10 questions

In honor of Passover, here are ten questions (why settle for just four, as grandpa Shlomo liked to say) :

Why do they have to put Health Inspector posters on the front doors of restaurants that closed down for health violations? Is it to rub it in? As in, ha ha, not only has your favorite dining hole been closed down, but it's likely there are bacteria living in your body now forming Calypso bands and dancing nightly with your spleen.

Why do people who hope never to see you again promise to give you call "real soon?" Are they so afraid of truth? To those people I have a few restaurants to recommend.

Why do people fail to reply to emails when the reply is "no." Bill, you want to go to a party on Saturday? No reply = no. Since when? Bill is a pussy.

Why do people enter a nearly empty subway car and block the doorway? I know it's more comfortable to lean against the doors and after all, who wants to get any closer to the teeming masses than you have to, but how do these people expect others to get on the train? Oh wait, they don't think. They don't care. They're New Yorkers.

I had a screaming cold this week, and by "screaming," I mean that every time I tried to sneeze my head nearly exploded and I let out a piercing shriek that astounded my friends and once caused my neighbor to call the police. My question is this: would A-Rod be more popular if he weren't such a phony?

Why do the two women in the office around the corner from my desk think they're princesses? Must have been bad parenting.

Why do technical support folks keep you on hold for so damned long? Are they back there playing video games or writing worthless blogs? And when they finally complete the call they have to gaul to say, "thank you for choosing Sprint" or whichever, when we all know none of us really chooses anything in this topsy-turvy world, we're all just helpless specks hurtling through the universe.

Speaking of phones. Why do marketers call you at home to sell you stuff? Next time that happens I'm libel to track 'em down and force 'em to sing I Write the Songs over and over until they go even more insane then they must already be for calling me at home, don't they know I'm watching my soaps? Damn!

Why is chocolate so tasty? Mmm, chocolate. But not as tasty as caramel.

Speaking of sweet. Why is life so short, but so damned sweet? Mmm, life.