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Blowing Hot Air

Just in case you live under a rock and missed The Weather Channel’s overly dramatic hurricane Florence coverage, here it is.   The hurricane had devastating effects in some areas; by no means am I belittling that or trying to play that down. However, this meteorologist’s sad performance devalues those who have taken some real falls, on live TV, for the sake of the story, like this weatherman getting swept away by hurricane Sandy, this reporter hit by a donkey, or this oldie but goodie, the news reporter being hit with a skateboard.

To be fair, weather forecasters have been doing this for decades.  Expecting a dusting of snow?  Amp it up, turn it into all-day coverage, and stick your ruler into snow drifts… even if your crew has to shovel an ever-growing perimeter for hours to create a mountain mole-hill of snow for your epic broadcast.

After all, it’s well known that the weathermen (and presumably weatherwomen) are notorious stock holders in bread and toilet paper companies; when they are feeling a little light in the wallets, they pour it on for their viewers prompting the Grocery Snow Dash.  Never mind the obvious; if people weren’t eating all that bread, they wouldn’t need all the toilet paper. Hey, I’m just saying.

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Abandonment Issues

Okay, I know I’ve been quiet the past few days – the only excuse I have is, it’s been a bit chaotic on my side of the world. As excuses go, that one’s not too shabby. But have no fear, you’ll soon be regaled with the craziness that is my life. Lucky you! In the meantime, I thought I would leave you with a rant. I haven’t ranted in a while, so face it, we’re due.

I have to say that every now and then, something comes along that makes me wonder if humans are truly the most evolved species, as experts claim.    Take this incident, for example … dogs abandoned on the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere, by their despicable owner.

This hurts my heart on so many levels.  Those dogs are terrified, and looking to their owner for direction.  You can see the confusion in their eyes when she leaves them.  How heartless do you have to be to take an innocent animal who depends on you and dump them on the side of the road?

The look on the woman’s face speaks volumes about her personally.  She doesn’t have an ounce of regret in her expression.  The only thing she regrets, I’m sure, is being caught by the Good Samaritan.

Was it a boyfriend, making her choose between the dogs and himself?  Sorry, sir, you would lose that gamble every time if it was me. Maybe she just got tired of caring for them or couldn’t afford to feed them any longer.  Was she too proud to take them to the shelter?  How did she think leaving them on the side of the road was any better?

I find it interesting that she took one of the dogs to the local shelter after she had dumped them.  I’d like to think she had a twinge of conscience, a moment of humanity, or a sense of guilt and went back to find them.

More likely, though, she probably was afraid that she would be caught and punished for her thoughtless, selfish behavior if she didn’t turn herself in voluntarily.  I am not sure anything close to a soul exists in someone who would do this. Quite frankly, I also blame the driver … not as much as the owner, mind, but still. How could they witness what was happening and say nothing, do nothing?

If it sounds like I’m being harsh, well, yeah, I am.

I can’t imagine living in a world where people leave babies in dumpsters, kill each other because one driver cut off another on the freeway, and abandon animals.  This is not the world I want to wake up to.  Every morning I turn on the news, open social media, or listen to a morning show on the radio hoping that the day before would be free of atrocity and heartbreak.

And every morning, I am thoroughly disappointed.

I find comfort in the fact that two out of four of these dogs have already found forever homes, and I know the other two will as well.  But I wonder if they ever miss the woman who abandoned them.  I wonder if they watch for her out of the window, tails wagging, hoping to see her car pull up in the driveway of the place they now consider home. Or maybe they realize all too well they’re better off now, without her.

Mostly, though, I wonder if the woman who dumped them like so much garbage at a dead-end, on a cloudy, grey day feels regret, and I wonder if she ever replays the moment when she closed the car door and saw them looking at her in fear, confusion, and expectation before she left them.

I hope she does, and I hope it haunts her dreams.

Because it sure as hell haunts mine.

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When Aragogs Attack!

