Wednesday, December 24, 2014

~ Dear Po Po

As a copkid, I gotta tell ya, nobody wants to type this less than I do.  I have had more conversations backing your play than I could ever begin to accurately calculate.  The little girl who was so proud of her Mom and Dad for bein' badge wearin' badasses?  I remember her.  Mostly because I saw her the last time I passed a reflective surface.  No matter how much gray sets in or how many fine lines I spy, that lil' girl who thinks she comes from near superhero stock because her folks were cops gawks back.  I make it a habit to give shit to any and all fire people I encounter.  Two words:  General principal.  No matter how many gallons of blood I've donated I'm still a bit surprised when I look down and don't see blue filling up the bag.  I am the epitome of a leave the dance with the one who brought ya kinda girl.

Any presupposed notion that I have an axe to grind with the Po-Po is the plot line of your narrative, not mine.  Don'tcha hate when bloggers say things online that they can't backup?  Yeah, me too.  Boom

In fact, what I'm about to ramble say, I say out of a lifetime of love, understanding and respect, and a desire for this?  This climate?  This moment of time?  This way you're being looked at by the public?  This extra nutting up you must have to do these days to do an already supremely difficult job?  ...A true desire for all of this to be over.

I know you think the public has turned on you.  Whenever police are the worst conversations come up I often end up saying something classy along the lines of, 'now that you know this, that 'n the other about a situation put yourself in a LEO's shoes?  What the fuck different do you do?'   --Sometimes a 'viewpoint' is just a lack of earnestly looking at something from the other side.  Personally, I always find it a pretty shitty way to formulate a viewpoint about the 5-Oh, but I also find it a pretty shitty way to formulate a viewpoint about the public outta LE.

Seeing an issue takes eyesight.
Understanding an issue takes perspective. 
And not just your own.

It's a mistake many of you are making.

Please!  I implore you, stop looking at this as a them (civilians) against us (LE) thing.  Yes, I know 20 times a shift you're getting lots of feedback that feels and looks very Us vs. Them.  I swear to you, it's not.  This is a You vs. You thing. 

There is no solution to the protests, side-eyes and criticism you're experiencing that civilians have any control over.  None. 

Think about it.  Hands upping and #ICantBreathe-ing isn't an outcry for LE to turn into hug giving, daisy and crystal carrying softies.  It's not about hatred for the police, although some people are going to hate ya solely because you sport a badge- - some always have and I suspect some always will.  They are known as assholes.   It's a demonstration of the public wanting to see LE practices, procedures and training reflective of a system that does everything possible to avoid unnecessarily killing people.   Yes.  I said 'unnecessarily'.  I fully acknowledge the danger of the job and that sometimes a bad guy gotta die.  When my guy used to Sam Browne 'n vest it up I always sent him away with a reminder that, "you are to come home."  [BBGW post: Shoot Anybody You Have To]  He knew I loved him.  As he hit the streets I needed him to know that whatever popped off that shift, whatever had to happen for him to return to me was what had to fuckin' happen.  Period.  Full stop. People understand necessary deaths.  Ahem.  Reasonable people understand that some situations unfold in a manner that practically precludes anything other than a crim dying from being the outcome.  Those same reasonable people, I, expect that those instances are the result of their bad decisions.  Not that they're the result of your bad decisions.  (Not you specifically, LE-er/random blog stumble on-er.  For the Official Record, I believe that you are probably a part of the overwhelmingly vast majority of law enforcement that is comprised of well intentioned, honorable, kind, brave people called to serve their communities, to keep their neighbors safe and within the bounds of law and order.)  Again, who is best positioned to fix the unnecessary kills at the hands of LE, you or soccer mom Suzi standing on the street with a sign?  My apologies to Suzi's and soccer moms.

What you are actually seeing is an intervention.  You can deny and deflect, or you can choose to recognize that there's a problem that others see very clearly needs addressing. 
Which are you doing?

I hate to sound like I'm Monday morning quarterbacking, it's not my intention.  It's also not my intention to be anything other than (fingers crossed) insightful/helpful as you navigate the collective relationship status update large parts of the public have recently alerted you to. 

Obviously, I'm not the arbiter of what legally constitutes an unjustified kill.  But I have eyes.  And common sense.  And both tell me that with five? Six officers on the scene?  There were other outcomes which didn't involve a man dead.  As anyone with an internet connection can see this wasn't a time sensitive situation that simply stood no chance of de-escalating, where the only solution was going to ground and choke-holding, this wasn't a terrorist with a kill switch, this was a big ass guy selling single cigs on the sidewalk.  Look.   I get that like tango it takes two (or more) to escalate a situation.  But I also get that it's a crims job to be a crim (with all of the dumbassery, poor impulse control and bad decision making skills that accompany it) and it's LE's job to be the professionals in any and every situation that comes down the pike.  LE is trained in de-escalating, it, like qualifying, and paperwork is part of the job.   Having an actual snuff film featuring a failure to handle what probably could should have been the most minor interaction any of those officers had with a criminal element that day, going viral and the subsequent protest is not a sign that they are off the rails.  Give any 'yeah, but' response ya want, my answer would be the same--   Is that how you'd want your loosey slingin' family member to to be managed by the police if they were at the same level of agitation?  Every MOS has that family member.  (Full disclosure:  Mine was a cousin by marriage who got pinched on drug charges.  My Dad had to arrest him.  'Had' is disingenuous phrasing.  He didn't have to, any number of others could have, I think he thought his presence would make a difficult situation go down easier.  Needless to say Christmas's after that were awkward.  j/k.  We didn't Christmas together before.  There is also a distant family member arrested for shoplifting meat from a grocery.  I'm just sayin';  We all got 'em.  If one draws down on LE, of course you expect they'll be unloaded on.  But you can't deny that you too would expect them to survive a LE encounter over a minor violation that doesn't include your kin tryin' to get lethal with LE.)     

