I’ve never been a big fan of Halloween. When I was a child, October 31st was the day mean-spirited grown-ups passed out mini candy bars laced with rat poison or dirty needles. Now that I’m an adult, Halloween has become the day when random children come around and demand that I give them free candy, or else suffer the consequences of having eggs hurled at my windows. Hello! That’s what those evil kids really mean when they say “trick or treat.”

For some reason, however, I’ve decided to put my anti-Halloween attitude on hold and will put on a costume. And it’s not going to be a skanky costume either, because only skanks wear that crap. How does that make any sense anyway? I thought the purpose of wearing a costume was so you could be someone other than yourself for a day. But skanks dress up as skanks. Ooh, you’re a modern-day ho dressed up as a medieval ho—that’s clever.

I’m going to cut the skanks some slack this year though. Times are tough, you know, and most of us have to think twice before we put down money on a Halloween costume we might never wear again. Skanks, however, can wear their outfits all year long because that’s basically how they dress anyway. I guess there is a second way for them to come out on top!

What was I talking about again? Oh right, my Halloween costume. As I said, I’m thinking about dressing up this year, but I’m having a difficult time trying to decide what I want to dress up as. I have cut the list down to three choices, and that’s as far as I got before my indecisive nature kicked in. Since I’m posting this as a blog, I obviously would like your input on which costume I should go with.

    I. Ovulating Rabbit

    II. Fierce Dental Hygienist

Note: there will be lots of body glitter–I just didn’t draw it in the picture because the glitter looked more like a bukkake disaster.

    III. Satan’s Creepy, Gift-Giving, Child-Loving Uncle

It’s Decision ’09! Which costume should I wear?

On Monday, while I was washing my hands in one of the school’s bathrooms:

Okay, you know what? If you see something suspicious, the last thing you want to do is put your face near it because you might find yourself getting way too close to something like this:

That’s right: I put my face within inches of someone’s pube! Rape shower! Rape shower!

But then…

See, this is the kind of sh*t that keeps me up at night. Forget health concerns or financial troubles–I want to know what type of hair was left hanging out by the sink. And this seriously bothers me! It can’t have come from someone’s head, unless there is a person walking around with beaver scalp. The only other type of body hair I can think of that resembles the random sink strand is armpit hair.

Okay fine, but now I’m stuck with another annoying question: why was a single strand of pubic/armpit hair on the sink to begin with?

That’s all I’ve got. After two days of analyzing and reanalyzing, the best thing I can come up with is that there’s a person who collects her hairs to make pube or pit hair wigs, and she accidentally left a strand by the sink when she was washing her hands.

You’re all smarter than I am. What kind of hair was it, and why was it on the sink? I need to know, or else I will never be at peace!

One of my cats, Turnip, likes to bite thin wires. He knows this is wrong given all the sour apple spray I’ve applied on my cords and cables. But rather than putting an end to his bad habit, Turnip has instead learned some crazy ass ninja skills and can now bite my wires without me ever noticing!

        I. LOL Cats and I Can Has Cheezburger

I love cats and I also love cheeseburgers, so by default I should love icanhascheezburger.com and its LOL Cats. But I don’t. I don’t think any of the pictures or captions are funny—and I have visited so many times! I’ve actually spent hours looking at the photos in hopes that one of them will at least get me to crack a smile or something. But it’s like my sense of humor has really bad constipation, and no matter how hard I try to squeeze out a kernel of amusement, the only thing that comes out is hot air.

And can you blame me for feeling this way? Most of the pictures look like this:

Someone took a picture of a cat while it was in the middle of yawning, and then threw in a caption based on an object that was also captured in the shot. Hilarious.

I’m in the minority though, because everyone who’s ever seen the website just loves it. And I don’t understand why. Why? What is it about this sh*t that I don’t get?

        II. Ventriloquist Comedians

I don’t flip through television channels anymore. I’m too afraid to. I’ve had too many traumatic experiences in channel surfing hell—I’d rather turn my T.V. off and sit in total darkness and silence. It would be extremely boring, yes, but at least I’ll be safe from danger. Channel surfing, my friends, is dangerous. You might think you are just pressing the “Channel Up” or “Channel Down” buttons on your remote, but the truth is your haphazard search for something to watch is putting you in harm’s way. And you won’t realize this until it is too late…when you come face-to-face with your worst fears:

ARGH! A doll version of me ventriloquist dummy!

