The Fearsome Sir Focus

Soooo... I got into a chicken fight my seat belt alarm today. Because it's repetitive high dingy noises drive me to the brink of insanity, I usually only have to hear it once to force my compliance, but today my friends I looked that little bugger right in the eye and sat firm as I drove across a VERY BIG parking lot to my next stop. I made it 5 whole series of increasingly alarming dings & pings....

 Sadly, this is not a story of victory for the underdog. I lost this battle of wills with my little focus and could be seen by Starbucks patrons clumsily buckling my seat belt as I was PULLING INTO my parking spot.

I tip my hat to you Sir Focus...you have bested me yet again.

The Disenfranchised Right Hand

I always feel a twinge of liberal guilt for my Right Hand.
 

It leads the life of a red-headed step child...disenfranchised, left out in the cold doing menial tasks like steering the car in winter, click click clicking away on the mouse in a drafty library (oh..okay..drafty starbucks) and frantically scribbling class notes. All the while Lefty lives in the lap of luxury swaddled in a coat pocket o...r tucked up fast asleep in a sweater sleeve. Even their names signify their lots in life: the ever stoic "Right Hand" and the jauntily name "Lefty".

Will there ever been an end to the Social Injustice....

RISE UP Right Hands! Rename yourselves things like "Right-io" and "Right On" and Occupy Pockets, Fur Muffs and Hobo gloves EVERYWHERE!!

We are the 1%...ummm rather...We are the 50%. unless you've had an unfortunate weed whacker incident in which case Right-io....I'm sorry to say, but you're on your own.