I see you, asshole!

I'm pissed.

Usually I have something to rant about. Today, I'm pissed because I don't.

I can't rant about the weather. It's supposed to be 65 today. In Kentucky. In JANUARY!!!

I can't rant about work. Besides it not being professional—says the 34 year old wearing neon green and yellow tennis shoes—too many people I work with, follow me here. Including somebody in HR. I don't want this ending up in my permanent record. I'll wait for my exit interview to show up not wearing pants and ranting about X, Y & Z. (I'm not planning on having this interview any time in the near future, please take note HR.)

I can't rant about Oasis, because as far as I know, both of the Gallagher's new bands flopped. I should actually crack open a bottle.

I could rant about how my mother in-law tried to poison me twice last week—once with a jar of 8 year old expired salsa and once with a 1 year old expired mayo based salad dressing—and how she gave me a pair of women's socks for Christmas and THAT'S ABOUT IT! But an entire post about that would just be too much.

I can't rant about the 1996 Jeep Cherokee. It seems to be running fine. I say this and this afternoon, it will probably explode. (If you like to gamble, the odds are currently 7 to 1 on this happening today, place your bet by posting in the comments section. This actually gives me the idea to start a Jeep Cherokee Death Pool. Everybody pick a month.)

I can't rant about the 7 gas leaks they found in my house this week. Usually this would have cost me hundreds. But the city fixed it for free? What the hell?

I can't rant about taxes, money or politics. That's not the purpose of this blog, nor do I have an interest in wasting my time with bullshit. I'd rather talk about how the morbidly obese person in line behind me this morning ordered two double ham & cheese omelets. Better yet, she ordered it from a chef in a Humana building. That's right. A HEALTHCARE COMPANY serves it's morbidly obese, we're talking 400+ pounds, double cheese and double ham omelets.

I can't rant about how my dog likes to eat cat shit. This actually saves me money. It means one more day I don't have to scoop the box.

I can't rant about what I did or didn't get for Christmas. That's just petty.

I can't rant about Zimmer & Kohl. Because their BBB rating has dropped like a stone and more pissed off customers are posting on Google places about how shitty they are. Huzzah!

I can't rant about music. I've found some great new stuff this week—Mansions, The One AM Radio and a crazy, overlooked Junior Kimbrough record.

So what I can rant about is not having anything to rant about. Usually these little rants are what gets me fired up, inspired and helps me get through the day. It also allows me to poke fun at how stupid we are as humans. Stupid enough to post an entoire blog entry about not having anything to rant about.