If you think you are a steam powered, ocean class




This is where you come to post your qualifications or confess your sins depending on your perspective.

I am a highly qualified SPOCA:

- I routinely delight in the misery of certain people (criminals, but they are people too)
- I am an avid fan and supporter of www.darwinawards.com/
- Your poor life choices are my comedy
- Piss me off just a little, and I can carry a massive grudge
- I have certainly required people to do as I say not as I do (ask my kids)
- I play Dogfight even though it angers the wife
- If I don't know you, well you are simply not to be trusted
- Ron Swanson was the best character on Parks and Rec. The show was actually about him
- I am the guy the always ignores "the line"
- I have almost reached the pinnacle of the A-hole pyramid
- My wife once asked, "Do the people who work for you like you?" Enough said there...

Feel free to unburden yourself or declare yourself a highly qualified SPOCA! Happy Friday!

All I can add is this; When I was still in the military, Mrs. Viper would say me when I retired I would have to adjust how I talked to and treated people. "You will need to be nicer and more politically correct" she would say. I proved her wrong.

Here is their theme song.

I live close to the university of New South Wales in Sydney, which is popular with foreign, mostly Asian students. No problem with that. They're polite, friendly and law abiding, with one exception....shopping carts. They don't return shopping carts, better known in Australia and the rest of the civilised world as shopping trolleys, but I'm translating for the majority audience.

Every day there are two or three abandoned on the sidewalk outside my apartment block (shopping carts that is, not students). It had been going on for ever, according to my asshole Airforce neighbour (drives a Mercedes SUV, if you know what I mean). Anyway, for a while I just ignored the problem, but eventually my razor sharp investigative instincts (TX, you would be proud of me) took me to the local supermarket.....

There they were, patrolling the supermarket aisles in gaggles of six or eight (I dunno how many they stack in a room, but you get the idea), loading carts with their weekly groceries. Then, without a hint of concern for others, they would take their carts home, unload their shopping and.......that's it....just leave these things in the street for other migrants (good migrants who work for a living rather than just study engineering and annoy me) to collect and return every few days.

One day, the inevitable happened; I confronted a group of unsuspecting kids in the most tactless manner. I blocked their path, glared menacingly, pointed accusingly and shouted 'I hope you're gonna return that f*****g thing to where it belongs!'

They were utterly terrified, and nodded enthusiastically, indicating that they would indeed return the cart once they had finished with it.

Job done, I thought. The streets are cleaner thanks to me. But my wife was unimpressed, perhaps because at the time of my outburst we were still in the supermarket, near the deli counter as I recall.

'You can be such an asshole' she hissed, as we browsed the cheeses and cured meats. At the time I thought she was being a bit harsh, but on reflection, perhaps not.