Archive | Stupid People RSS feed for this section

Kids Suck… but It’s Our Own Fault

7 Feb

ImageMy “man friend” (that’s what I call him because “boyfriend” is the most cliche and terrifying word to someone who is afraid of commitment… ever… FYI)  the other day was discussing having children … and once the smelling salts kicked in and I crawled off the floor and ingested a couple glasses of red wine… I got to thinking.

I started looking around at all the children and instead of scowling I tried to be unbiased. Key word tried. But honestly!! after paying attention to the coming generations… I’m not sure I want to live in this world much less bring in additional sufferers.

What in the hell are we doing to our children today?? When did this bullshit of everyone is equal and a winner come to fruition? I think NOT. Participation trophy’s and no child left behind and child services at every corner waiting to sweep your offspring to foster homes is completely out of control. In the words of Will McAvoy (if you haven’t watched HBO’s the Newsroom… you NEED to) America is NOT the greatest country in the world anymore and with great reason.

My parents hit me and you know what… I’m still alive! Ta DA! Sure it was unpleasant when it happened… But I don’t have any scars… not even emotional ones… those came from elsewhere. But you know what I do have? Respect for authority …and character. I would have hit me too. I was a nightmare from the ages of 3- 25. I still need to be hit most days. And you know what… I lost in team sports and my lack of ability to put one foot in front of the other left me to be the last person picked in dodge ball. I didn’t cry. I found something I was good at so I could feel proud of myself. I worked harder at things that I was mediocre at. I excelled in school because it set me apart from my peers. It gave me a niche. It made me work to feel a sense of accomplishment… What is that?!

This hand holding and coddling ridiculousness is creating a generation of pussies… yeah I said it PUSSIES…  who aren’t going to be able to take care of themselves, much less be contributing members of society. They are going to fill out a job application (if they can even think for themselves that far) work for two hours (if they can make it that long) and be waiting with their hand out for a golden trophy and a pat on the back.

YEAHHHH RIIIIGHHHTT.

This is not the world I want to be in much less bring someone else in it. I’ll hit my kid for saying ‘shit’ at the age of 3 cause they heard it on TV (or from me) and because they threw a temper tantrum in the supermarket cause I wouldn’t buy them a candy bar and a second Ipad … and then we’ll all be in jail.

No thank you.

I think I’d rather move to Mars. I hear it’s nice there.

Hey, Nice Couch

6 Feb

Image

They say in relationships what you put up with is what you will get.

When it comes to straddling the ever lowering fence of getting to know one another over dinner and theatre dates to being in a “normal” relationship how long should you climb?

When the beginning “dating” period is over and as a couple you are becoming more comfortable with one another when is the appropriate time to say “whatever” and give up on the planning and beautifying anxiety ridden preparations? I understand its the natural progression of relationships… but shouldn’t there be a little bit left for some in-public shenanigans?

As a female in America fighting for respect and any kind of romance or sparkle daily, when is the right time to give up the fancy fight and say f**K it… allowing your significant other to become ultimately lazy letting the “relationship” period pull its dark hood over your coupledom’s head?

Is this something to fight for? Or is it really just acceptable to waive your white flag and start making nightly dinners followed by Netflix movies and late night romcom’s followed by morning scrambled eggs?

As Valentine’s approaches I realize that oftentimes when you are “supposed” to be going out due to a national holiday… or hallmark coming out as a drug user of steroids… I wonder should we continue to expect someone to WANT to bring on the sparkle for all of time… or are sweatpants and takeout food just the normal sequence of events? I can’t help but want to fight the urge of such a thing known as comfort… just to keep the special. Perhaps if not avoiding the monotony of TV and couple supermarket trips means that you have made it in the quest of relationships and dating. Instinctly, I want to pull a mulligan and resign from the game. On this path… the only next logical move is farting in bed and tweezing each other’s eyebrows. Or perhaps, it is worth the fight to keep the fantasy… at least one night a week? As women isn’t that what it’s all about? Being single for most of my life, I appreciate the fun and glitter of dating and making plans and having something to look forward to.