Yes, the threat of seeing a ventriloquist dummy on television is what keeps me from flipping through channels nowadays. And no, I don’t subscribe to some creepy doll cable package. The only times I’ve ever seen these wooden nightmares was on one of Comedy Central’s stand-up specials. One of the comedians they feature is a guy named Jeff Dunham, who uses ventriloquist dummies in his routine. Why he and his scary dolls deserve airtime is beyond me—I mean, the gross dummy is bad enough. Combine that with a guy who is about as funny as getting a rusty nail through your foot and you get a “Saw” movie comedy that’s more “Dante’s Inferno” than “Dave Chappelle.”

But again, I might actually be the only person who dislikes ventriloquist-dummy-using comedians. It always looks like Jeff Dunham is performing to a sold-out crowd, and the audience laughs at everything he and his scary dummies say. He’s apparently so funny that he’s getting his own show now. That’s right: he and his dolls are going to be part of Comedy Central’s regular programming schedule!

Why? Why? Why?

        III. Jon Gosselin

Why do I know more about this guy than I do some of my own relatives? He’s only famous because he was on “Jon & Kate Plus 8,” a show I have never watched. And yet, he has somehow managed to make me aware of his existence. There is a news update about him every day—although, I don’t know if you could consider them updates when they’re all about him being a bitter loser. The guy was on Larry King’s show twice. His face is unavoidable at grocery store checkout lines. He’s a herpes sore in flip-flops: he may go away, but it’ll never be permanent. And when he comes back, you’ll know because he brings with him a painful burning sensation.

He’s loathsome and obnoxious, but most people must find him fascinating or else he would not be getting as much publicity as he is. What’s so appealing about him? What is it about this piece of sh*t that I don’t get?

I’m assuming this is what a herpes sore looks like…didn’t really feel like looking up any images for fear I’d see something that made my eyes bleed.

Thank you all so, so much for all the helpful advice you gave me on how to schmooze! Just reading all your comments really gave me a confidence boost, and by the time I left for the cocktail party I was actually looking forward to schmoozing up a storm!

Unfortunately—and I say this with great disgust—I never got the chance to make use of the advice you blessed me with. Not one. And that was because the cocktail party that was supposed to celebrate a grand opening of a classmate’s law firm was not that at all. Even though the invitation said “Join me in celebrating the grand opening of my new law firm,” the event turned out to have nothing to do with a law firm or even the practice of law. What this classmate—whom I shall call Mr. Crater-Faced Douche—actually was inviting people to was an introductory seminar on how to become a “business builder” for Agel Enterprises.

Never heard of Agel Enterprises? That’s okay; before Sunday night, I hadn’t heard of it either—probably because Agel Enterprises isn’t a company…it’s a pyramid scheme. A pyramid scheme!

I’ve never been to a recruitment event, and I still have no idea how this bizarre chain of events started. But the experience made me realize that this stuff is going to happen a lot more often now that the economy is in a rut. People are desperate, and douche bags are greedy–and pyramid schemes bring the two groups together.

You’d think these scams wouldn’t be very successful since everyone knows pyramid schemes are illegal, and everyone knows that everyone knows this. The problem is that most schemers don’t use the term “pyramid scheme” when describing their companies. Instead, they prefer to call themselves franchisors, and they want to give you the chance to own your own business by becoming one of their franchisees. With those terms, the shady nature of the investment becomes less and less obvious—especially when there are so many examples of legitimate franchises all over the place. I know that when I hear the word “franchise” I’m more likely to think of fast food than fraud.

Pyramid schemes, however, have certain characteristics that legitimate companies don’t. And those characteristics are apparent regardless of whether they’re selling franchises, distributorships, alpacas, phone cards, whatever. And Agel Enterprises is a perfect example of a typical pyramid scheme that it embodied every single trait, and then some. Yes, it’s that crappy.

To thank you giving me tons of helpful schmoozing tips, I’d like to give you the gift of knowledge—specifically, “F*ck Off, Pyramid Scheme Douche” knowledge. This will help you quickly spot pyramid schemes, and give you ample time to get away before the scheming douche bags waste any more of your time.

There are two parts to “F*ck Off, Pyramid Scheme Douche” knowledge. One part involves law stuff. Pyramid schemes are illegal and all, so understanding the factors that the law recognizes as being telltale signs of such schemes is very useful. The second part involves developing a Douchie Sense. The Douchie Sense is like Spiderman’s “Spider Sense,” except it only tingles when you’re in the midst of something douchie—like a pyramid scheme seminar. But if you’re in danger of being attacked by a crazy comic book villain, you’re on your own…unless the villain is a mutant douche bag or something.