If the protesters want no more than what your expectation of good policing would look like when applied to your family?  Are you starting to see how this has nothing to do with them, and everything to do with how Team Us is collectively conducting itself?

To get suddenly succinct?  Police your own brass and all of Team Them goes away. 

If you're not inclined to listen to some random blogger listen to @ChiefBlackwell:

Obviously, you are not responsible for any one other than yourself.  Again, most reasonable people understand this.  However, much like when you're working and you know who needs to get locked up, but you jusssssst need some wit to speak the fuck up to be able to start to fix whatever problem you've responded to--   You have to be the person to speak the fuck up in this situation, that is, if you wanna fix the sitch and return to your rightful place of being a looked at as the badasses you are, and not the bad asses we see played out too cringeworthingly often on the news. 

Instead of reacting like protesters have some kinda unmitigated fuckin' gall being outraged, consider why they have so much to be outraged about?

Stop giving people ammunition to be used against you.  If you don't want significant portions of the population to think you are a bunch out of control, bunch together to put a stop to out of control behavior.  What you see that never makes the news, people can't even imagine.  But look at the videos of late that leave nuthin' to the imagination...  Eric Garner12 y/o Tamir Rice.  John CrawfordMarcus JeterLevar Jones.  Marlene PinnockAlbert Flowers.   Officer punching child ...You can't objectively look at those and really wonder how Team Them arrived at suspicion, anger and protest.  I guess, ya can.  Look, it's fillin' up my feeds, but I sure as shit don't recommend it if your looking for perspective and an end to this.  Now, ya might not like how protesters are going about displaying their disdain over what they've seen, but you don't get to pick other people's reactions.  Ever.  But specifically when you've devised, instituted and sanction, either tacitly or expressly what it is they are reacting to.  Ya can't give someone sour milk and then be angry that they don't like getting sour milk, and angry that they puked on your shoe, ya know?  Bottom line is if they have nothing to be up in arms about, then you won't see hands up, et al type reactions.   

This shit?  Is not the way to bolster benevolence from the public. 
It is a great way to ensure hard feelings, skepticism and animosity. 
It's a fantastic way to breed contempt in the communities you serve, and not with the assholes are never going to like you but with the solid citizens who want to have your back-- the people you count on the most aside from your fellow officers.  You're moving the line from hard to almost impossible to back you for too damn many Americans.     

It's 2014.  There are cameras e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e. 
Act like you understand that. 
(Please Note:  The threat of a viral video shouldn't be the
deterrent to dickhead deeds.  Decency should be.)

As things are, and just so we're clear, here's where we are...  One of my friends is also a copkid [actually, several are] her father recently tried to dissuade his grandchild from considering a career in LE.  Now, I've never known this man to be anything other than proud of his service to his community.  Proud of his profession.  (As he fuckin' ought to be.)  And he's tryin' to talk his grandkid outta badging up.  Not because he's afraid for the kid's safety.  But because he doesn't see any ebb to this current flow of mounting distrust of LE and doesn't want his family member to have to be painted with that brush. 

Maybe I'm naïve, but I believe I think the tide can be turned.  You just have to turn it.  Bad apple practices, procedures and people gotta go.  If your expectation level is that community members have to nut up and help solve a problem in their house/'hood, what would make the LE house/'hood any different? 

A giant step towards nutting up and solving the problems at your doorstep?  This:

As much as many of you would like this not to be a race thing.  In large part it simply is.  Look.  Yes, racism exists in every profession.  And if you aren't a racist, congratulations, you have met one of the bare minimum requirements the public looks for in a law official, and a decent human.  But institutionalized racism doesn't exists without people within the institution lookin' the other way, whether intentionally or out of ignorance.  Regardless, when there is actual evidence (see what I did there?) proving that race adversely impacts the interactions with LE at a disproportionately and disturbingly high level to the detriment of people of color, the U.S.S. BenefitOfTheDoubt has already sailed.  If you're busy denying racism within the ranks you're not adept at taking in clues and are in the wrong job. 

Denying something doesn't make it not so, or better. 
Acknowledging something doesn't make it worse, but it is the first step in fixing it.
If you're not willing to do anything about it you're definitely in the wrong job.  (5-O Fact:  Pussin' out is not a desirable attribute in an officer.)  It's not that people expect that LE should somehow magically be exempt from having bigots in the bunch.  Although you'd have a lot less shit to deal with if magic worked that way. It's not that people somehow think every other profession might/could have racists but LE is the only place the phenomena doesn't exists.  It's that the public expects that you will protect them against that too.  Clearly, that's not the experience of too fucking many citizens. (Or, apparently, fellow officers.)  Reminder:  That's not a Team Them issue to solve.  Team Them being fed up with it isn't the problem.  Media coverage of it isn't the problem.  Hashtactivist aren't the problem.  Too many good cops sitting silently as the dregs degrade the profession is the problem.  Don't be that badge.  Don't let others get away with bein' that badge on your watch.  It doesn't make you a loyal cop.  It makes you a weak one.  And a hypocritical one the next time you're pushing someone to tell the dirt on some sumbag they have knowledge of and you're nine kinds of pissed when they don't. 

