Crap No-one Needs, #13

Joke Ties

We've all seen them, and some of us have received them as gag Christmas gifts. They're those novelty ties with humorous images of sheep copulating, or naked girls, or hamsters fellating each other. The exact details don't matter - they're always a variation on the theme of "joke sex". What they all have in common is that you may as well toss them straight in the trash because you'll never wear them.

Let's face it, in these "business casual" times, on the rare occasion most of us have to wear a tie it's because the situation is important. In a business context it means a meeting with an important client, or maybe a photo opportunity for a trade publication, neither of which really call out for a tie with the image of a cartoon pig humping another cartoon pig with the caption "makin' bacon" emblazoned underneath.

If it's a personal occasion the chances are that someone just died. Nothing says "whatever, people die all the time" like a joke tie with naked women on it. Who buys all these fucking things? I can understand the occasional joke gift but that surely can't account for the sheer number of these crappy accessories sold every year.

Remember: nothing says "I am a colossal horse's arse" like a novelty tie. Except, perhaps, a big neon sign which reads "I am a colossal horse's arse". You know what I mean...

Crap No-one Needs, #12

The St.Louis Rams

When I moved to St.Louis the Rams were going through their Tony Banks phase and comprehensively sucked arse; I didn't count myself a fan. Likewise, when they became the "greatest show on turf" I didn't suddenly become a fan - to be a real fan you have to suffer through the crap years and not just show up when a team starts winning. Nevertheless St.Louis is my home town now and I always liked to see the Rams do well. But Leonard Little changed that.

It's not enough that he killed a woman while driving drunk and got off with a slap on the wrist, but he got stopped again drinking and driving, and this time got off on a technicality. You'd think that killing someone might ensure that you thought twice before driving drunk again, but apparently not. So what did the no-class Rams organization do? Did they cut this shitbag? No, they rallied around like he was some sort of victim and he kept his multi-million dollar paycheck. And no-one mentions that he killed someone's mother anymore.

Let's put this in perspective - Michael Vick, the ex-Atlanta quarterback, is in jail for killing some dogs. He might never play again. The PETA brigade would have him stoned to death in the street if they got the chance. Where the fuck were all these outraged people when a human being was killed? As far as I'm concerned the Rams can go 0-16 this year, and fuck right off.

Fringe Benefits

While I was out buying a parakeet yesterday, Mrs Bison was busy getting her hair cut. She seems to have immense difficulty finding someone she can use repeatedly who won't fuck it up, and this time she tried yet another different hairdresser, in the mall. The haircut looks fine, but apparently the Russian girl who cut it was rough, unfriendly and seemingly uninterested in knowing what the customer wanted before she started.

Worse than that, she had very large breasts in a low cut top and kept shoving them in my wife's face every time she leaned over her. You know, come to think of it, my hair's getting a bit long too...

Watch What You Pay

It's a well-established law of life that stuff breaks just when it is least convenient. For instance shoe laces only break when you're rushing to leave the house for some important meeting, and when you have no idea where the replacement laces (that you bought a year ago for this very eventuality) are now located. Since I had only a short time at home this weekend between returning from one business trip and leaving for another, it only stands to reason that my (one and only) watch should choose this moment to stop working.

It didn't exactly stop - it just started telling weird time, a good sign that the battery was giving up the ghost. So this necessitated a trip to the mall and the crappy kiosk which replaces batteries.

I was prevented from approaching the spotty kid at the kiosk by an Indian family who had got there just ahead of me, along with a collection of about fifteen watches that the father seemed undecided what he wanted to do with. "Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off" I was thinking, as my miniscule weekend drained away. Eventually I got to the desk and asked the kid how long it would take. About 25 minutes was the response. The cost? "Twenty five dollars, which includes a five year guarantee."

Something made me suspicious that there was a better price available.
"Is that the only option?"
"You can have it done for $14.99 but that only has a one year guarantee. For the five year we replace the seal and do testing, otherwise it will void your warranty from Guess."
Note that my Guess watch must be ten years old and I'm sure it didn't cost $50 even then. I'm not even sure it had a warranty, but it must have expired long ago. I looked at the kid.
"I bet it's the same battery in each case, right?"
"Yes the battery is the same."
"So it clearly can last five years - why would I pay more for the five year guarantee?"
"After a year you can bring it back if it stops working."
Stupid bastard.
"Just do the one year version, OK?"

It's bad enough paying $14.99 for a battery that costs about $1 to be installed, but needs must when you're short of time. The higher price is pure scam though, and I hate people that try to rip you off. Wankers.