Anyway, let’s get knowledgeable!

I. Law Stuff

    1. Recruiting vs. Retail

Most pyramid schemes are based on a specific business model: a company makes a line of sh*t products and offers participants franchises through which they can sell the sh*t products. A successful franchise, however, is not based on selling the sh*t products. The truth is the company couldn’t care less about how much inventory is sold; it just wants you to get more people to buy a franchise. And the more franchises you sell, the more money you’ll supposedly make. Good thing, because there is no way in hell anyone would be able to make any money selling Agel’s sh*t.

Agel sells bags of liquid vitamins that can miraculously cure all your ailments. And you know this must be true because Dr. Frank Valdes says so!

You know what doesn’t check out? Dr. Valdes’s medical license because the f*cker doesn’t have one. Oops.

Agel also claims that its supplements are revolutionary products because they are produced using “Suspension Gel Technology.” I’m not completely sure I understand, but this so-called technology takes the vitamins found in, like, a Centrum and transforms it into a gel. So instead of swallowing a daily pill, you swallow a daily gel.

Revolutionary, my ass. Those Agel assholes probably didn’t know that Jell-O has been using “suspension gel technology” since 1897. And I’ll bet a pouch of Jell-O has greater nutritional value than a pack of this crap.

    2. Insane Profits

The amount of money the company says you’ll make is also something you should pay close attention to. Pyramid schemes like to promise profits that are “too good to be true,” and which aren’t at all realistic when you put the promises into the context they are made. A 5-figure paycheck every month is already unbelievable, but making that much selling sh*t products? You’d be better off burying your wallet in the ground and waiting for a money tree to grow. That damn tree will be sprouting way before you sell your first box of sh*t.

Put it all together, and you have the basic test for pyramid scheme spotting: if the business’s success depends more on recruiting new participants than selling products, and if you’re being promised insanely high returns with each new recruit you bring in, you’re dealing with a pyramid scheme.

II. Douchie Sense Development

Having a Douchie Sense will help you spot a pyramid scheme based on your surroundings. My Douchie Sense actually started going off once I got to Mr. Crater-Faced Douche’s office. I don’t know if he was being dumb or cocky, but he was not doing a good job hiding the true purpose of the party. He actually gave up a ton of clues: 

1. Fake Talk

When my friends and I arrived at the office, Mr. Crater-Faced Douche introduced us to his brother, Mr. Douchie Gimp Brother, and his lawyer friend, Mr. Lawyer Friend Douche. And once they started talking, my Douche Sense told me to get suspicious on their asses. They way they spoke sounded rehearsed—like how cult people speak when they are interviewed for a documentary. It was unnaturally Zen. What was also strange was that even though Mr. Crater-Faced Douche and Mr. Lawyer Friend Douche were both lawyers, neither of them wanted to talk about the profession, i.e., they weren’t there to network at all. All those two Douches wanted to talk about was money.

Mr. Douchie Gimp Brother was even worse. He couldn’t even pretend to be interested in talking to any of us. He just talked about money, and this new business he recently started. The thing I found particularly slimy about him was that although he wasn’t a lawyer, he had no problem criticizing the profession. He kept ragging on the pay, saying it wasn’t worth all the hours that are put in. According to Mr. Douchie Gimp Brother, lawyers could be making more money by doing less work if they opened their own businesses. He even had a friend who quit being an attorney because she was making more as an entrepreneur.

All the focus on money and how weird those guys sounded when they spoke gave me an idea: these assholes are going to rob us! No wait, they are dressed in suits. Those assholes are going to try to get us to invest in a pyramid scheme!

2. Sh*t Product Placement

On one of the office desks there was a display of Agel packets and brochures about their health benefits—you know, because shilling fake health supplements really fits in well with a law office party.

3. Shady Introduction Speech

About 30 minutes into the party, Mr. Crater-Faced Douche gathered everyone around him and said, “This is just a little get-together where people from different professions can come and network. In a little bit, my brother and I will be showing you a presentation, and afterwards we can all brainstorm ideas, about discuss this new business.”

