I love humanity, but I hate people. It seems no matter how incredibly disappointed I become in the actions of some of the humans on this planet, some other depressing story hits the news wires and I sink just a little lower. That group of guys that beat their neighbor’s daughter’s pet pygmy goat to death with sticks to sell the meat for cocaine, the Muslims that successfully won a lawsuit to ban Winnie the Pooh piglet dolls from their workplace, just about ANY news story involving Ingrid Newkirk. And list just goes on. A few more stories like those and I’ll be officially applying to be a member of whatever species Jackie Stallone is.
But funny factoids, everybody loves them. Especially, it seems, if they’re not true. Like the urban legend that the day of the Superbowl features the highest number of domestic abuse complaints, or that the day after Thanksgiving is the biggest shopping day of the year.
Well, here’s a little factoid for you people, and you can take this one to the bank.
What day of the year features the highest number of calls to 911 Emergency Dispatch?
The day after Christmas.
Why the day after Christmas, you ask? Well, grab that mouthpiece and start squeezing that stress pillow because I’m about to tell you.
Everyone wants to test out their new cell phones, and apparently, that’s the only number they can skim off the top of their pointy little heads.
The abuse of the most important emergency service in this country has gotten a bit out of control. Just do a preliminary search online and you’ll find endless stories about people calling 911 because the guy that cleaned their carpets at the car wash left muddy footprints on the back seat, or some guy was yelling at his dog. I even found a story about a man that called 911 and asked them to connect him to Switzerland. I also found a story about a woman that called 911 and asked for the police to go by her ex-boyfriend’s house and see if there were any cars in his driveway other than his own.
I know these people don’t read this blog. Frankly, I’m certain these people can’t even read. But for the love of all that is true and right and reproducible in a controlled laboratory environment, you people have got to stop! It gets worse every year, which is no surprise, because more and more people get cellphones each year. Is this really the only number you can think of? Holy fucking shit!
As if the New Orleans Saints weren’t enough, a woman in Thibodeaux, LA decided to further shame the state of Louisiana by calling 911 in response to the life-threatening emergency of being served cold onion rings.
So spread the word everybody. When you get served cold onion rings, get cut off on the highway, stub your toe on the edge of your dresser on a cold morning, find a pile of cat puke on your bathroom floor, or notice the guy at Burger King handling the lettuce without gloves, try to keep your hand away from the cell phone. If you get cornered by Jackie Stallone, though, you call that number.
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
The Unbearable Coldness of Onion Rings
Posted by Scott at 11:32 AM
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