I know you think this is a protest.  But if you look it really is an intervention.  As I glance at this long ass and curse-y post (honestly, through a few tears) I realize it's nothing more than that letter you see on TV being read by a family member who wants nothing more than to help to try to coax their loved one to be the best they can be, to help pull them from the grips of what plagues them.  The people on the street?  They might not think of you like family as I do, maybe they'd never sit ya down and have a heart to heart with ya like a good friend would like I sincerely am attempting to be, but make no mistake, no matter how you're seeing the message phrased or framed, no matter how much you don't want to hear that noise all Team Them wants is the same thing the same thing I do--  For this not to be.  For your reputation to be beyond reproach.  For all citizens to consider you their safety and not question if you are their danger.  (The exact same things you should want.)  As with all interventions, regardless of how much others desire *goodness* for you?  This battle to bring that to fruition is ultimately yours.   And I sure hope you want it as much as I do for ya.   I don't know what will happen if you don't.  This is a fulcrum moment.  Please tip yourselves away from the bad apple-ing that is rotting what should always be considered one of the noblest of titles, Police Officer. 

~ BBG 


Thursday, December 18, 2014

~ Why I Hate The Elf On The Shelf

1)  I suffer from Tooliteralism therefore I find it unacceptable that he seemingly spends so little time on a shelf.  If it's part of your actual name?  Live the fuck up to it.  Jimmy 'the Greek' wasn't German. 

B)  I feel like he is in the early stages of a coup.  It's well documented...  Santa knows when you are sleeping.  He knows when you're awake.  He knows if you've been good or bad.  ...So what's this prick up to?  Santa doesn't need a frail, loose lipped lackey in his entourage.   He's the man.  Elf is nuthin' but a chump biding his time until the I'm assuming bloody holiday hostile takeover begins.  #Usurper

Trois)  I'm not even convinced this sneaky child watchin' bastard is even an elf.  Granted, my knowledge of elves is quite limited.  But what I do know?  A:  Elves have pointy ears.  Those look like perfectly average ears.  (Elf ear peepin' - hereLollipop guild member?  Maybe.  Elf?  Nah.  ...And if he lies about that?  What else is he lying about??

IV)  Now, I'm not a parent.  This in no way precludes me from providing parenting advice.  I get that sometimes snitching is the best course of action.  We are in the era of if you see sumthin', say sumthin' after all.  I don't begrudge Elf for reporting accurate information.  But that's situational.  When habitual it's called bein' a tattletale.  Right after don't hit/bite and this is how/where to pee, one of the first things a kid learns is, "don't be a tattletale".   Yet each Christmas a confusing message is sent that while they shouldn't tattle it's perfectly permissible for the Elf to do so.  The holidays are already too convoluted by hypocrisy.  The meaning of the season vs. the marketing and materialism of the season.  This extra layer of don't tattle/no, tattling is totally ok is just unnecessary.  Eliminate the confusion.  ELIMINATE THE ELF! 


Tuesday, December 16, 2014

~ Separated At Birth

When I was a lil' brown girl I spent my hard earned money on this book:

In fairness, my Mom probably spent her hard earned currency.  I likely invested my funds in shares of Lic-A-Stick.  Nonetheless, this book was one of my LBG faves, as demonstrated by the fact that I still fuckin' have it. 

Obviously, sumthin' rubbed off on me...

Dear Mark & Ethan,
Stop being the same person.

Please note:  Fame is not necessary for doppelganger-ness.  Kid?  Of course everyone knows Kid and his esteemed colleague, Play.   But unless you find yourself watching tv in Buckeyeland, Rob Nestico may be an unfamiliar face name.  Now, I donno what kind of an attorney he is, but he makes a strong case for starting the rumor that Kid entered witness protection, changed his name, got a haircut, moved to Ohio and passed the bar.
(Rob/Kid's commercial - Here)
Separated at birth can even happen to things not actually born.  

Did I take the picture of the Brussels sprouts because up until that very moment wanderin' the aisles of Trader Joe's I believed that Brussels sprouts (aka: mini cabbage) were made in the same way regular cabbage is made, in the ground?  Yes.  Yes, I did.  (So, thank you Trader Joe's for being both a place to buy things and a learning opportunity.  Love,  ~ BBG)

I'm not suggesting Son of Sam and the Top Chef-er have the same mother/father.  But without conclusive DNA results I certainly can't rule it out.  Can you?


Thursday, December 11, 2014

~ Where's Your Wallet?

In my experience, it's fair to say unless you are currently engaging in the alcohol arts you probably know exactly where your wallet is.  It's one of those items we, with the exclusion of tipsiness, would never really let out of our sight, but more accurately, our presence.  Sans sandman time, we tend to keep our money on us.  Most people go to great lengths to secure their wallet.  It's so the norm that it's hard to conceive of a scenario where you would purposefully put your wallet in danger of being stolen, isn't it? 

Which is what made what I watched unfold earlier today so heartbreaking.

