall there was a lady in a wheelchair headed towards the accessible stall. When I got to the sink, I heard her go, “Oh my!” Then I turned to see her shaking her head, and then reluctantly rolling in. I felt so awful for her. I mean we’ve all been in that situation before, but most of us take for granted that when we walk into a gross bathroom we can just try another one.

That nasty handicapped stall is all this lady had…

Think about that next time you’re in a public restroom and you’ve gotta [insert your own euphemism here — I’m all out]. And let’s try and do a little better for our friends on two wheels.

Friends don’t let friends wear jeggings

enabler

noun \i-n?-bl?r\

1 :one who encourages another to persist in self-destructive behavior by providing excuses or by making it possible to avoid the consequences of such behavior.

Rather than use it in a sentence, I have opted instead to offer a visual explanation. Please check out this video clip and the photo below and meet me on the other side.

You see all those people cheering in the audience? Jersey Shore Ronnie sitting on somebody’s shoulders? And all the other artists giving Wayne dap? I’m talking especially to YOU — Khaled, Rick Ross… They have enabled this once-clever lyricist to the point where he now thinks everything he does is hot — including running around the stage bare bird-chested in leopard pajama jeans and Ronald McDonald shoes, singing R&B and pretending to play electric guitar.

Part of the problem is that once anyone gets super famous like Wayne, a “yes” bubble forms around them.

WAYNE: Yo, y’all think I should rock these jungle print footie pajamas to the MTV Awards?
THEM: If we say no, you still gon’ pay our rent?
WAYNE: No.
THEM: Then, yes.

Or maybe it’s just the drugs. I mean would a clean Wayne — even if surrounded by an army of “yes men” — do some of the things he does? I think if he actually has some people in his life that really care about him, they should call the folks over at A&E and get dude on an episode of “Intervention.” All they’d need to do is get him halfway sober and show him his VMA performance from Sunday night. The show would only need to last 4 minutes. Just get everybody in the room, turn on the DVR, put him in the limo to the rehab, roll credits. Cause I mean, really… What more is there to say?

In Your Dreams

OK, so Dream Water is a “relaxation” shot that tastes like blueberry and pomegranate?

Yeah… No.

If I’m gonna pay $7 for a shot that supposed to make me sleepy, it’s gonna be bourbon. But I do love how it’s sitting at the register right next to the 5 Hour Energy shot… Do you wanna be knocked out or dangerously awake?

Only in America. Snoozeberry… I guess.

My big ass in a twin bed

I had a show on Friday nite in Red Lion, PA, which is just the next town over from York. Don’t you just LOVE how all their street signs have a red lion on them? I do. ;) Turned out to be a really, really fun show. Small crowd due to the holiday weekend but they all came to laugh and we had a BALL! I hung out with the owner and his family, the other comics and some of the audience members for a couple hours after the show just drinking and chatting it up on the patio of the venue. Good times!

They put us up in a local bed and breakfast which is always fine with me. I like B&B’s and I’m not usually picky about lodging as long as it’s clean. But when I walked into the room I was to stay in it had two twin beds in it. GEEZ LOUISE!!! I haven’t slept in a twin bed since I was the age and size you are when you’re supposed to stop sleeping in twin beds. It was the worst nite of sleep I’ve had in years. I kept waking up just as I was about to roll off the bed. My back was in tears by the morning. And what made it even worse is that when I spoke with the other guests, I realized it was the only room that had twin beds and DIDN’T have a private half bathroom.

Why did I get shafted?

When they checked me in, they should have been able to take one look at me and tell that a twin bed probably wouldn’t suit me. I wasn’t the only single person staying there, and I checked in before the other single guest. But here’s the kicker…

If you look at the screenshot above, I was staying in the Spring Room. You can see a picture of the tiny ass bed I had to sleep in. BUT in the description it says that the room contains 2 twin beds OR 1 king size bed. I’m sayin’: What’s a girl gotta do to get the “or?” Exhale. I’m definitely not a diva; I just prefer the bed I’m sleeping in to be larger than I am. Now perhaps that’s more a statement about how large I am, than how large the bed wasn’t… But if you say that to me, we can’t be friends anymore. You get that, right?