The more I think about this one, the more I’m starting to believe Mr. Crater-Faced Douche is totally retarded because his speech only confirmed my suspicions: Umm okay, I thought this supposed to be a party for your new law office. Why the hell do we have to watch a presentation? And what’s the point of making us brainstorm and discuss ideas for your law firm? Oh! I get it. You are using your law office as a front so you can lure people into attending a pyramid scheme seminar!

4. Shady Old Fart

Probably the best proof that you’ve been invited to a pyramid scheme meeting is if there’s an Oompa Loompa-colored old fart wearing the same outfit Ricky Martin wore in his “Livin’ La Vida Loca” video somewhere in the room. You can’t miss him. He’s the leathery senior citizen who is trying to pass himself off as a hip young’n by putting gel in his hair and showing off his chest pubes. He’s the world’s biggest douche: Douchie McDouche-Douche.

Okay, fine, I might have made up the part where he called himself a douche bag…

You know what’s really sad though? Even if I’d never gone to law school (or college, high school, middle school, or preschool), didn’t have a Douchie Sense, and had an old-ass peanut for a brain, I still wouldn’t have invested in Agel Enterprises. Seriously, their presentation was the sh*ttiest piece of sh*t I have ever seen. All the stuff they tried to use to tempt people into becoming a participant wasn’t enticing at all. I mean, it was so bad I would have given them money to redo the damn thing.

And now I have to show you actual snapshots of the presentation just so you understand the extent of the awfulness.

Problem 1: The presentation was hosted by someone’s scary uncle:

Douche looks like his face would turn up in a sex offender registry.

Problem 2: Scary Uncle Guy says it costs $ 1,000 to become an Agel Enterprises “business builder.”

“…I know in today’s economy that can be an issue for some people.”

Okay, if all you heard was that sentence, what would be the next thing you’d expect the guy to say? I thought he would say something like, “We at Agel will pay the start-up costs.” After all, he had just acknowledged how difficult it would be for some people to come up with the $ 1,000 needed to join the scam. Requiring payment from someone whom you know doesn’t have that kind of cash would be an obvious sign that the whole thing was a scam, and also make Agel look totally douchie. Besides, what better way to lure in the vulnerable than by making it free for them to become “business builders”? All they would have to pay are the costs associated with maintaining their “businesses.”

Shows you how little I know about running a pyramid scheme because the next thing Scary Uncle Guy said was: “Some may have to borrow the money, take from savings, or put it on a credit card.”

And then the video cuts to more scenes of business builders talking about all the money they’ve made!

Problem 3: “The Agel opportunity offers you the chance to afford trips.”

All I see are a mob of seagulls flapping everywhere and a couple walking on doodoo sand…and I think the couple in the background is getting pecked alive.

Problem 4: “Did you know you can earn a new bonus car, and Agel will pay for it?”

Why would getting a car be enticing when it also comes with a free douche bag?

And here’s another clip of a bonus car (and free douche bag) you could earn by tricking people into selling gelatin in a pouch:

That piece of sh*t looks like it came from “Herbie: Fully Loaded.”

Problem 5: The diagram illustrating how recruiting more participants leads to more money.

This is so, so sad…

Your diagram is of a f*cking pyramid, dumbass!

I hope this helps you all protect yourselves from shady pyramid schemes!

I need you all to pool your intellect together because I am in dire need of your advice!

In about two hours, I am going to a cocktail party to celebrate the grand opening of a classmate’s law firm. There are going to be other lawyers and working professionals attending this event, and that means I am going to have to schmooze my way through the evening.

I hate schmoozing. You’re basically talking to a bunch of strangers about things that aren’t at all interesting, but you have to pretend to be engaged in the conversation for the sole purpose of making a connection that could potentially benefit your career. Gone are the days of resumes and interviews; if you want a job, it’s about whom you know and not what you know.

…And that sucks total ass for someone like me, because my schmoozing techniques are crap–and that’s an understatement. Every time I go to a networking event, it always turns out something like this:

Or this:

It’s awful!

I desperately need any tips you might have on getting through this thing! How do I at least pretend to look like I know what I’m doing?

Last week, I learned something very, very important:

If you are going to criticize someone for being a dumbass, you need to make sure you aren’t a dumbass yourself.

A very special person taught me this, and in honor of her teachings I will share the experience with the rest of you so that you may also learn this lesson of life.

