Cap Guns and Candy Cigarettes

If you weren't careful you could get one right between the eyes.

What do you suppose is going through the minds of a set of young parents when they leave their offspring with a gaggle of other children being “overseen” by an absentee caretaker who seemingly can’t hear the screams of the of the small weak ones being terrorized by the lurching bully with a smoking beaker of blue liquid from his second-rate junior chemistry set?

That was a run-on rhetorical question.

It’s not as if I was really worried that the raving lunatic in a white lab coat who had us in headlocks at various times during the evening would actually make us drink the flaming Drano.

No, I was more concerned with he irresponsibility of the large groups of parents out for a night on the town while we tried to hide in the cabinets under the sink to avoid the lesser, mentally deranged version of Bill Nye the Science Guy.

We had to put up with any number of barbaric torture sessions that included running from death in the sky, more commonly known as Lawn Darts at night, and being locked in the basement screaming while he went outside and threw things at the cellar windows.

When I finally got around to rubbing my two brain cells together, it caused a neurological spark large enough to give me an idea about telling my parents of these horrible goings on and they promptly discontinued my membership in the babysitting third circle of hell.

They then  found me a docile high school nerd who liked to wax poetic about the Bay City Rollers and the original incarnation of Battlestar Galactica. This I didn’t mind so much because she let me stay up past my bedtime so we could watch new episodes together.

And yes, it’s two days before Thanksgiving so let’s just agree that I’m kind of phoning it in here even though this childhood recollection is both chilling and peculiar. I mean Lawn Darts? It’s shocking we didn’t have various body parts nailed to the ground when the adults got home.

Happy Turkey day.

Oh gosh I almost forgot! Culture Brats did a best Police songs list. Go over and willingly give your love to the fearsome threesome.

Lawn Dart photo courtesy of Gizmodo

Tranny Nanny

I babysit!

We here in the nation’s capital are a pretty open-minded bunch. 

 Probably because we get to see so many interesting things in a day.
 

Obama, big impressive monuments, culturally diverse neighborhoods, nincompoops waving signs with the date of the end times, etc.
 

But today I saw something that really made me smile.
 

I confess that as I sat at the traffic light waiting to cross Connecticut Ave. I beheld a most unusual sight. 

It was a cross dressing nanny, toddlers in tow.  One tyke in her push cart and the other slightly older sibling holding on tight to his caretakers hand.
 

Well let me rephrase that. It could have been a cross dresser, a transvestite or an enormous hairy woman with an obviously protruding adams apple.
 

I don’t know if it was the hairy legs, the stiletto heels or the sparkly blouse and over the top wig but she was a long lean baby sitting machine. 

The tranny nanny. 

She really was spectacular. 
“How” you may ask “do you know that those weren’t her/his kids?”
 

Well people, I thought about that until a woman, who appeared to be their mother, stepped off a metro bus at the corner and walked toward the toddlers with open arms.
 

I need to get this kind of stuff out of my head and directly to  the computer  or it just festers there and I spend the better part of my day thinking about the fabulously dressed manny. 

So anyway, I took this a sign of progress and wanted to interject a little sparkle &  pizzazz into your day so that you  can be on the lookout for elaborate and unusual case scenarios in your city or neighborhood.

You never know, you could turn around tomorrow and find yourself in a courtroom facing a yeti lawyer or laid up in the hospital explaining symptoms to carnies or other assorted circus folk.