I recently read a news story about an incident in Australia that sent shivers down my spine.  It wasn’t a “new” news story, but it was certainly news to me. Police in Sydney were flooded with calls from concerned neighbors who heard what sounded like a tremendous domestic dispute.  They reported and a man shrieking, “I’m going to kill you.  You’re dead. Die!  Die!” All of this was accompanied by the sounds of crashing furniture and things being smashed. It sounded as though someone was…well, being killed.

That, however, is not what terrified me. I mean, hell, I see that every day on Law and Order: Criminal Intent. It’s what the police found when they arrived. A distraught man who was out of breath and quite flushed opened the door. The police demanded, “Where’s your wife?” He told them that he wasn’t married.  “Then, where’s your girlfriend?” He told them that he didn’t have one.  “The neighbors told us they heard a woman screaming in here.”  The man confessed, “That was me.  I was screaming.”

click for story

After inspecting the home, the police came out and explained what was going on to the to the concerned neighbors. “It was a spider,” they said. “A really, really big one.  And he really, really hates spiders.” The terrified man had been chasing the large spider around, trying to hit it with insect spray, knocking over tables and shelves in the process. He was definitely an arachnophobe. I mean, he is in Australia after all. I think they have more man-killing spiders per capita than anywhere else in the world. Australia definitely produces their fair share of “WTF, stay away from me!” kind of animals.

I am not an arachnophobe.  Nor am I an arachnophile.  I’m arachno-neutral. Or at least, I was. Till along came the Huntsman spider – which I believe was the culprit in the above-mentioned terror-filled story.  Now here is the part of the story that truly reminds me of some of those B-horror movies I love so much and what scared me the most about this story. Huntsman spiders can grow to have a leg span of almost one foot. They are ugly creatures.  I mean, I’m sorry, I feel for the poor things, but yeah, they’re not cute. They bite, but only if provoked…which I for one am thankful for — AND they don’t fly, thank whatever God was put in charge of creating spiders. People in Australia have taken to calling them Aragogs, the deadly spiders of Harry Potter fame. You can’t really blame them. If I woke up to find this thing in my house, I think I’d be calling it some names too…though perhaps not such a literary one.

When I first read about the poor man in Sydney who woke the neighbors, I got a good laugh from it. But then, after a little visualization, I decided that maybe it wasn’t quite so funny after all.  Imagine walking into your kitchen and finding a fuzzy creature the size of a dinner plate walking across your counter top, and you don’t own a cat (or at least not one with 8 legs). I’m quite sure the neighbors would hear me. Hell, I think the residents of the adjacent states would hear me. So, yeah. Bless the citizens of Australia because if this is the shit they have to deal with, they deserve our awe and our admiration.

Although I do sort of feel sorry for the poor spider…I mean, can you imagine just going about your spider-y life, then mistakenly wandering into the wrong house (I mean, come on! Who hasn’t done that after a full night of carousing and drinking!?) and then having some lunatic chase you around trying to smash furniture over  your head?

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You Want Picante?? I’ll Give You Picante!!

I saw this on the newswire the other day, and be forewarned, it’s old…it was just something that popped up as a stupid meme and after researching, I found that it was indeed true: “Woman stabs boyfriend over salsa, say Akron police.” What?  She didn’t like Latin music? After reading several different articles on this incident, I found out that the story was even more ridiculous – more ridiculous than hating a sassy, sexy dance, you say? Why yes, that is exactly what I’m saying. This woman exploded into a murderous rage when she discovered that her boyfriend had eaten all the salsa they had on hand. Salsa. As in the condiment. The nerve of him!

Apparently blinded with anger at the thought of having no salsa picante to put on her cheeseburger, she grabbed a pen and started stabbing the boyfriend.  Not happy with the results from the writing instrument, she proceeded to knock the guy’s t.v. over (I have absolutely no idea what his t.v. had to do with anything) and after retrieving a knife from the kitchen, tried to finish the job the pen had started. After the “salsa savagery” was done, she fled, but was pulled over by police after a somewhat brief car chase. The boyfriend was expected to live and presumably has no dietary restrictions going forward.