So I’ve been battling a swarm of tiny bugs that have been flying around my kitchen for the past few weeks. At first, I didn’t really mind them much because they had confined themselves to a small area around my garbage can, but I became less tolerant when I noticed they had started hanging out on my cat’s canned food. And then I found larvae squirming around in the trash. Yes, larvae–the insect world’s way of saying, “Turf War, b*tch!” The fight was on, and it would prove to be a battle of epic proportions. It was Good versus Weevil…even though there weren’t any weevils involved, and I only wrote that because “Good versus Weevil” sounded a lot cooler than “Good verses Small, Brownish, Flying Bug.”

Anyway, I wanted to get rid of the flying bugs and their disgusting worm babies as fast as possible, but I didn’t want to just go out and buy a can of Raid without figuring out what the bugs actually were. Considering the variety of insecticide formulas available, and how each one targets a specific group of insect, I wanted to make sure I bought the right one for my particular bug problem. Unfortunately, my search on “small brown flying bug eat cat food” wasn’t very helpful, so I turned to a different place for answers: “Yahoo! Answers.”

Here’s the question I posted:

I received a number of helpful responses within minutes, but I found one person’s answer particularly interesting:

I was really surprised to receive such a rude response. I’d only ever seen them on questions about high school drama like, “I’m 13, but I really want to have a baby. Should I get pregnant?” or, “I’m graduating from high school soon, but I hate going to class. Would it be a good idea for me to just drop out and get a job?” It never occurred to me that someone would feel the need to write a douche bag answer to a question about flying bugs.

You know what else didn’t occur to me? That someone could actually fail at writing a douche bag answer. Talk about pathetic: this person was trying to dump on me for being a dumbass, but was too dumb to pull it off. It’s such an amazing feat of failure that I must pick it apart, broken sentence by broken sentence.

FLEAS GENIUS get flea spray and spray it everywere

Why, of course! Here I was, wasting all my time wondering what these little flying bugs were when it was so obvious that they were fleas! But being that I’m a dumbass and all, I assumed those bugs weren’t fleas—you know, since fleas are wingless insects, and the creatures in my apartment were flying around. You, however, are a genius! And your genius power helped you realize that fleas were capable of aerospace engineering, and that my apartment hadn’t been infiltrated by a swarm of winged insects, but by fleas wearing hi-tech mechanical wings.

Note: I love how she b*tches at me for being stupid, but then spells “everywhere” incorrectly. Those tricky silent H’s!

i got these great ideas from this new thing called a BRAIN some people just didnt read the owners manual to their BRAIN.

Maybe it’s the product of my subpar intelligence, but I’m having trouble understanding this: how is calling the brain a “new thing” that comes with an owner’s manual supposed to make me the stupid one in this equation? You’re the one who thinks brains are new (probably because you weren’t born with one like the rest of us were), and you had to read an owner’s manual to figure out how to use it. But, based on your overall retardedness, you read the manual about as accurately as you read my question. I actually feel exponentially smarter every time I read your second sentence—which should have been broken up into two if someone hadn’t purchased her brain from a freaking swap meet.

a: people: why in the world did you ask such a obvious question?!?!? (J
b: people: that is a good question that some people dont even think about!!! (P
YOUR QUESION IS A TYPE: a

I thought the little Type A/Type B thing was quite clever; too bad you butchered it with your sh*t bucket grammar. Do you even know how to use colons? What’s with the “a: people:”? You could have just gone with “a people:” instead. If you had, you probably wouldn’t have gotten confused over whether you were talking about types of people or types of questions, I mean, quesions. See, you began by categorizing two types of people, but then you said my question was Type A. I thought we were talking about “a: people” and “b: people”—does that mean my question is a Type A person? What are you trying to tell me? Please enlighten my feeble mind with your wisdom!

As for the “(J” and “(P”, I couldn’t really tell what these were, but they must be emoticons only really, really, really smart people use.

Meet my butt:

Butt and I have always had a great relationship–one based on trust and mutual respect.

As my body’s primary exit orifice, Butt has the very important job of getting all the stinky gas and poop I’ve accumulated out of my system. This is by no means an easy task, especially if you’re my butt because my daily diet consists of cheddar cheese and coffee. Most butts would have quit after a day, but Butt is different. It thrives in challenging situations, and practically welcomes them. Got a rock-hard doot kernel that won’t fit through your butt hole? Butt will squeeze it out–even if it means it has to sit on the toilet for 10 minutes, and push so hard your face turns red and your body sweats bullets. Sudden gas attack when you’re in a crowded room? Not only will Butt release the tension without making a sound, it will do it with such force that the toxic fart will smell like it’s coming from someone else.

