And I Shall Dub Thee...Smarmalade

According to the Urban Dictionary, which translates urban hipster slang into laymen's terms (such a great waste of time!!!) - the definition for the word smarmy is the following:

Smarmy: generally the stereotype of the greasy, unwanted people that hit on any given person (typically in a bar setting):
1. Oh my god, that guy that just offered to buy me a drink is so SMARMY!2. That guy that said, "Do you want fries with that shake, baby?" is smarmy.

I would like to offer a variation on the word smarmy, if I may - I heard it from my friend Sarah while sitting in a crowded (and flooded; more on that later...) bar in DC. Stemming from the root word smarmy - the new word is smarmalade - say it with me now - that's smar-ma-lade (rhymes with marmalade - that preserve the Brits spread on toast - consult Paddington Bear for more info) and the word is perrrfecct to describe the liquored up bastards that troll around the bars, never noticing the obvious back turning that follows their seedy sexual advances.

The DC bars have become thick with smarmalade...actually, it's not so much that they've suddenly become like this, they sort of always have been. Federal City attracts a disproportionate amount of smarmy bar folk who strike up "whitty" conversation with other patrons who couldn't be the least bit interested...in fact, they're mostly frightened and want to go back to their friendly conversations, but the smarmy fellow is not to be disuaded. Through their smarmalade stained beer goggles they lean in just a bit too close, precariously positioned at the edge of a bar stool; sweat and alcohol drifting from their pores and slurs flying out of their mouths - the eyes of those in the immediate area dart around, looking for an escape from the smarmalade. Perhaps a trip to the bar for another drink, or a sprint to the bathroom.

I discovered this weekend that there is one - and only one way to effectively get rid of smarmalade, and that is to bring the offender ever closer...and head butt them. This is what's known as the Primo effect...and, well...it's quite effective. So the next time you find yourself in this awkward position, know that smarmalade is a simply a fact of having a social life in DC and for you smarmy gentleman, if you wake up with a pounding headache, it's probably not from the jager shots.

Garbage Gripes

I was just thinking about the pros and cons of living out in the suburbs of DC instead of the actual city. I came up with a lot of reasons why I miss DC, mostly relating to the ease in which I was able to stumble home from the bar when it suited me...

When I decided to migrate to the 'burbs, I had assumed that domestic activities (logistics) would be easier. For instance, I never have to fight for a parking space on my street, there's always a spot right in front of my house...glorious! I had also assumed that garbage pickup would be a breeze - that all the trash and refuse from the week would be magically whisked away in a clean and timely manner. On this point, I was dead wrong.

Let me start off by saying that Montgomery County has some of the pickiest trash collectors i've ever dealt with. I figured if I (or my housemates as the case has been lately) are responsible enough to get the trash out to the curb on time; the garbage collectors would hold up their end of the bargain and haul it away. Then came the first notice...

Affixed to the garbage can one morning was a huge orange sticker stating that our trash can was too heavy to empty. On a seperate occasion, there were too many cans in our recycling bin and it was left out in the street to greet us when we arrived home...still full of cans. Maybe this is protocol around here, but i've never seen anything like it. I can understand if we were trying to throw away appliances, or dangerous items...but this is just normal trash!

I'm researching this matter further, and I came across a website dedicated to the "do's and dont's" of trash removal for Montgomery County; here's my favorite example:

"Unacceptable Materials include: human or animal fecal or uriniferous matter, infectious wastes, dead animals"

Note: Uriniferous is my new favorite word - and funny enough, they never refused to pick up the steaming piles of dog crap that we lovingly placed at the bottom of the trash bags.

Anyhow, I guess the point of this whole rant is the fact that now the garbage disposal companies are looking to disrupt normal pickups because of the rising cost in diesal fuel. Rising fuel prices is something I can certainly understand, but I honestly don't know what we're going to do with all this trash that they're not going to collect. They only pick up about half of it as it is.

Now, if we could just find a way to convert the steaming piles of dog crap into a renewable source of fuel for these folks, maybe all our problems would be solved. I'll just go ahead and consult Al Gore on this matter.

Rock Creek Parkway = Bermuda Triangle

The Bermuda Triangle - a paranormal site in which the known laws of physics are violated and altered.

Rock Creek Parkway - A winding mass of two lane roads in which all electronic systems in my Jeep fail and inexplicable torential downpours (with the top down) ensue.

Don't get me wrong, I love Rock Creek Parkway, it shaves a comfortable 20 min. off of my morning commute from Silver Spring into Rosslyn. Lately though, some strange things have been happening while passing through...allow me to explain:

Monday morning approx. 7:20am - Shortly after entering Rock Creek Park, both my speedometer and tachometer mysteriously stop working. Upon exiting the Park and heading into VA, all systems return to normal.

Monday evening approx. 6:15pm - Leave work without windows zipped up. Torrential downpour begins at the approx. time that I enter the Park. Jeep becomes a dripping mass of stenchy wetness. Flood lights inexplicably turn on and off without switch being pushed. After exiting the Park, all systems return to normal.

Tuesday & Wednesday - Decide to save money and take metro to work.

Wednesday evening approx. 8:30pm - While on my way to meet up with friends in Chevy Chase, the radio suddenly looses all power and cuts out when approaching the Park. Radio power and signal return after leaving the area.

(Insert freaky "Unsolved Mysteries" music here)

If I should happen to dissapear in the next couple of days, you know where to start looking for me!