Stew Miller Musings and Rants
I Complain (Oh, and Doodle), You Read and/or Comment, Everyone is Happy… IT’S SO SIMPLE!

Stupid is as stupid… IS!

   Now I’m not one to poke fun at the misfortunes of others and use other’s foibles and idiosyncrasies  for my own salacious purposes (HA), but, I just have to be perfectly blunt right now and scramble atop my soap-box and proclaim for all to hear that: PEOPLE ARE STUPID! Not any one specific person, mind you, just the collective ‘people’ being the ones who are less intelligent than a cup of Kool-Aid. I have lost gobs of faith in my fellow human due entirely to the fact that I have been privy to far too much ignorance in and around my general location. And now, I shall cite several examples so you, the reader, can feel my anguish. Suffer the little children…

I have to begin this paragraph with a bit of a sidebar. I suppose had I not been at the following location at the specific time to be later stated, I would not have been as completely taken aback by the cornucopia of ineptitude that I was. That being said, I brought this whole thing on myself, in a manner of speaking. However, albeit entirely necessary to be within the lair of the dumb asses, I still feel as though I should have been able to avoid them. Dateline Sunday, February 25th, eight in the morning. Setting: Meijer. There I was on a mission to acquire a few pieces of craft-creating items for the kids (Styrofoam, glue, BB gun) and some donuts for breakfast. All seemed to be going according to plan: locate, purchase, evacuate. Then things started to fall apart more rapidly then Britney Spears’ career. As I scanned the art supply aisle for the items on my list, I allowed my eyes to wander down the row toward a clerk performing what one could only assume was her ‘duties.’ She held her price gun in front of her (it was the bar-code reading style) and was inputting whatever top secret information the scanned object had told her to. She looked pretty standard, so I continued my hunt for the foam balls the boys so desperately wanted. It’s a craft thing… shut up. But, alas, the illusive products were nowhere to be seen. I had to ask the clerk. I approached, not yet fully engaged in full conversation mode when I saw her doing something so imperceptibly moronic I actually stopped for a second and rethought my advance. She was scanning her face, eyes, and tongue. Now I’m pretty certain a fun toy such as this price check Glock has a bit of a curiosity quotient attached to it, and I’m also relatively sure that someone else somewhere has done the exact same thing, but the simple fact that I witnessed it makes it tops on my stupidity list. I was, obviously, in no mood to spoil this woman’s fun by subjecting myself to the uncomfortable moment that was sure to occur, so I moved on and asked somebody else about the ball location. Best to leave well enough alone.

Since I could, realistically, write on and on about the encounters with the asinine  I’ve had lately, I’ll just limit this particular entry to one more. Believe me, there will be sequels a plenty.  Anyone who doesn’t have Caller ID on the phone is missing out on some serious hi-jinx. We here at home get a plethora of calls daily running the gamut from telemarketers to politicians. Normally I just check the ID and generally let the machine get it if it looks like someone I’d just as soon clobber with a stick. Even so, there are those times where, either out of curiosity or necessity, when I need to answer a number I am unsure about. For a while there was a bank calling called HSBC. Now, I had never heard of this financial institution at all let alone had any interest (get it?) in them for any purpose. Regardless, they called  many times a day and each and every time I would let the machine pick it up and each and every time the message would be, “Hello? Ms. Miller? Hello? *CLICK*” That would be it, no following information, no name, no nothing. Finally, just out of sheer irritation, I answered. The voice on the other end said, “Hello? Is *garblegook* Miller there?” I actually removed the set from my ear and looked at it I was so astounded (like someone was going to exit the receiver and wave at me). I said, “Who?” She responded, “Is *grakleglug* Miller there?” Oh, I failed to mention that this woman was so deeply foreign her last name was Punchline. I asked. I said, “I’m so sorry but unless you can be more specific with a name I can’t help you and besides, STOP F***ING CALLING ME!” I was very loud. HSBC has yet to call back. I can’t imagine why.

There you go. A duo of dummies. Two people I have never met personally in my life who could be, for all intents and purposes, the stupidest people on Earth at this particular moment. It doesn’t take much in my book. It’s a long book.



3 Responses to “Stupid is as stupid… IS!”

  1. Uhhhhhhh… I don’t get it…

    Duuuhhhh, drool, slobber…

  2. Just the other day I saw a very fat and chunks 11year old girl wearing a 3 sizes to small t-shirt that read “you don’t know my name, but your boyfriend does”. I was truly quite amazed at what lengths people go to be that stupid as well as being wardrobe illiterate.

  3. “Setting: Meijer” That about covers it, Stewbernator. I swear that simply pulling into the parking lot of Meijer my IQ, which isn’t much to begin with, drops ten points which is a rather major drop considering that by the time I walk into Meijer my brain starts thinking, “Where can I find a UPC scanner… I think an alien beamed me up and I have some weird transmitter somewhere in my bowel that is sure to obstruct a nice BM later in the day.”

    Stupid is as stupid…IS!… is… a pretty decent title for a book on the subject. Need a chapter? Spend some time talking about the people who never use turn signals… What the hell… I mean seriously… what the HELL! Perhaps in smaller towns or cities people can get away with it. Two – three cars on the road are unlikely going to go in the exact same direction after all… but in Detroit where there are 3-4 million people on the roads during rush hour… at the same freaking time… WE NEED THOSE FLASHING LIGHTS to keep us awake. If nothing else these lights, “dink dink… dink dink…,” remind me that when the driver makes a lane change inside of two feet from their turn I need to yell, “_uck you… _uck you…”

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