Some of you may think that this blog is just for entertainment purposes. It's just a little nonsense blog without any real purpose or direction. Right? Well if that's all you think Maggie's Octopus has to offer, then just STEP ASIDE and get ready for today's installment. I bet you'll think twice about slapping a label on me after you read this very educational entry.
No, I'm not going to tell you about some stupid kids' show. I'm not going to talk about Willy Wonka or Betty White or some other legendary historical figure. You can read about them in Social Studies class. Nope, today is much more deep. Today I am going to give you some valuable tips that will help you become a better person, a more responsible citizen, and an overall greater contributor to the human race. So, without further ado, Maggie's Octopus proudly presents:
HOW (not) TO BEHAVE IN A CEMETERY
Yes. That's what it says. How (not) to behave in a cemetery.
Before you turn away and say, "But I already know how to behave in a cemetery," please give me a chance. I think I might have a few things to offer that might not be found in your run of the mill cemetery etiquette handbook. Trust me. Please? I trust you.
So you might be wondering what inspired me to write about this exciting topic. Sure, I know writing about cemeteries is the fashionable thing to do these days, but please believe me when I tell you this is coming from a real place. I'm not just doing it because everybody else is doing it.
Here is a little background information: I live next to a cemetery. Yeah, I know. It kind of sucks and it was a major turn off during the home buying process. However, I have learned to love my quiet neighbors, and to be honest, it is a peaceful site with really nice landscaping. Plus, every so often, I get a free bagpipe concert in my backyard. You can't beat that with a stick!
Anyway, back to the story. So last night, I retired to bed around 11:45, settled down, and started to doze off into Sleepy Town. However, Sleepy Town was soon interrupted by the sound of loud, obnoxious rap music blasting from a car outside. At first I thought it was someone driving in my little neighborhood, but I soon realized it was coming from the cemetery.
I looked out of my window and saw a car parked in the cemetery with its lights on, and the music had to be cranked up to the highest possible level. The song went a little something like this...
FUCK YOU MOTHER FUCKER FUCKING FUCKING DICK BITCH SUCK MY MOTHER FUCKER SUCKING FUCKER ASS BITCH DICK FUCKER DICK FUCKING FUCK
Did I mention it was almost midnight? Um yeah.
Naturally, I peeked out of my window at the car to see what the hell was going on. Actually, I didn't really peek. It was more like me wedging my face in between the tiny crack in the closed blinds. Hey...I didn't want cracked out weirdos who hang out in the cemetery at midnight seeing me creeping on them! You would have done the same thing.
After about five minutes, I had heard about all I wanted to hear and I had enough. I decided to walk outside, storm into the cemetery, and give those hoodlums a piece of my mind.
Raise your hand if you believe me.
OK, now raise your hand if you don't believe me.
Yeah, so clearly I did not go into the cemetery. Fuck that. I know what happens at night in cemeteries. I saw Thriller.
Instead, I decided to do the logical thing and call the police. I called, told the nice dispatcher lady about my concern, and she said she would send some officers over to check it out. At one point she asked me for my name and phone number (in case she had to call back to get an update on the location)...and I'm not gonna lie, people. I almost hung up. I didn't want to give my name!!! What if somehow the cops were connected to the bad guys, and the cops ended up telling the bad guys with the foul rap music MY NAME??? Those bad guys would surely hunt me down and egg my house and slash my tires and turn into werewolves and dance on me. And I certainly did not need that drama in my life.
Unfortunately, with today's technology, I figured the dispatcher lady already had my name and phone number up on a screen even before she asked me...so I bit the bullet and told her the truth. But I didn't give her my last name. Down with the man!
Anyway...the cops came by and broke up the little party in the cemetery. Sadly, the thugs turned off the music before the cops showed up (um...can you say TIP OFF? Yeah. I thought so). I saw bits and pieces of the whole thing (when I wasn't hiding under the bed), and it looked like the cops just drove by slowly and then kept going. Really? What's up with that? I was hoping for some COPS-like take downs, just like on the TV show....where the dudes get dragged out of the car with no shoes, shirts, or teeth, and then a long chase ensues around the cemetery, ideally with Benny Hill music playing in the background.
Alas, none of that happened. The cops just fired a few warning shots in the air and kept on driving. God. My town is so boring.
So maybe that story didn't have the major climax you were hoping for. Sorry. It was just a story about a few morons blasting obnoxious music in a cemetery WAY too late at night. But let's ponder a few things for a second...
What the hell were these jokers doing at a cemetery at midnight? Is that the cool thing to do these days? Party at the cemetery late night? I assume the people were not doing something illegal like selling/buying drugs or vandalizing gravestones...I mean, when I do shit like that I always turn my headlights and radio down first. Otherwise I'm just asking to get caught.
So were they visiting a dead friend? I suppose that is possible. But at midnight? And what's up with the music? Dudes...I'm sorry to break it to you. But no matter how loudly you blast your music, YOUR FRIEND CAN'T HEAR IT. I know it hurts. But it's true. Plus, if your friend actually liked that shitty music, he deserves to be dead. Hey. The truth hurts.
One quick thing about the music: I thought long and hard about this, and if the music was not so obnoxiously bad, I probably would have refrained from calling the police. Come to think of it, I might have even been entertained. Just think about it for a second...imagine you are cuddled up in bed, when all of a sudden you hear music BLASTING from a car in the cemetery. Yeah, sure...you might be pissed. But imagine if the music coming from the car was...
...Anne Murray?
OR
...Kenny G?
OR
...a book on tape?
That is the kind of weird shit that would make me stand up and applaud! Can you imagine being in bed and suddenly hearing Frog and Toad Are Friends at 10000 decibels? I wouldn't call the cops on those kids...I would call and have a pizza delivered to them.
Unfortunately, nothing like that ever happens to me. My life is such a letdown.
xoxo
OR
ReplyDelete...the theme to Beverly Hills Cop?
Touché, young grasshopper.
ReplyDeleteoh, how i love frog and toad! i used to have the frog and toad books at my grandmother's house, and i loved sleeping over there because i got to read them. maybe you should write a new frog and toad book. frog and toad are gay. and they can get married. finally.
ReplyDelete