My first thought was, “What the hell is wrong with people?”  That was my second and third thought too.  Maybe she would have had an excuse if he’d eaten all of their foraged truffle-essence quiche or their Coquilles St. Jacques. But salsa? Really? I mean, I guess I could understand if it was some kick-ass homemade salsa. You know, the kind you can’t find in your neighborhood grocery store or say, the 7-11 on the corner. Understanding is one thing, but I just want to make it clear, I still don’t condone food-related violence. Even if someone who shall remain nameless did steal the last bit of my Haas-Gooey Cake.

Anyhow, the woman in question told the police that the reason she stabbed him was because she “wanted to leave.” However, I’m thinking there has to be more. Right? I mean, there just has to be. A person doesn’t just snap over salsa. Do they? Maybe she had been salsa-deprived as a child. Maybe his finishing off the salsa was just the straw that broke the camel’s back in their relationship. But still, good grief! Leaving with her toothbrush after throwing his in the toilet would have been much better, and she wouldn’t be facing felonious assault charges.

Sadly, there are plenty of examples of stupidity out there in the world. A Utah man was convinced that his girlfriend was causing his headaches, so he shot her. She lived.  He’s still getting headaches in prison. Go figure. No-one ever said the guy was bright. Two ex-cons in Florida brought home a woman from a bar for an evening of “fun.” During the troika tryst, one of the cons shouted “Switch!” The other con didn’t want to, so he stabbed his buddy. You really need to be careful about picking and choosing your ménage à trois partners before doing the deed. Maybe set out some rules or sign a contract or something. You know, just to keep the stabbing down to a minimum.

But going back to the salsa lady…I don’t know if the boyfriend knew that running out of salsa was his girlfriend’s flash point, but seriously, should he have?? I mean, you’d think the guy would know just how strongly she felt about her condiments. Still, it seems like an awful lot of responsibility for one person to bear – eat this salsa and be stabbed or not eat the salsa and be deprived of some kick-ass salsa? What do I do, what do I do!?

I think, just to be on the safe side, I’m gonna start asking for extra packets of salsa when I go to Taco Bell to keep in my kitchen junk drawer… just in case something like this should ever befall me. I can use them to fend off any salsa-crazed zombies that infiltrate my house by throwing them as I back out of the kitchen to safety: “there! there! there is your salsa, you salsa-crazed zombie!” And all will be right with the world once more.

 

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Close Encounters

Have you ever been out in public and you see someone acting or looking really weird, yet also notice that they have on a wedding ring? That guy who walks down the street in a kilt talking to a cockatoo perched on his shoulder? Wedding ring. Okay, that may be a bad example – a kilt AND a cockatoo?  That’s my kinda guy.

But what about the man in khaki shorts who wears black knee socks with his sandals and still rocks a phone clip on his belt? Wedding ring. Or the woman tap dancing on the street corner every morning wearing a chicken costume? Wedding ring.

The old adage holds true — there’s someone for everyone. Odd as it may seem, no matter how unhinged a person might be, there’s another person out there in the world who says, “Yes. I will sign up for that. That is my person right there. They’re perfect.”

Which is good news for the woman in Australia who claims not only to regularly visit alien friends she’s made over the years, but who also has apparently become half-alien herself. Yes, you read all that correctly.

Meet Judy Carroll. She claims to pal around with aliens known in pop culture as the “Greys”—and who happen to look exactly like the aliens depicted in Hollywood movies and TV shows for the past three decades—so often that when they abduct her for hangout sessions she now describes their visits as ‘normal.’

In fact, she likes being with them so much that she ‘upgraded’ her DNA to include some of their genetic material. Although to be fair, she made that decision before she was born, so you know. Kids these days. They’re just crazy, aren’t they?

Thankfully, I guess, her husband supports her in her claims. I’ll be honest. When the article mentioned that she’s married, that’s when my brain really went off the deep end. And my brain doesn’t take that leap easily because I take pills for that shit.