It was a quick stop at a gas station convenience mart for some smokes.  (From the Do What I Say, Not What I Do Files;  Don't smoke.  This isn't hypocrisy, it's when people who do something say you shouldn't do it, that's your sign-risy.)  As I pulled into the parking space a black guy wearin' a black hoodie walked by and in just before me, I passed him in an asile, he gentlemanly stepped outta my way as I breezed by.  That was the extent of my interaction with this stranger guy.  He wound up in front of me in the line for the cashier.  I had taken no special note of him.  Which is sayin' sumthin' because I am one of those drive up to a gas station (really, anyplace) take a second to look to see if anyone/thing looks hinkey before entering type girl.  (aka:  A girl who was raised by Police Officers to be situationaly aware.)  I want some smokes, maybe a pop.  I do not want to walk into a armed robbery, ya know?   

But it didn't take long for black/black hoodie guy to have my full and undivided attention.  As he stepped up with whatthefuckever he was purchasing he said something to the cashier and I watched him turn around step away from the counter, walk towards the motion sensor-y doors, bend down to get his backpack from the floor.  He proceeded to pull out his wallet and return to pay for his items.

As I stood there shame and pity overwhelemed me.  I felt it wash over me from head to toe as I recognized that a man didn't recklessly leave his money at the entrance of a store just begging to be pilfered.  I wanted to be wrong.  And I hate being wrong.  I so wanted him to be a dumbass who just didn't understand the ramifications of leaving ones valuables unattended in a public place.  I knew I wasn't.  But I asked anyway... Come on, humanity-- No Whammies!

"If you've got a second I have a weird question for ya?"

Once I completed my transaction I turned to find black/black hoodie guy misguidedly patiently waiting for me, as we stepped outside I super nosily asked him, "why was your backpack on the floor?" 

His answer?  '...girl, you know.  Less hassle...' 

I heard his words.  But what I felt, what broke my heart and filled me with shame for our society was his subtext;  As a black man in 2014, in America, I live in a culture where it's preferable to have all of the valuables I'm carrying stolen than it is to walk through a store with anything that might give someone even the slightest of notions that I might be committing a crime. 

The next time someone tries to tell you about what a magical post-racial climate we're livin' in before you nod in agreement, ask yourself if that's actually true?  Or if the only truth is that s/he is a skin color that is culturally afforded the benefit of the doubt that s/he probably isn't there to thieve and isn't made feel that in order to avoid being unnecessarily inconvenienced the safest, easiest, best course of action when buyin' a snack is to leave their wallet on the floor by the door?  


Monday, November 24, 2014

~ Girlcott 2014

The list of things I boycott is, admittedly, lengthy.  But honestly?  What's wrong with putting one's money where their mouth and conscience is?  People should support whatever strikes their personal fancy.  I've been boycotting all non-American owned and operated breweries since before I was legally old enough to drink.  (so long, PBR)  I'm currently in the midst of breaking up with boycotting McDonald's. 

"Where we can do?  We should do."     - BBG

As much as I believe in a responsibility to boycott shit I am diametrically opposed to, for some reason/the fuckin' other, I also believe there is an equal responsibility to girlcott* (the opposite of boycotting) things I dig and respect.

I don't want to sound sexists, but girlcotting is unequivocally the best kind of cotting.  Apologies, boys. 

Unlike boycotting, which serves to punish, girlcotting serves to reward (everyone).  #PositiveCorporateReinforcement

...And when rewarding an entity that aligns with your view of how the world oughta be, plus you still get to get/have/do what you want?  Girlcott participation is a no-brainer.

Also a should-be no-brainer?  The notion that people ought to, unless they work a It's-Imperative-for-the-Wellbeing-of-Mankind kind of job, be able to take the day to gather with friends and/or family for Thanksgiving without greedy ass corporations making that fuckin' impossible.  Sadly, because this blog-y world is the only one I've been granted oversight of it's not. 

The truth is by the time Santa stops waving at lil' prade watchin' kids Thursday morn' mom's, grandpa's and cousins all over the country will leave their families to save a couple of bucks on some item that (Spoiler:) in 17 months the recipient won't remember they own.  Clearly, a too damn many lot of American brains subscribe to the mindset of;  I gotz ta git mine

Companies gotz ta git their profits.  ...Money.  People love you more than Granny's stuffing.  Fine.  Apparently, more than Granny.  And if that means they have to manipulate sell consumers on the myth that in order to properly 'git theirs' saving $17 is a better expenditure of Thanksgiving Day time than spending time with those gathered 'round their table?  So.  Fucking.  Be.  It.

I'm sure heaven, the after life, whatever you cotton to, is filled with dead loved one's who's last thought was, 'That (insert sweet ass deal item here) was better than just one more conversation.  Good call, (loved one)'.

We (of the collective variety) fall for it.  In droves.  Dumbasses.  It takes two to fuck up the holiday fabric of our culture tango.  But I feel extra blame gets assessed towards business as they leave their workers no choice about how they'll choose to spend the day.  Greedy ass bastards tracing back to Scrooge McDuck have historically gravitated towards this tactic.    

It's time to Tiny Tim up.  WWTTD?  

Honestly?  I have no clue.  But I like to imagine, that like you, he'd be on board with a well deserved girlcott.

As a reward to the non-greedy Thanksgiving day at least companies that when it came down to Put Up v. Shut Up of showing how they 'value their employees', picked Put Up, these are places I'll be girlcotting over the next few weeks.  If your conscience tells you people who aren't police officers, nurses, pilots, gas station workers, hotel staff, the person who keeps the electricity from switchin' off in your area, et al essential to society not falling into anarchy should have an opportunity to spend a family/friend day with family 'n friends?  Girlcott the shit outta 'em: 



Friday, November 21, 2014

~ Cat Wine

Cat wine.  Two words I never assumed would ever be combined. 

