The One in Which She Just Doesn't Get It

I just don't get it. Not all things, mind you. I consider myself a rational , intelligent individual (despite all evidence to the contrary) - but there are some things I just don't get.

Like this here thing called the Tornado Potato.

Everyone Some of you okay...a few of you know that my most favorite food group in the world is the 'toes group (chee, fri, dori and pota) and I have been known to experience such menu delights as the $20.00 Baked Potato (which was from one of my favorite restaurants in South Florida and consisted of a gigantic baked potato wrapped in crispy bacon and topped with shaved truffles MMMmmmgooood) and I am all about finding the crispy fries in the bottom of the box (called 'wellies' round these parts and any In N' Out Burger restaurant)...but this thing I don't get. Is it a boardwalk treat or a implement of pain? And if you've heard of these things, Tornado Potato's come with toppings like a dusting of 'cheese' or 'schmutz'. Who would want to eat schmutz?? Schmutz (pronounced shmoots as in rhymes with puts not putz) is something you scrape off your shoe or something you'd find under a table at Denny's...certainly not something you'd want to defile your beloved potato with. I guess you could call this thing a potato on a 'schtick' (badump chhh)! Obviously this snack sensation that is sweeping the boardwalks of our coasts was invented by some Carni hawker ...fucking Carnies and their unstructured suede boots. I don't get them either.

And I don't get why motorcycles are allowed to drive between lanes? Also known as lane splitting. In California, motorcycles are allowed to manuever between lanes in slow traffic. The thing is...there is no slow traffic in California. Merging onto one of our heavily congested freeways at 65 miles an hour is hard enough without having dodge Dr. Liposucker and his 'moll' on their $85,000 Harley. Just once, I'd like to spy one of these motorcycles weaving in and out of lanes and just when he's approaching me (that is to assume that I can see the friggin' douchebag in the first place which most of the time I can't )- I wanna open the car door on him and **oops**! If I have to use signals, not pass on the right, keep right except to pass, drive at safe speeds ...so should everyone else.

And you know what else I don't get?? Does every gas station attendant and 7-11 employee have to take a vow that they will always be on the phone? Is it on the application? Who are they talking to anyway?? Are these guys really employees of the gas station or 7-11 or are they actually {insert name of customer service institution here } call center ? "Thank you for calling Dewey, Cheetum and Howe. This is Mujibur, how may I be of service to you today ? and that will be $20 on pump 8 , vwon Qvick pick and a curry shake? ** Not you ma'am, please hold..."

Why does it cost $51.00 to see a kids movie?? We took the girls to see Ice Age 3 the other night. Effin' Fifty One Effin dollars just for tickets. Why? It's 3-d and according to the gum snapper** behind the counter, there is a $3 up-charge for the 3-D!! I don't get it. The movie is made already. The theater has all the equipment to run the 3-d movie already. They ask for the 3-d glasses back at the end of the movie and that's fine 'cuz life is already in 3-d and the dang glasses look goofy and don't block UV rays or else everyone would want to take them home...So what is the upcharge for? The theater is gonna 'gitcha' with $25 in assorted stale popcorn and Raisinettes and water....So what's the $3 per ticket upcharge for??? I just don't get it.

And last in today's rant list of things I just don't get...(and mostly I don't get why I am even wasting my fingertips on this but if one more person asks me if I saw the funeral I am gonna go postal on someone) is this: The dude is dead. He was a talented entertainer for sure. He was a the butt (no pun intended) of every late night talk show joke. A troubled , tortured, acquitted (but guilty?) child molester that nobody wanted to admit knowing a few years ago, he hated himself so much that he did eveything physically that he could to change his appearance.....but a great man?? A great father?? (I wouldn't let my kid spend the night, how about you?) A role model?? A hero?? I don't think so. I just don't get it. And in a state where we are closing schools and giving IOU's to tax payers for their refunds and paychecks...the city of Los Angeles spent over $4 million on police and security thus depleting the city's overtime budget and snarling traffic and pre-empting Oprah and Ellen to televise the flower festooned gold casket. I think the Jackson Family Trust should have to foot the bill for this one, not the taxpayers. That would be the heroic thing to do. And 'we' have to find the person who administered the fatal drug?? Is it so hard to believe that Mr. Jackson (if you're nasty ) survived all these years on a cocktail of various and sundry psycho-active drugs and strong pain killers? Is it possible that he just took the wrong combination of drugs himself - whether or not intentional - as a way to further disconnect himself from his inner 'whose Bad?" Why must it be assumed that something was administered by some less than scrupulous doctor? Gotta find the evil-doer. God forbid we all just go back to thinking he was Whacko-Jacko. Why can't everyone just own up. Okay, so he was and forever will be the King of Pop. And O.J. wasn't guilty either.

But I just don't get it.

**I am in no way implying the pre-requisite for working the register at a 7-11 or a gas station is being of Indian descent, I just call it like I see it...so if I offend anyone - sorry 'bout that . I am an equal opportunity offender. I am implying , however, that every employee of the movie theater is indeed a gum snapper.