Happy Festivus Eve 2023 Everyone

I have three grievances to air this year. I thought up four of five over the course of the year, but I didn't write them down. I forgot a few of them. Boy does that burn my biscuits. Somehow this is all the fault of the comment section. I've got a lot of problems with you people, but before I get into that, we need to conduct a little business. Today is the last day to vote in the final round of the the inaugural Last Figure Standing. This annual event is going to go on for years (at least three), so be sure to take part in history. You can tell your grandkids you participated in the first ever Last Figure Standing:

Click HERE to vote

Okay, that's done. Now it's time for the airing of grievances.



Is it me, or are headlights getting out of control. It's getting to the point that I can't tell if I'm being approached by an idiot with his high beams on, or if I'm in the midst of a UFO abduction:


I live in an area that is between rural and suburban with a lot of unlit streets. There's nothing better than being on a pitch black road and having one of these bro-dozer truck-a-saurus pickups coming up behind me with twenty different front facing lights, each of which could single handedly light a stadium. After bouncing off my mirrors, it turns the cabin of my car into a 12 million candlepower disco ball, and I'm driving blind.



Attention all delivery services:

STOP PUTTING PEOPLE'S PACKAGES LEANING UP AGAINST THEIR GARAGE DOORS:


Peple open the garage door. Get in their car, and back out. THEY DON'T PERFORM A PERIMETER SEARCH TO MAKE SURE A SMALL PACKAGE DIDN'T FIND ITS WAY INTO A TIRE'S PATH. Both my wife and I have backed over packages in the past. Now I'm a bit of a buffoon in the Peter Griffin / Homer Simpson mold, so backing over my own action figure delivery is par for the course. But by the rules of cartoon sitcom tropes, I as the buffoon means my wife is pretty with it. So that fact that she has also backed over some of my action figures (the Marvel Universe Omega Red wave) puts the blame squarely on the shippers.



This one has made the list before, but the problem is getting worse, so it makes the list again. What on Earth is up with the people who need to stop to conduct some sort of personal business after immediately stepping into, or just prior to stepping out of a retail establishment? The reasons for stopping are legion. It can range from zipping/unzipping a coat, checking their cell phone, or contemplating the meaning of life. All that matters is that the stop is in one of the few places that inconveniences their fellow shoppers. Why can't these activities be done in any of the OTHER FIFTY THOUSAND SQUARE FEET OF THE ESTABLISHMENT WHERE THEY WOULD BE OUT OF EVERYONE'S WAY?!?

The one that kills me is the zipping of the coat as they're standing in the exit doors. It's as if they thought maybe it warmed up 50 degrees while they were inside, and it's not until the arctic blast of air hits them that they realize their seasonally appropriate outerwear is still necessary. Oh, and here's another thing about the stoppers. It's an immutable law of the universe that if you attempt to walk around the obstruction, they will start moving again the literal second you start to pass them. It then becomes a race to the next choke point. I feel like most people know when they're getting in the way, and politely step to the side. But there must be some recessive gene that affects 1 in every 100 people where they are completely unaware of others.

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Thus concludes the airing of grievances, but Festivus isn't over until one of you can pin me.

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