But here we are.

I'm guessing this is wine made for people as it was tucked away with the rest of the people hooch, and not in the pet aisle.  Plus, cats are historically pretty fuckin' bad with wine openers...  After that I'm not real sure what's happening.  And now I am curious as to Rog, Dee 'n Dwayne's where abouts. (What's Happening!! shout out)  PETA probably wouldn't stand for cat cold presses and feline fermentation?  Therefore, I suppose actual wine made of cats is out. 

Leaving me to ponder, well, frankly, more than what I want to have to ponder about a product I'm never going to purchase who the target audience is for cat wine?  What that meeting was like?  "...So in conclusion, as you can see the cross over segment between cat ladies and chardonnay is a lucrative market worth courting."  What were the other kitty bottle options?  Were there creepier cat bottle concepts, or was this the creepiest?  Will there be a Hello Kitty crossover event/commemorative bottle?   What is the proper food paring?  Tuna?

So.  Many.  Questions.

I feel like I could use a lil' glug-glug, meow, glug.

Other BBGW Cat-centric Posts


Thursday, November 13, 2014

~ All The Bald-y Ladies

I know it's wrong to stereotype. 

But frankly, I know lots of things are wrong and do them anyway when I see a bald chick I always see them in the exact same way. 

Immediately I recognize that, oh geez, I donno, girl baldness is a fashion choice, what 2% of the time?  So I already know that rockin' the bald dome is totally Option B.  (aka: I'm just tryin' to stay the fuck alive over here/Hair:  It committed suicide, but I must go on)

In a world seemingly obsessed with the state of a woman's hair--   the fact that extensions and weaves are a thing, and that people spend large amounts of both money and time on 'em?  That female news reporters all over the country routinely get more hair tips than story tips, or critiques?    I mean...  Think of the moxy, inner fortitude and sense of self a woman has to possess to wander into public appearing dramatically different than she's ever known herself, into a world that is not always uber nice, sensitive or understanding.  (aka: chocked full of assholes, imbeciles  and dolts)  No matter how that's sliced, diced or rearranged?  That.  Takes.  Balls.  (Please Note:  Remember that time you were embarrassed and full of self doubt 'cause ya had to go out with a pimple, scar or wrinkle?)

By the time I see her free-ranging in society, unlike most other random ass strangers I see, she's already shown me what she's made of.  In the blink of an eye I know she's a badass.  She woke up bald, has a life to lead and/or is too busy fighting for her life, and fully doesn't give a shit about what you or I think.  #Priorities

Which is a big fuckin' deal. 

1 at the time beau, plus H2B#3 & H2B#2
Look at men.  Among the XY-ers baldness is a pretty common phenomenon.  They have a pattern named after them for fuck's sake.  You may have heard of it?  Sure some men are perfectly fine being/going bald.  (aka: men I dig)  But for a good number of 'em baldness is traumatic.  How traumatic?  Next time you see a guy in a horrible rug, ahem rather, next time you see a guy in a toupee remind yourself;  That's how overwhelming and uncomfortable being in a state of baldness is to some people.  He'd rather be seen wearing a lopsided raccoon than be seen sans hair in public.  And guys haven't been conditioned their entire lives that their hair is their 'crowning glory'.  ...I'm just sayin' a girl who gets right with herself under bald-y situations isn't just showin' you her shiny dome, she's showing you her strength. 

(Dear Wig Wear-ers,
I'm not sayin' you're not strong.  As I've said before I'm a staunch your head/your choice-er.  The reason I don't include you in this, lets face it, blog that no one should put any stock in.  [For clarity's sake, I don't mean this post/subject.  I mean them all.]  The reason is, odds are if you're sportin' a wig?  I'm simply not gonna notice.  I'm sure I pass war hero's when I'm out 'n about too, but if they're not wearin' a Purple Heart hat I don't recognize it in them, ya know? 

[ATTN Men:    Apologies.  This does not apply to you.  We know.  We always know.])

All a bald girl head looks like to me is war paint. 

As someone who generally considers myself strong (although I also keep a list of weaknesses that is longer than is ideal) I know gutting up is hard.  Which is a complete and fucking utter understatement.  And while I don't know what nuttin' up like that is, I know what it's like to have to war.  I know it takes tapping into a strength reserve many of us didn't know we had until we had (no choice but) to have it.   When I see that girl meetin' the world like a badass warrior it not only garners my full respect, but it makes me proud to be a girl.  Proud to be in her ranks.  

I have a friend who just went buzz-buzz, clip-clip, in what I clumsily referred to as Operation New Look (yeah, I'm a reeeeeeal treat to have as a friend) for the first time during her second bout of fighting off cancer.  I hope she knows, I hope all the bald-y ladies know that those looks you feel?  Yeah, they're happening.  And as I mentioned earlier, I can't rule out assholes, imbeciles and dolts you might encounter in this situation or any.  They're out there.  The struggle is real, yo.  But the other looks?   Most of the other looks?  Pride.  Strength.  And good wishes. 

Related BBGW Posts:


Tuesday, November 4, 2014

~ Election Day: I'm Pissy. Are You?

Election Day reeeeally pisses me off.  ( -- Apparently, I'm easily holiday irritated, as Memorial Day and Veteran's Day also annually bring out my ire. [see below])

How much so?