I admit that it baffled me that someone who has such a…hmm, what’s a safe word to use here…different view of reality than I do — yeah, that’s good — has a life partner adamantly standing by her side. But then again, I know nothing about this man. Perhaps he’s been a firm believer of alien visitation since he was a teenager. Who knows? There are massive alien conventions held all over the world with thousands in attendance so it’s not like Judy is the only woman in the world who thinks Greys treat our planet like a Meetup group.

I was also a little tripped up about the half-alien blood mingling thing. In the article, she states that she underwent the transfusion because she “believes she had made the choice to be half-alien before she was born.” Prometheus theories notwithstanding, how does one even go about that?

Of course, her choice doesn’t come without a cost – Mrs. Carroll stated she has suffered health issues (a tight jaw??) due to her half-alien lineage. I know, I know, I wondered too. Apparently, Greys don’t have movable jaws. There. That’s something you know now.

Regardless of all the huge holes I see in this woman’s story, I have to admit that, whether she’s crazy or not, she definitely looks happy. And why not? She’s making good money off the books she’s selling about the crazy shenanigans she and the Greys get into. She’s got a family that supports her, a husband that loves her. So, I say good for you, Judy! Way to have a positive outlook, despite what others may say (myself included). We should all be so many Judys.

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Dress for Warm Weather

Is it me, or are we going to hell in that handbasket a lot faster than originally thought?  I mean, who does this kind of thing?  What the hell is wrong with people? And why does it seem like there are more and more news stories just as crazy as this one making an appearance every day? Oh yeah, for society as a whole, I’d definitely suggest packing for a warmer climate. It won’t be long before we’re all on that whirlwind tour down south…way south.

 

The headline says it all, but feel free to click the pic for the news story.

The headline says it all, but feel free to click the pic for the news story.

 

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Hind Sight

I saw the below picture prior to reading the so-called article (which is fake, by the way) and couldn’t help but immediately ask: whose eyeballs!?  Are they human? Are they snake eyeballs…or maybe chicken, or what? Then I thought, nooo, they have to be glass eyeballs – like maybe the guy worked at a marble factory or something and the writer meant those nifty cat-eye shooters or perhaps he works for a medical office and couldn’t resist the pretty little glass eyes that would look oh-so-perfect in his creepy little home-made dolls that somehow look just like his old school chums – because no one in their right mind would do something as crazy as stuff real flesh and blood eyeballs into his anal cavity, right? Right!? Come on, work with me here people.

I had no doubt that IF such a thing were true, copious amounts of alcohol would somehow be involved (it sort of goes without saying), so it would truly be anyone’s guess as to the origins of said eyeballs.  And really…does it even matter?  That was the crux of the rapid-fire internal discourse that bounced wildly around in my head. Oh yes, I know it may seem like it would be worse if they were in fact human eyeballs and certainly no-one, least of all me, wants to contemplate the idea that there may be a serial killer out in the world who steals eyeballs to use as anal beads – which sounds like a great plot for a gruesome B-horror movie if you ask me.  But seriously, if you have the mindset to stuff eyeballs of any sort into your anal cavity to begin with, isn’t one eyeball as good bad as another?

As it happens, they were bovine eyeballs. But that’s really inconsequential in my mind. It’s the act that fascinates me most of all.  I mean, who wakes up and thinks: “When I go to work today, I’m going to steal eyeballs, and I’m not just going to walk out of there with those lovely orbs in a bag or jar, or even my lunch pail, oh no…that’s for amateurs. Pfft. I’m going to stuff those babies right up my you-know-what because I’m nothing if not fully committed to this endeavor.”  As it turns out, thankfully, no-one. At least no-one who has been caught red…ummm…handed.  As I stated from the beginning, the article was fake, but still, it made for an interesting little debate in my head as to what constitutes acceptable eyeballs for anal stuffing. And isn’t that what all good journalists should do?  Make their audience think!?

 

eyeballs in anal cavity

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Day Late and a Dollar Short

When Mike Judge’s satire “Idiocracy” was released in 2006, it didn’t make much of a mark on the landscape of cinema. Possibly just a little more than a blip of actual recognition. The film was a fairly ludicrous tongue-in-cheek poke at where our society will end up in 500 years if ignorance prevails. It was worth a few chuckles. Sadly, with each new year, more and more signs that “Idiocracy” is actually a documentary rather than a work of fiction, creep up. The latest has me shaking my head not just at law enforcement, but the education system.

