Police in Queensland, Australia charged a 64-year-old disabled man for “drink driving” (isn’t the Queen’s English the cutest?) … his wheelchair.
He was found asleep in the middle of the highway with a BAC of .301, which is over six times the legal limit. Traffic was forced to swerve around him.
At news of this poor man’s capture, all this blog can say is finally. Handicapped people get everything, from premium parking to their own Olympics, and we are sick and tired of it.
Sure, it’s sad they can’t walk, but we can’t palm a basketball. Where’s our multi-million-dollar Special NBA contracts? We also can’t roll our tongues when speaking Español, but our speech impediment didn’t get us into any special schools. But we’re digressing.
Point is, it’s about time someone levelled the playing field for those of us who don’t get to sit down all day.
Good morning! And what a morning it is: the dawning of yet another wonderful day!
Just think of the day you have ahead of you: showering, sitting in traffic, going to work, eating a lousy lunch with people you hate, sitting in more traffic, cooking dinner, cleaning the kitchen — all while trying not to beat your children! Goodness, but these are blessed times, aren’t they?
No, they aren’t. When your only relaxation is going to a gym to work out, you really hate the people that make it look so easy. People like, oh, Martha Stewart …
Well, guess who’s persona non gratis in the United Kingdom? Yep, Martha’s life was easy when she was given insider trading tips, but now she’s not allowed to visit investors and business partners in Merry Olde England.
And that, we think, is a good thing.
Mm, Schadenfreude: make it every morning’s shameful joy.
If you’re like most Americans, you have at job. (In some cases, two jobs. Thanks, economy!) The only thing worse than work on a Monday is the process of getting to and from work everyday. Odds are if you live some place people want to live, you’re going to be dealing with plenty of other people hurrying to work.
At my last job, I did not have this problem. I worked five minutes away from my office. It sounds insanely short, but that is what happens when you live and work on an island. You can only drive so far before you either hit a bridge or water. It also came in handy because I worked as a reporter for the local newspaper. When something happened outside of work hours, (breaking news like fires, accidents and elementary school plays) I was there to make sure we got a picture. Continue reading The McBournie Minute: The hazards of mass transit