However, if examining oneanother’s boogers and foot cramps really is the reality of the situation, I’d rather keep my reality to Keeping Up with the Kardashians and become a serial first dater… until I’ve reached Betty White status at least.

I guess thank gawd for Match.com and Ben and Jerry’s.

Here come the snuggies. *le sigh

So let’s talk about first impressions.

13 Sep

My days on a college campus are several. And one thing that seems to be getting carried away is the lack of complete self-respect when it comes to presenting yourself in a positive light.

I realize sweats and gym clothes and flip-flops and UGGs (ugh) and generally looking like you rolled out of bed, are going through a divorce, your cat just died, or you have been swallowed into a vat of heaping depression is the “look” these days for most 18-22 year olds… and beyond on a campus. Congratulations. Reallll original. Said no one ever.

This trend is also seeping into daily life,  going out gear, and especially the go-to shopping uniform. But COME ON!

Do you realize that people make their first impression of you as a human being within the first 5 seconds of meeting you and that impression is based 90% on what you have decided to put on your body?

This is a SERIOUS issue that many young girls and boys (and older boys and girls… I do not discriminate based on age only outfits) are not taking seriously. Why would you want to put the impression out there that you are lazy, have zero taste, and generally have no respect regarding your appearance or the rest of the world that is going to have to see you? My eyes are burning!

Thus leading to an even bigger challenge of having to overcome that first impression in a future situation that you may want or NEED to be taken seriously or may be looking to benefit from the relationship. That hurdle to overcome a first impression is like a high jumper in the Olympics highest goal to overcome. And odds are you will be face-planting onto the pole nose first.

It is much easier to present yourself in a professional and adult manner in the beginning… and then run yourself into the ground by sticking your foot in your mouth or telling an off-color joke or bringing up politics later that will effectively ruin your image just as well (I have NO experience THAT whatsoever so don’t even ask…….)

People get it together. If you want to be taken seriously in a world where image is everything and jobs and future survival is not as easy as it looks on reality TV, you need to be taking the steps in daily life to set yourself up for networking and opportunities in the future. Pretty sure no one ever made it big with a sloppy bun and a hoodie sweatshirt. (Unless you put out… then maybe. 😉 )

Plus, if everyone is wearing the exact hideousness then how are you setting yourself apart from the crowd? Oh, wait, you aren’t. And no one is ever going to take you seriously or remember you. EVER.

Welcome to reality where the judgements are fast and harsh and the judges are around every corner.

Nature SUUUUCCCCKKKKSSSS.

27 Jun

When did nature become a novelty for mankind? Didn’t we construct all these buildings and invent cars, electricity, and TV as well as develop the process of identification and exercise videos so we wouldn’t have to go back into nature? But for some reason people think it’s awesome to be “one” with nature… with a carload full of crap that you have to put together and set-up amongst the poisonous plants, rabid animals, and abundant insect kingdoms.

Nature has rejected me since as long as I can remember. More than rejected me. It kicks my ass and packs my bags for me.

As a white girl, with long eyelashes I can bat at a moments notice, the only violence and discrimination I have ever experienced has been in nature.

I almost lost a foot… and my mind… to 6 summers of consecutive life threatening Poison Ivey. (Although, it did get me out of church camp, which was OKAY!! with me. I’ve never been a fan of organized anything…too many rules, chants, and activities. I HATE activities. And I especially hate chants. Chants remind me of why people go on shooting rampages.)  I’ve been on numerous bouts of steroids from spider bites. I usually can bet there is a snake that with the slightest nibble will kill me instantly nearby, and the sunburns are endless.

Much to my dismay, I was raised in nature. Horses, land, gardens, chickens, the full enchilada. Go figure. So it’s been a 24/7/365 battle since I was born.

My father used to take me on painful canoe trips which would involve me talking in high pitch wails as I tried to use my negative muscle mass and defeated mental capacity to simultaneously maneuver us through the water whilst trying not to drown, be engulfed by what was under the water, and not die from whatever was gonna bite me above the water. While he watched. Needless to say I was not a happy “camper.”