Despite all the great things Butt does for me, I can’t bestow it with the title of Awesomely Awesome Butt of Awesomeness. I’d like to, but I can’t because unfortunately, it has one very unpleasant flaw:

No, I don’t have a problem with my butt having sharp teeth (whose doesn’t?). My problem with Butt is that it likes to eat toilet paper.

It happens randomly. I’ll be wiping myself clean after taking a satisfying dump, and Butt will suddenly take a bite out of the 2-ply:

I don’t understand where this behavior is coming from. Butt and I have always worked according to certain rules, one being “no clenching during a wipe.” And it’s usually very mindful of the importance of obedience, which is why I find this occasional rebellion so shocking…and disgusting. Sure, Butt’s happy about having a snack, but what about me? I mean, there’s a scrap of toilet paper up my butt. What am I supposed to do? Leave it there? It’s probably got crap on it! I’ve got no choice but to do the unthinkable before this doodoo tissue rots in my ass–i.e., I have to pick it out.

And forget trying to have a heart-to-heart with Butt. It never listens anyway. I bet it’ll just blame me for causing its snack attacks.  

Damn you, Butt. Damn you!

Unless you have an aura of scary/shadiness, a complete stranger has probably asked you to watch his stuff him while he ran a quick errand:

I call this type of favor Stuff-Watching Duty because I am clever, and because when you’re on Stuff-Watching Duty, you’re watching someone else’s stuff while that person is away.

Those of you who have been approached by a stranger have probably said “yes” at least once. I would say “yes” too—and I have on a number of occasions. But my willingness to go on Stuff-Watching Duty has changed. It happened when I was at the Taipei airport waiting for my flight to board. As a result of my crappy packing skills, I wound up carrying two bags of stuff along with my pillow, purse, and laptop.

Twenty minutes before boarding, I had to go to the bathroom. But I didn’t want to lug all my things around because (1) it was a pain in the ass, and (2) I knew some of my stuff was going to end up on the floor—something I was totally opposed to. Putting things anywhere on a bathroom floor is disgusting enough, but the toilets at this airport were all squatter-types. That meant there was a good chance the floor had layer of dried pee. Placing my bag of snack cakes would effectively turn them into urinal cakes.

So instead of bringing everything with me, I put the pillow and bags on some seats located outside the restroom. There was a woman sitting there, and I was tempted to ask her for a Stuff-Watching Duty favor, but something suddenly occurred to me: if someone actually stole my items, could I really expect the woman to do anything about it? She was doing a favor for me, a person she’d never met before and will probably never see again. Aside from maybe reacting in horror, what more could I expect her to do if a thief ran off with my laptop?

That train of thought led me to realize this: when someone asks you to watch her things, she doesn’t mean she wants you to literally keep an eye on them. What she’s asking you to do is make sure no one tries to take her stuff while she’s off squatting over a smelly urinal or whatever. But what if, in your attempt to keep suspicious-looking people away, someone actually takes the very thing you agreed to watch?

I’ll use an example. Let’s say I’m at school 45 minutes early because I have miscalculated how long it would take me to travel 3 miles (note to self: I do not have to leave my place an hour early) am super enthusiastic about my education. I end up sitting in the classroom by myself for about 20 minutes before a fellow student shows up. I have never spoken to this person before, and yet she asks me if I would watch her purse for her while she is away. I agree to do help her out because I figure: it’s not like I’m doing anything or going anywhere anytime soon, so what’s the harm in watching her purse for her? Plus, it’ll give me something to do to with the 25 minutes left before class starts. Damn my super-enthusiasm!

Being on Stuff-Watching Duty, I’m required to keep this purse safe from being stolen. If a suspicious-looking person gets too close for comfort, however, the most I’d probably do is give a verbal warning.

Yes, I imagine suspicious-looking individuals to look like Mayor McCheese.

But what if Mayor McCheese ignores my warning and runs off with the purse? Am I supposed to chase after him and get it back? I wouldn’t expect anyone to do that for me but, for all I know, I could be the only person who feels that way. And then I’d be held responsible for letting a scary, walking cheeseburger steal someone’s purse.

To avoid the possibility of confusion, I’ve decided to make strangers who want me to be on Stuff-Watching Duty sign disclaimer forms. The form will let them know that I am limiting my duty to verbal warnings, and will not be responsible if any Mayor McCheeses choose not to pay attention to my existence.