You’re probably not going to believe me when I tell you this, but there are people—MANY people apparently —that don’t know that a $2 bill is a real thing. They’ve never heard of it, never seen it, pretty much think it’s the same thing as bajillion dollar bill. Don’t believe me? Seem a bit too, dare I say, idiotic? Unfortunately, I am shamefully stating a fact and the link to the story is here.  Have at it.

To sum up, in case you can’t open the link for some reason (or don’t feel like reading about utter stupidity), this poor eighth grade student tried to pay for her school lunch with at $2 bill given to her by her grandmother and was denied. The people working in the school cafeteria (did you catch that key word “school”? You know, a place where kids go to learn) thought she was passing off a fake bill. That’s embarrassing enough, right? That in an environment of academics and scholastics, the people working as an appendage of an educational institute didn’t recognize United States currency. However, sadly, it doesn’t end there.

So appalled were the cafeteria workers that this conniving middle schooler was trying to put one over on them that the police, yes the POLICE, were called in to investigate. Now, you’re probably thinking, “Well, they’ll nip this problem in the bud right away and set everyone straight.” Well, you would be wrong. So wrong. They didn’t know what a $2 bill was either. To repeat, a police officer for the Fort Bend Independent School District did recognize what a $2 bill was. What did he do in the face of this brand new, obviously fabricated bill coming from the pockets of a charlatan-in-training? He threatened her by telling her she could be in “big trouble” for trying to use the fake bill.  Cause you know. Counterfeiting and such.

Where does the ridiculousness end, you may be asking yourself? Not much longer, but still a trail of bread crumbs far too long. First the student’s grandmother confirmed that she gave her granddaughter the bill. THEN the police went to the convenience store who supplied the grandmother with the bill in the first place to make sure they backed up her alibi. THEN, they took the bill to a bank where bank officials confirmed that, yes, $2 bills do exist and what they had in their hot little hands was one of them.

I’m sorry but as much as I would love to find a way to reason with the school workers and police department, I just can’t figure out how to give them the benefit of the doubt. Sure, it’s not like we see $2 bills every day, but it’s still in circulation and was even deemed somewhat popular up until 1966. It’s not like this kid was trying to pass off dinars. It was legal US currency being used in the US and it fooled multiple levels of “educated” professionals.

If this isn’t a harbinger that “Idiocracy” is getting closer, I don’t want to know what is.

here you go...you know, in case you're wondering what one looks like

here you go…you know, in case you’re wondering what one looks like

 

 

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Right to Remain Silent

I’ve recently come to the realization that network television will probably never make a reality show centered round me.  Not because my life isn’t interesting enough and not because the people in my life aren’t colorful enough. No, no, there’s probably plenty of material for them to work with. The problem has to do with the simple, unavoidable fact that I have a bit of a potty mouth.  Some of you may have noticed. I’ve known this about myself for some time, but my Lord, the things that I’ve been seeing in the news lately has had me making a run for the crown in The Most F Bombs per Minute contest (the title is currently held by Christian Bale in case you were wondering).

Can any of you relate? You turn on the news to see what’s going on in the world and are bombarded by so much horrible, detestable, gut-wrenching shit that your brain basically malfunctions. When my brain malfunctions, I am only really able to do one of two things:

  • Become speechless OR
  • Curse up a storm! This is where the producers of my reality show would decide to pull the plug. If one of my rants were ever broadcast on NBC, every other word would be a BEEP Now that might be okay in normal situations. But here lately, there’d be so many that you wouldn’t even know who I was mad at or why.  I’d be speaking Morse Code rather than English.

I know you’re wondering about that first point I made. Me? Speechless? Well, you got me.  I’m not really “speechless” in the technical sense.  I just can’t get past the various forms of the word f**k (in all its glory) in order to make my point completely clearly here in print.  My mother reads this blog after all. And if I were to censor myself, it’d be like reading one of those classified government documents with 90% of the text highlighted black.

