There is a little league day at the Orioles game coming up in a few weeks, and the money has to be in for it soon if you want to go, so after my kid’s game last night I figured I’d pay up just so I wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. It proved to be still yet another example of either how I should just never say a word out loud about anything to anyone or how people just don’t get my humor.

I went up to the coach, who was hanging out with a couple moms and a dad, handed over my cash and said, “Here, let me pay for the tickets now before I spend this money on whiskey or crack or something.”

The coach didn’t really hear me. The other dad chuckled nervously. One of the moms I swear gasped, and the other’s mouth dropped open. WTF. Maybe it’s me, but I think these peoples’ reactions were ridiculous. There were no kids around, and it was a funny line! Especially with my impeccably deadpan delivery.

Oh, well. At least I know who not to offer a bump to now.

Some years ago I sent $20 or something the Republican National Committee. I stupidly thought the RNC would use my $20 to support the forces of good in the world. But thinking about it I would have been just as stupid thinking that if I’d have given the Democratic National Committee the money.

Anyway, the RNC has been hounding me for cash ever since. I get letters, phone calls, e-mails, late night visits to my house by men in dark suits who get out of black helicopters, etc. I’ve never given them another dime but they’re never stopped trying to get one out of me.

This election cycle I’ve had it with the RNC. I hate that Ron Paul was completely marginalized by the party and considered a fringe whacko for saying things that were true but not part of the bullshit party line. So during one of the calls from the RNC (whose Caller ID comes back “Unknown” and who never leaves a voicemail, but will try calling every single day, by the way) I told the person on the phone to suck it and take my name off the “do call” list in favor of the “do not call” list.

This worked for a while. Until this week, when the familiar “Unknown” showed back up on the Caller ID and no voicemails were left when I didn’t answer.

I answered this morning and the person on the other end asked if I was me, identified herself as being from the RNC and immediately went into her spiel. As soon as she got to the “Mc” in John McCain, I cut her off and informed her that I’ve already asked to not get these calls anymore and inquired as to why I was no longer on the “do not call” list but was back on the “do call” list. She told me that several organizations are making fund raising calls and that it was probably another one that I asked to put me on the “do not call” list.

I called bullshit and told her that I don’t care who’s calling when they all identify themselves as the Republican National Committee (and all come back as “Unknown” on the Caller ID) and that it was now up to her to make sure that I am on the “do not call” list of all the organizations that raise funds in the name of the RNC and thank you very much.

So now I sit hoping to never get another politcal fund raising call, but certain that when it comes to money no political organization will ever be shameful enough to let some poor shmuck keep his.

—

On a side note, did you know a large national big box retailer had to alter its community grant policy because organizations such as the Lung Association (but not necessarily the Lung Association) would pester every store in the state for a grant, whether the organization had an interest in the community the store was located in or not, and get belligerent with it when the store either didn’t give them one or offered less than the organization wanted? It’s true!

Greed works every which way.

Yesterday evening my kid was outside watering a patch of dirt I’m trying to grow grass on. I was watching him through the kitchen window when two neighborhood kids came up to him. They talked for a second and one of the kids came up to the door to the house and opened it. Then he lost his nerve and closed it. I still walked over to the door to see what was up. When I got there, my kid informed me that Dipshit1 and Dipshit2 wanted popsicles. WTF. These kids didn’t want to hang out with my kid or play with him or anything, but one time a while back the wife gave Disphit1 an ice cream sandwich when he was playing with my kid so now he thinks he and his friends are entitled whenever he wants something from my house.

I told the dipshits that my house isn’t the popsicle stand and told them to get lost. They looked at me like I was nuts and pretended to hang out with my kid until I went back inside. They left within a second of my being out of their sight.

This isn’t the first time that some dipshit kid came over and thought my house is a free grocery store. One of the my kid’s little buddies came over one time and just helped himself to my fridge and pantry and stuff. When I asked him what he was doing he said he was looking for a snack. Again, WTF.

This is a rhetorical question (answer: dipshit parents produce dipshit kids), but when did kids decide it was ok to not have any respect for other peoples’ property? When I was a kid a buddy’s parents would lay me out for going through their stuff. If you wanted a glass of water you asked for it. Nicely. These days, kids treat you like you’re there to serve them.

And the parents. Good Lord. When I told a parent her kid stole my a couple of my kid’s more valuable Yu-Gi-Oh cards a couple years ago she thought it was funny and acted like it was no big deal. Then she got mad at me for banning the thieving little bastard from my house.

Sometimes I feel like I shortchange my kids because I don’t put any effort into making sure they’re making friends or hanging out with other kids or anything. I leave it up their mother because she’s much better socially than I am. But the more I think about it the more I’m coming to believe that I’ve inadvertantly done the right thing by not gritting my teeth and putting up with assholes and their asshole children just so mine could learn the shallow, disgusting, disrespectful ways of their peers. My kids might never be prom king or queen and may never win any popularity contests, but they’ll not have other parents wonder what kind of fucksicle raised them either.