by Carefull Thinking on June 19th, 2009
When was the last time a homeless individual had to spend their entire weekend cleaning their home? In essence, homeless people have the most freedom. Without a home, they meander throughout the city of Wausau, and impose both bum fights and spontaneous dialogue on that one dog that hangs out by the hydrant on Thomas Street. I envy their lack of responsibility. Come April 15th, whose the one who has to worry about how many times they are going to be #%@# over by the IRS?
Not the homeless person; I am the one who has to worry about getting ruined by the federal government. Here’s an idea…..GET OFF THE GRID PEOPLE. Use the free wi fi whenever humanly possible, refuse to pay taxes, hunt for your own food, and brew your own liquor. Peace to the mother plane, and realize that no red flags should be raised by this submission to citizen wausau.
by Carefull Thinking on August 12th, 2008
Within the last couple months I have gotten increasingly enraged with Scott Street and the people that drive on it. Not the entire road, but a certain section of it. A small five block range of Scott Street, to be exact. Anyone who has driven down that stretch of road, especially when its a busy time of the day, will understand.
When someone parks on that street, they are close to the outside lanes, causing the people driving in the outside lanes to not drive with a little leeway on either side of them, but closer to the middle lane. Sometimes even up to a foot or two into the middle lane. That is increasingly horrible when its a semi, one of the many city buses, or even just a big pickup truck. Not to mention when someone in the parked cars opens their door in complete defiance to anyone that is still driving, with said door proudly in one of the outside lanes.
With this picture, you can clearly see that when cars are parked on Scott Street are directly on the outside border of the outside lanes. The bright white line is edited in to show you the outisde of the lanes, and to show how close the cars are to the outside lanes. They are so close to the lane that whenever you drive, you have to move a little towards the inside lane. When its busy time of the day, you risk running into whatever vehicle is in the middle lane. Even just staying in the middle lane is dangerous. Especially when its a bigger vehicle.
Sure, taking a different street is an option, and so is traveling at another time. Getting out into a busy street from a stop sign is near impossible, and sometimes you don’t have a choice of time. Straight down Scott Street is the fastest way to go, whether or not you could possibly get hit. Hopefully, maybe, possibly something can be done to remedy the awful parking situation.
by Carefull Thinking on June 11th, 2008
1848, the year the downfall started. Ever since then, we’ve been stinking up the air with cows, paper mills, and that one cheese (you know which one you are). I have thought long about this, and my thoughts are that Wisconsin is the worst state in this country.
Walk down any street, in any city, town, village. You will be greeted with staring, sneers, and maybe even pointing. Every encounter I have had with random people have ended up being uncomfortable, and downright strange to the point of me almost being scared for myself.
A true short story. I was driving in Steven’s Point. My cell phone battery had died, so I couldn’t call anyone up for directions. I was on my way to to pick up a friend and go to the Point Brewery. We stopped at agas station for directions. The lady behind the counter stared at me, as if i told her a complex calculus proof. The guy behind us, waiting to purchase items chirped in with, “Ya dunno where it is? Are ya some kinda stupid?.” That guy proceeded to shake his head, buy his items, and walk out of the store.
We both slowly walked out of the store, got in the car, and sped off. They were unfriendly, and almost spiteful. Where had this city gone wrong? We didn’t feel like taking a chance and asking anyone else, so we drove continuously up and down main roads. Finally after a considerable amount of time we found the brewery.
Could they not understand we did not live in Steven’s Point? Could they hear us? Could they even comprehend the most basics of the english language? We were both polite, correct enunciation, dressed conservatively. What had brought the people here into such an intelligence sink hole? Maybe they could take some sort of learning courses to interact with other humans, a language that isn’t just grunts and squeals.
All over this state, the people act the same. Never the same type of encounter, like lightening, never the same twice, but always out to hurt. So I say to everyone that is listening, reading, watching, be sure you turn into some hateful, mean, arrogant jerk when in this state. You just might need it to converse with its citizens.