Anyway.  It’s gotten to the point where I’m avoiding the mainstream news like the plague, so I’ve only been subjected to what’s been showing up on my mobile alerts and newsfeed. Stupidly, I thought this would “help” my mood.  Yeah, right.  My mobile alerts and newsfeed are filled with animal advocacy issues. Not exactly a subject that helps rein in my tongue.

I swear (ha!), it’s a wonder I haven’t had a stroke yet over the stories I’ve come across. Throw in some personal issues that have had me seeing red lately and it’s been a downright free-for-all at my house.  I won’t even bore you with the personal issues right now. Long story short, I’m sure you’ve heard the old adage “so and so rears its ugly head.”  Yeah, well…them ugly heads, they’ve been a-rearing…’Nuff said.

So what gets me sounding like Joe Pesci in a Martin Scorsese movie? In a word – Bears.

Or rather, bears accidentally mixing with dumb, ignorant, attention-hungry humans. There was a story about some woman who ran into two young bears over the summer when she was on a walk in a State Park – where (gasp!) bears live, in case you didn’t know – and rather than back away like a normal person or follow any of the safety protocols that are posted in parks, she simply could not contain herself and just had to have her 15 minutes in the spotlight. So she whips out her cell phone and starts videotaping them. Well, lo and behold, just seeing the bears in nature wasn’t enough.  She then apparently started trying to get them closer to the camera by beckoning to them in baby talk. When one of the bears opened its mouth in an obvious attempt to take in her scent (as we’ve all seen animals do, hell my cat even does it), she decided to claim that it “almost bit her.” Almost bit her.  How does something almost bite you, I’d like to know!  It’s not like she fought it off and kept it from biting her.  In the video, this “almost bite” was the bear, smelling her leg with its mouth open.  Do you see the beginnings of my frustration?

Rather than keep the information of this encounter to herself, she showed the video – no, not to park rangers, but rather, to the media (therein lies the 15 minutes of fame), with the story that she was “afraid” and was just glad she got out alive. There were several times that the bears took refuge near a tree or into the woods to avoid the woman because they were clearly nervous and uncertain…did she take the opportunity to leave the area or yell to scare them farther away (since she was sooo afraid)?  No. She stuck around, even going so far as to put her water bottle down so she could videotape better.

What happens next? Two dead bears, that’s what. Because the park rangers, in their complete and utter brilliance, thought that was the right thing to do (despite a public outcry and petitions coming out the ears).  It should be noted that just one of the bears even approached her and most likely wouldn’t have if the woman had just had some common sense.  Did I mention they were very young animals? Just a year and a half old. Still babies really. Was the woman fined for interacting with or harassing wildlife (like you’re supposed to be) for acting as she did?  No. Of course not.

Okay…hang on…Breathe, Wendy. Breathe. I usually cannot get through this story without cursing profusely and typing is no exception.  I must say the poor bears were surrounded by idiots that day and they paid the a dear price for human stupidity.

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Dog Gone Stupid

If you’ve known me for more than five minutes, you’ll know that I love dogs. Let me try that again. I LOVE dogs. Of course I think mine is the best in the world, but in general just about every dog is worthy of belly rubs and behind the ear scratches. Naturally, I often miss my dog when he’s not able to be with me. Like when I have to go the doctor, to the library, to a work meeting, or go grocery shopping. But, hey, those are the rules. Even though it pains me, I follow the rules and I know I’m going to see him again soon, so it’s not like it’s really that bad. I mean, really, what kind of person can’t be separated from their dog for even an hour while they have brunch with their friends?

I’m so glad you asked! THIS kind of person can’t do that.  A dog trainer, in fact. One who took the time to write an article detailing the ins and outs of having a “fake” service dog while encouraging others to take her lead. It was mainly infuriating, but often it also veers into delusional with a couple of quick pit stops into utter nonsensical.