...Just about this much:


Dear America,

Do.  Fucking.  Better.  You're tellin' me 42% (expected midterm voters today) of givin' a shit about active participation of the framework our forefathers set us up with, and payin' our debt to the men (and women) who ensured our ability to freely do so with their lives...  42%That's all ya got?  Now you know that's some bullshit. 

...And nooooo, not just because I say so.  Because, well, look for yourself: 

According to Wiki:
(they average low turnout [midterm] elections and higher
turnout [presidential] elections during ranking period)

This is America.  Why is Estonia beating us in anything?  (Apologies.  No offense, Estonia.  You are a very pretty girl with a great personality.  Now stop crying.)  ...Let alone leading the chorus on 'Democracy:  This Is How We Do It'?  (Fact:  One of Montell Jordan's more patriotic, but lesser known follow up releases.  [Fact:  That was not an actual fact.  Sometimes I just can't help myself.])  And Malta?  A country that by all rights ought to have a frothy chocolate malt as part of their flag is beating our ass double?  Whaaaat?  

Actual Fact:  We can't continue to be all, "USA, We're #1 U-S-A"-y about everything when we're not first in anything.  Including the shit we actually started.  From Malta to Switzerland they are all out USA-ing us.  ...Which should be unacceptable to any and every American.  

But, clearly, that's not the general consensus 'round here.  

Understandably so.  I guess?  I mean, it's fantasy football season, and do you know how many pumpkin flavored items you can buy now?  Plus ebola?  Basically, elections?...  Ain't nobody got time for 'dat.  People are still bloated from binging on Halloween treats.  Tuesday is probably going to be too rainy/cold/snowy/hot/sunny to get to the polls.  In your mule powered covered wagon, back and forth over the treacherous You're Gonna Die Pass that will take 14 hours.  Coupled with the possibility of standing in a line?  We all know lines are for iPhones, concert tickets, Brown Thursday/Black Friday deals, and every four years the DMV. 

Voting takes time, effort and energy.

...Perhaps if they made it easier for us we'd do better... 

Ya know.  Easier, like, fighting off a buncha red coats whilst tryin' to get a nation off the ground.  Or, maybe easy like giving your life in service to your country.  Until then I guess I'll continue to be pissed off every first Tuesday in November. 

Q: Is this the year you join me?


Update:  2014 Midterm voter turn out worst in 72 years. Only 36.3% of eligible voters voted.
...Like I said, congratulations 'Murica.

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Sunday, September 21, 2014

~ The Stink Bug Saga

This time last year Nana was here for a visit.  The air was crisp, skies were a crystal blue persuasion (is there any possibility I have watched too much Breaking Bad?) and stink bugs were everywhere.  Now if you don't even know what a stink bug is and what I've described sounds bad?  You've got a pretty good grasp of the situation.  And find yourself in similar shoes to my 85 year old grandmother.  Frankly, those are likely to be Dansko or Chuck Taylor's so all in all?  That's not terrible.  But I digress.

Nana who resides a whole whoppin' 60 minutes away claimed to be completely unfamiliar with stink bugs. 

FYE (For Your Edification*): The Stink Bug Edition--

  • They look like what would be the offspring if a armadillo and fly had a baby, which is to say, ugly as fuck.
  • As their moniker implies said ugly ass bugs are stinky if squished. 
  • Stink bugs, nay, flyadillos appear late summer/early fall and spend every moment attempting to gain entry into your home.  Until?  Christmas.  Depending on when it falls maybe Hanukkah.  Ok.  I don't know for sure but they're still around after the first frosts of the season, which is bullshit.
  • They are awful.  And possibly a sign of the apocalypse.
  • If you don't know them, congratulations!  They are an uber invasive scurge and due to their utter craftiness they are all but impossible to keep at bay.  The armored flyin' bug has no known natural enemies to slow its geographical and/or numerical expansion and as of yet there's no keep stink bugs outta my crib ap for that.

Stink bugs are such a nuisance that they're trying to conduct a Stink Bug Census.  Obviously I realize a Stink Bug Census sounds like sumthin' fantastical I have concocted for our entertainment.  It is not.  It.  Is.  Real.  (

(* I typed FYI.  Then I wondered why it wasn't FYE in the first place?  Then I decided it was likely because FYE sounds super douchebaggery.  ...Which amused me, and was preeeeety much the nanosecond I decieded Imma try to work FYE into the mainstream vernacular by using it as often as possible.  hehehe.  [Please note:  This of course will never work.  Exhibit A: In 2011 I tried to bring LOLLy, twat and snatch to the masses   How'd that work out?  Have you used any of those in the past three years?  Yep.)

The arrival of (last) stink bug season conincided with Nana's visit.  The first day a recon stink bug appeared on the outside of the slider screen.  Then there were two.  Then there were 7.  And one made a breach entry.  Then there were 19 hangin' on the screen...  I mean, stink bug avoidance is a whole fuckin' thing, ya dig? 

All the while Nana contends that a few miles away they have zero stink bugs.  Which, of course, I find boggling, but Nana, obviously has no reason to lie to us about, ya know, a bug.

A few days later I returned Nana to her Nana nest.  As I opened my door and hopped out of my ride and I watched a stink bug who had hitched a ride in the door jamb fly away.   Needless to say this caused me to stop and double over in laughter.  Needless to say I'm kinda a horrible person.  Once I was able to construct a sentence I alerted Nana to what had just happened and stifled my giggles.  It sounded a lot like, 'oh, you don't have stink bugs?  ...Guess what?  You do now.  (cackle, cackle, cackle)'  Did I mention that I'm a horrible person...?

