Witz DOESN'T Pick: Nut-Punching Shower, Hipster Cleverness, Tunammunity

Nut-Punching Shower:
I love me some water pressure. I really and truly do. When I get in a shower for the first time, there's always that fear that instead of a solid jet of water, I'm going to be stuck with the spiteful drizzle of low shower pressure. When it comes down to it, I'd always rather have a shower that knocks me on my ass instead of one that acts like the drain is a urinal. BUT-- I am currently in a two week living period with a shower I have come to name Arnie the Nut-Punching Shower. I call it Arnie because that just sounds like the name of someone who would punch you in the nuts. Like, every chance he got-- and he'd still laugh at it, even when everyone else thought the joke was dead. But, like the shower, it also sounds like the kind of guy who means well underneath it all, and you'll keep hanging out with him despite his painful tendencies.

Because lemme tell you, this shower has some painful tendencies. This was me the first day: Whistle whistle whistle, turn on the water, check the temperature, step into the shower and OH GOD! Dodge around, cover up the junk, and do some high steps trying to spread around the punches. Here's how the last three days have gone, every time, without exception: Turn on shower, breath deeply, step boldly into the-- OOPH, cover the junk, adjust and shower with only a few accidental punches let through. Which led to this morning's conversation in my head with Arnie, while I got ready to step into the blast:

ME: How are we this morning, Arnie?
ARNIE: Aw, you know, Mr. Witz, Arnie does alright...
ME: Feeling calm?
ARNIE: Not so much, Mr. Witz.
ME: Well, I appreciate your honesty, but I'm gonna get in the shower now.
ARNIE: I know, Mr. Witz, I know.
ME: And I'd reallly appreciate it if you wouldn't nut-punch me this time...
ARNIE: You know I can't make that promise Mr. Witz...
ME: I know, Arnie, but just this once, I'm keeping my fingers crossed.
ARNIE: I'll do my best.
ME: Ok, I'm stepping in....nooooow-- OOPH-- GODDAMN IT ARNIE!
ARNIE: He-he-he-he-he.

Spoutal abuse.


Hipster Cleverness:
I went to a delicious pizza place last night, which was all well and good except that it was all dark glass on the outside and nice and cozy on the inside. Even though it looked nice, the bartenders were dressed kinda punk and our waiter may or may not have actually worked there. Aside from him being a little off in general, he kept saying he could do stuff like he was doing us a favor and pulling off miracles. Like, we ask if we could carmelized onions on the pizza and he replied, "Uh, yeah, totally, I don't see why not, I mean, we have them, right?" as if he was gonna have to pull some strings with the higher ups, but since he liked us he could probably make that topping happen for us. Odd. Anyway, that has nothing to do with this topic. This topic has to do with their webpage. Because on their webpage they have two words that annoy me-- the first of which is "cakeage."

Instead of "corkage," Little Star Pizza uses "cakeage" as a clever way of saying, "We're going to punish you for it being your birthday." You see, if you bring your own cake to the restaurant (despite the fact that they don't sell cakes), you have to pay $1.50 per person for it. The table next to us actually did bring a cake so I was able to hear the interaction up close. I wasn't even remotely surprised when I heard the guy say that "Cakeage fee is like corkage, get it-- but it's cakeage," and everyone at the table laughed and said how cute it was. Cute like $1.50 x 8. At least it sounds like something a surfer dude would say, as in, "Dude, I'm gonna get some hella cakeage at the birthday party!"

The other thing that the website told me was that you could only make reservations between the hours of 3-5pm. If you left a message any other time, then the "reservationist" would call you back. The "reservationist." Am I crazy or is that a terrible name for a job? It sounds like someone who is either way into having reservations for Native Americans or someone who is WAY against them. Andrew Jackson was the head of The Reservationist Party that ran against The Whig Party in the 1804 election type stuff (ok, since I clearly just wikipedia'd "historical political parties" lemme list some of the other parties I found: The Nullifier Party (aka Ralph Nader), the Readjuster Party (which sounds like it'd help my back out quite a bit), the Anti-Monopoly Party (aka Scrabble Junkies), the Concerned Citizens Party (which made the regular Citizens Party look like chumps), and the New Party (aka the party lacking any and all creativity)). I don't like the fact that the reservationist has such strict rules and guidelines on the webpage. It makes them sound very angry and easily upset. I guess those 2 hours a day of work really weighs on them.

Tuna Community:
It has come to my attention that there is an entire community of people who must eat tuna way too much. I like to refer to these people as the tunammunity, and there's more people involved than you think. When one of my co-workers said that she loved tuna, I assumed that she meant fillets. That's reasonable. Imagine my surprise when I learned that she meant canned. It's ok to like canned tuna, and I do like it myself. But LOVING canned tuna means that you see cats eating and get jealous. Until yesterday, I had filed it away as not my problem. Then I saw something that changed all that. Yesterday, I was introduced to FLAVORED canned tuna. Dried Tomato and Basil to be specific-- and it was in an easily peeled away can. This means that Starkist has an audience of people who WANT more tuna and want more flavors involved with the tuna. They've had so much regular tuna that they need more options without having to give up their precious fish. There is clearly a tunammunity.

So why does this make it my problem? Well, I'll tell you what, it's not just MY problem, it's YOUR problem too. While we've been worrying about recycling and polar bears drowning and global warming as a whole (you know, or not apparently), the Tunammunity has been packing away cans and cans of mercury laden tuna. This means that we're on the verge of having an entire group of people acting absolutely insane with mercury poisoning! Who knows what they'll do? They certainly don't. I imagine it's going to be almost exactly like I Am Legend, only with less Will Smith. WHAT KIND OF WORLD WOULD THAT BE?? It's time to stop this tunammunity for their own good. Stage interventions. Hide the tuna in grocery stores. Write letters to your local politicians, and tell them it's time for action-- even if they are a Reservationist.

I'd Like to Hear Someone Describe Teddy Roosevelt As "One Nut-Punching Reservationist!",
Witz