It should be noted that the author of the piece entitled “Me and My Fake Service Dog,” Anna Jane Grossman, quickly deleted her original article from medium.com due to the severe, and immediate, backlash it received upon its publication. Strangely enough, even the Google cache link has since been removed. However, a very industrious YouTube person posted a video showing screenshots of the original article which has also been removed. BUT the article did exist, however briefly, and deserves comment.

This woman, Ms. Grossman, has taken it upon herself to give the laws of the state of New York the middle finger and intentionally go through great lengths to lie so that her dog can go with her everywhere. She pretends he’s a Service Dog which means everyone who encounters her and her dog assumes she has a disability that requires the help of the canine.

She doesn’t lie about whether or not she has a disability (because by law no-one’s allowed to ask what her disability is, she just lets everyone assume). She just lies about her dog and his alleged “job.” And she’s very aware of what she’s doing. It’s a very purposeful thing.

A few stellar quotes from the blog that jumped out at me due to their sheer audacity are:

“But it’s true that often people in shops and restaurants are assuaged to see some kind of “proof,” even if it’s meaningless. (For this reason, a friend used Photoshop to make Amos a “Service Dog” card, which has indeed helped mollify shopkeepers)” 

“I might lie for my own benefit, but I can’t condone someone else’s dishonesty”

And my favorite:

“Of course, I’d rather not lie at all!”

Oh, you’d rather not lie at all? Here’s an idea: don’t. Just don’t. Follow the laws like other people. No one is making you put yourself above the law. No one is making you print out fake registration cards (she even puts a picture of the card on her blog). From what I’ve read, there’s no reason that this dog is in mortal danger if it is left alone. There are simply no external forces making her lie as she tries to make it sound like (this is when the delusion comes in). She just wants to be with her dog all the time. So lie she must! What a crock of crap.

What’s worse is that she also encourages others to do this. She has a dog training school. I will repeat. She has a dog training school. She is a dog trainer. She trains dogs. For clients. Presumably for money. And she believes it’s okay to not only lie about her dog being a Service Dog, but to encourage others to do the same. Shouldn’t someone who is in the business of training dogs for a living have more respect for the real jobs of Service Dogs and those who need them?

Look, it’s bad enough that people who are disabled have the drawbacks of their disability affecting their daily lives. But they also usually have to jump thru bureaucratic hoops just to get a Service Dog or get their own dog (or animal) certified legally. Yes, they have it hard enough already without this woman threatening their credibility just because she gets lonely without her dog around.

She seems to think that the behavior of the dog is the determining factor in this whole issue. If the dog acts well-behaved then it should be able to go anywhere. She’s missing the point that it’s not about the dog’s behavior; it’s an issue of what’s legal and what’s not, period. An issue she’s decided to skirt around for her own selfish desires.

My favorite delusional line (when talking about NYC changing their policies about dogs allowed on outdoor patios) is:

“Perhaps this is the beginning of a movement to stop segregating dogs based on their owners’ disabilities, and instead look at the dogs’ abilities.”

Yes folks, dog segregation is obviously a HUGE problem in this country in case you didn’t know. Now I’m all for animal welfare, which you guys well know…but seriously, she’s going to claim her lies are to protest dog segregation!?

Now Ms. Grossman, at one point, put a statement on her company page to the effect that she was simply trying expose the regulations involving Service Dogs, though I have no idea how exactly she might have been doing that.

Her following statement sort of contradicts that intention anyway and is much more telling:

“There are various reasons why Faux-disableds may bring dogs with them to places like restaurants. It might be because it’s convenient, or it could be for the well-being of the dog who, for example, might have anxiety when left alone. Many, like myself, just are happier when they have their dog around. I’ve suffered depression for years; if Amos is with me, I’m less likely to drift into the dark recesses of my brain. But is my depression so crippling that I’d diagnose myself as disabled? Maybe one day a year.”

When it comes down to it, this self-centered, self-absorbed woman sure doesn’t seem to care one iota for Service Dogs in general or their behavior or worse yet, the people who truly need them. She just wants to make sure her dog can be by her side 24 hours a day and she doesn’t care who gets hurt in the process. In the end, isn’t that just sort of sad, too?