Yesterday a few hours after I had placed my daily Nana call my phone rang.  It was Nana. 

BBG:  Helloooooo
Nana:  Hello Miss. BBG (Nana, for reasons I do not know, calls me Miss BBG.)  Something just happened I thought you would want to know...
BBG:  (Silently waits, crossing fingers that, 'I just fell and broke my hip' isn't to follow)
Nana:  I was just in the kitchen, looked out the window and saw a stink bug hanging on the screen.
BBG:  (inexplicably and inappropriately exuberant laughter ensues)  You'rrrrrre welcome!

I feel both fulfilled, and fairly certain I'm goin' to hell.  Which now I'm guessing, is probably (?) filled with flyadillos.


Wednesday, September 17, 2014

~ My Latest Break Up. (Hint: He Was A Real Clown)

If I'm bein' honest one of my longest relationships has been with McDonald's.  We go waaaaaay back.  I remember the good times we had marking rites of passage like moving from the kids meal to a grown up burger.  I remember the day I got my drivers license winding up at the McDonald's on the main drag through town.   We saw each other through the natural changes and ups and downs a long term relationship brings, the McPizza, the hot side hot/cold side cold era, the Jimmy Hoffa-ing of the Hamburgler, Mayor McCheese and the Fry Guys.  ...I mean, they're dead, right?  I assumed it was a part of a bloody power grab staged by Ronald, no? 

And until recently I had never considered this thing we have (somebody watched Goodfellas last night...) in relationship-y terms.  In my mind it's always been a transactional/here's some money, fries me please experience.  But that was before LeBron James returned to the Cavilers this summer.  It was a big deal most places.  It was a big fucking deal here in Ohio.  In the midst of all of the hub 'n bub, which I didn't engage in, primarily 'cause I legitimately didn't give a fuck about any aspect of the will he/won't he?/should he/shouldn't he saga a friend made comment that the situation struck him as;  

"Taking back the ----- who dumped you for someone else and then came crawling back after she realized how good she had it is nothing an entity with any self respect should be proud of. Cavs fans should seek counseling for that low self esteem issue."  ~ Brad Gray

...At the time I was conflicted between that's a little much and but, ya know he's right.  Which lasted all of 6.8 seconds before something shiny caught my eye or someone made a furtive movement and I started thinkin' about cotton candy.

That is until a several weeks ago... 

I had eaten something, although not enough to qualify as dinner (and I gotta be honest with ya, dinner is a super sketchy thing 'round BBG HQ and is routinely the meal of the day) and found myself in the drive thru at McDonald's attempting to augment the 3 pieces of bacon I'd had earlier in the eve with some fries.  ...Now McDonald's and I had been on the rocks for a while, if I'm bein' truth-y.  I don't want to assign blame, but there was a lot of lack of attention on McD's part.  Ronald stopped caring about the things I wanted, like a burger with just ketchup and cheese.  Looking back, with every diced onion and squirt of mustard I should have sensed that he had stopped giving a shit about my wants and desires.   I should have paid attention when he stopped making the effort to keep up his end of the bargain, like when he promised he'd always have a milkshake waiting for me when I wanted one.  And taking away my beloved McDonaldland cookies also should have tipped me off for his true regard for me.  The first few times I believed his excuses and trusted that he'd plan better/follow through next time.  He didn't.  I let it slide.  Hell, I came back for more.  ...Because, ya know, he'll change this is probably the time he'll treat me right.  As I foraged for fries (aka:  went to McDonald's) that night none of this had ever crossed my mind.

As I pulled to the speaker he said, 'heeeeeey, baby.  I'll be right with you'.  Cool.  Then several minutes later another car pulls up in the other order lane and Ronald proceeds to take their order first.  When Ronald returns his attention to me all I get is a terse, "I'll be with you in a minute."  (It had already been several minutes and he'd already swept me to the side to attend to another.) So now Ronald and I are having minor words.  My testiness intensifies as I wait for what seems like an eternity. 

By the time I reach the pay window Ronald and I have this conversation;

Ronald:  Medium fry and a medium iced tea no ice?  X dollars.
BBG:  Yes, but it's a High-C. (Which somewhat surprises me because the order screen read correctly, but whatevs.)
Ronald:  (kinda surly)  medium fry and a iced tea?
BBG:  (thinking specificity in my communication is the key here)  Orange High-C.
Ronald:  (strongly surly)  I'm sayin' High-C.  (Which is when I notice Ronald is missing several of the teeth necessary for accurate enunciation.  And when I also start thinkin', really Ronald?  You wanna try to put this blame on me?  What's more likely in this scenario?  You are hard to understand?  Or I'm just a dumbass who has trouble ordering because this is probably the first time I've ever seen these golden arches I've been hearin' about?) 

...So yeah.  I'm approaching the threshold of drama trauma I'm willing to allot to a fast food joint.  I mean, I was zero percent pissed off when I left BBG HQ.  And now if I had a brick I could pretty easily hit someone in the head.  Additionally, you know those time lapse videos of a dandelion sprouting up and blooming, and dying, and blowing the hell away?   Well that's playin' through my mind.  I check the clock to see if I'm being unreasonable.  (BBG Mid-Post Confession:  I spend, probably, an inordinate amount of time and energy trying to accurately assess if I am being unreasonable or not.  So the next time I say or do something unreasonable, kindly stop to imagine the bevvy of things I've already self censored myself over.  You're welcome.)  But my clock tells me I'm not.  It says I've been super fucking patient for sitting in a damn drive through line for 8 minutes and I haven't even reached the get 'yo food window. 

Of course when I reach the food-y disbursement window I am mocked with a big ass window sticker alerting me to the :30 second service guarantee during, of fucking course, hours other than when I'm actually there.

Ronald can only be bothered with caring about
my time when it's convenient for him.  Noted.
After 12 full minutes Ronald did me the solid of giving me my bag o' fries that had been sitting looking at me through a closed and unattended to window since I had pulled up.  And my drink.  My drink that had ice, which by this point I assumed if I mentioned would result in my incarceration .  And this:

Salt, lemme introduce you to wound.  Wound, Salt.  Salt, Wound.

It literally made me chuckle as I glanced at it driving away.

It was in that flash that my friends words popped in my head and I thought I wouldn't let a man treat me shitty for 5 minutes.  Why am I putting up with less than 'enough' outta this mother fuckin' clown?  And I knew we had to break up.  Yada-yada.  Straw.  Camel.  Back.

It's only been a few weeks.  Like with all break ups I like to concentrate on remembering all of the bad stuff.   Until I reach the point of no longer giving a shit, then I can remember good things.  And embracing the, they're dead to me philosophy I have cultivated over they years to great success.  Look.  I'm a realist.  Sometimes a girl needs an itch scratched.  I can't with any certainty vow that I'll never have a moment where mama just needs a bacon egg cheese biscuit.  But to quote the sage Taylor Swift, we are never getting back together.  Ever.  Fuck off, Ronald.  I hope you'll be happy without me the rest of your red fro'd/enormous shoe'd days. 

Update:  Six weeks Ronald McDonald free.  I hardly think about him at all.  When I do it's only to feel sorry for him. 

Update II:   @ReutersBiz -  McDonald's same-restaurant sales fall more than expected                              #Schadenfreude

 (My ride 'n die homie since 1984)

I'll always have mad love for Grimace.

Related Link:  Buzzfeed 15 Ways You Justify Eating Fast Food


Monday, September 15, 2014

~ We Say We're Anti-Bullying (I Say We Have A Shitty Way Of Showing It)

I've always been an avid people watcher.  An amateur observer of what makes people tick.  This week, thanks to the NFL it's been an interesting week in my lil' personal game of Why People Do What They Do. 

By 'interesting' I mean, fucked up.

Early in the week I found myself mesmerized by the amount of defending a woman punch-er I watched go on, both online and in real life.  It's interesting (both interesting-interesting and fucked up-interesting) that for all of the talk we do of being anti-bully these days that so easily so many people choose to back a literal bully.   A 212 lb., who can bench press 405 lbs., professional athlete, bully.   

But that happened.

More perplexing than the number of guys who decided to be the, sometimes (always?) it's ok to punch a girl in the face, kinda guy, were the girls who decided to be the sometimes (always?) it's ok to punch a girl in the face, kinda girls. 

But that happened too.  And it looked like this:  Female Ravens Fans Defend Rice (Source: USA Today) 
“I’m supporting him all the way around.
I think he’s an awesome guy,
I think he’s an upstanding guy..." 
~ Some chick (USA Today article above)

Clearly, my criteria for the makin's of "an awesome/upstanding guy" does not include a guy with a propensity for battering women.  I can't help but wonder what makes people, but women in particular, in this instance, opt to back a guy when there is actual video proof of his fiancé at the time violent crime?

And don't get me wrong, everyone gets to take any side they want to.  Freewill, baby.  I mean, Charles Manson has supporters and fans.  But honestly?  What type of character is necessary to be the kind of person to back a woman beater?  Or a certain amount of child abuse? 

Yeah, that happened too. (Adrian Peterson [injury to a child arrest])

Now, look.  I'm not the soft on discipline sort.  ...How soft on discipline do you suspect a household run by two Police Officers (one former Marine) growing up was?  I was spanked.  Hell, I'm old enough that you could be spanked in school with a big ass paddle without a parents permission.  There are plenty of schools of thought on spank/don't spank, but those aren't even relevant in this situation.  I mean, whether you agree with it (corporal punishment) or not, when broken skin and scars are involved?  I think we can all agree we've passed the line between discipline and abuse, no?  

While no one has actually uttered, 'Heeeeey, everybody, I support child abuse!', there have been a lot of overtures of;  "well, I had to pick a switch and I'm just fine" sentiments of support and justification for his actions.  ...And again.  My mind is left boggled that people, when faced with a choice of siding with party in a clear aggressor/victim circumstance choose to side with the bully of the scenario.  Especially when the aggressor is a NFL Pro Bowl-er and the other party is a 4 year old.

You keep using that word, I don't think it means what you think it means - You keep using those words 'anti-bullying', I don't think it means what you think it means.

Communally we contend that we are staunchly anti-bullying.  clicks 'like' on the local anti-bullying Facebook initiative That a bigger, stronger, older, more advantaged shouldn't abuse (physically, emotionally, verbally) the smaller, weaker, younger, less advantaged.  That we'd never stand for that and wouldn't condone it.  pins on whatever color the anti-bullying ribbon is   For many, apparently, this means right until an opportunity presents itself to throw support to the bullied (domestic violence/child abuse affected) or to the bully (domestic violence/child abuse perpetrator), and the bully gets selected.   #HumanityFail

As much as I like to attempt to figure out why people do what they do I don't know what makes a person who stands up for bullies tick.  For that I am thankful.

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