Our family camp trips ended up with the four of us piling into the van ¼ mile away from home wishing we were dead.

So maybe I come by this honestly?

However, there is no “quit” in quitter… wait a second….

So I decided this summer I was going to defeat nature.

This was a stupid ambition.

20 minutes into attempt #1, the high pitched wailing had commenced.

I don’t understand this concept of float trips. People pay a lot of money to float down a piss infused river trying to avoid all the white trash drunken idiots that cannot control the fact that they should not be set free in this environment… they should be caged in a zoo… and they should not be allowed to produce cubs. It’s like an episode of Man Vs. Wild, but Bear Grills is nowhere in sight to make it “Bear-able.” 😉

 The only thing good about nature is fire. But you can build a fire… in air conditioning… with mosquito nets strung about wherever necessary.

Even after my 6 hour hell ride down the worst roller coaster ever invented, we were done. Thank God.

Let the fire portion commence.

However, nature was not done with me. I woke up with a lip the size of Asia and numerous other swollen appendages. The swelling was moving to my throat. I looked like I had been in a bar brawl with a gang of ginormous bikers that the only thing they hated in this world was blonde girls with long eyelashes that bat them whenever danger erupts.

I got the hell out of dodge and consumed enough Benadryl to kill a small dog.

After my 48 hour Benadryl coma, I only had the emotional scars to prove it. And thus decided to take a stab at it the next weekend…

Cause the first run was so much fun. Duh.

2nd time was way worse. I was attacked by the most horrific wild animal of all of them: Douchebags. Be VERY wary of this creature. They can yeild their revenous heads at a moments notice.

Douchebags should not be allowed around me. I have too much negative muscle mass I’m willing to throw around coupled with a harsh vocabulary.

After 6 more hours of hell, wondering why I did this to myself… again. I was dunked in the piss infused water by douchebag #1. I would have cold-cocked him with my paddle…if he would have let go of it. And instead decided to punch/slap (it’s a skill) him in the face and call him an abomination… annnndddd then attack his lazy eye condition.

PERHAPS I reacted unfavorably.  I’m waiting for the court order.

And I think I was really just taking it out on Mother Nature and her silly existence in my once well furnished, temperature controlled, sparkling porcelain toileted, and technology ridden world.

 That bitch burned me, bit me, and dirtied all of me. (Speaking of dirty…why do people even bother taking showers while camping? Like it’s gonna help washing off the outdoors when you’re STILL IN the outdoors. It’s like wearing a maroon polyester suit to …anything… ever… unless you are Napoleon Dynamite. It’s a waste of time.)  

Nature had a round two waiting for me. I woke up to rain and seriously poor engineering of our tent. I was ready to NEVER enter nature again. And have never packed faster in my life. Thankfully, I wasn’t SERIOUSLY bit (due to my Lynus-esque cloud of bug spray and my ingenious ability to wear 6 layers including a hood, gloves and knee socks… in 90 degree weather)… but I was emotionally scarred forever. Again.

 And thus brings us to my declaration of an indoors only policy from now on. (I would rather be herding chickens.)

 Who’s with me??

Get me a baseball bat and Jennifer Aniston. STAT.

15 Jun

When did Office Space the movie become a reality in American workplaces? (And why aren’t we all as good-looking as Jennifer Aniston?!? Scam.)

 I’ve had more jobs than I’ve had haircuts and the more “experience” I get the dumber I feel and the closer I am to taking a baseball bat to the entire building… and then the world.

 When did people become so stupid??

We wonder why America is flailing and failing…

It might be due to the number of dumbasses in charge of the coffee pots and fax machines.

In my office we actually have TWO!!!! TWO!!!!  automated warnings (one at the top of the flight of stairs and then one at the bottom 16 stairs later in case you freaking forgot in the last 5 seconds) that tells you in a cheap Siri-style voice to watch your step and hold on to the railing as you pass… cause you know some fat idiot in ugly shoes freaking fell down the stairs and broke their face… and tried to sue… cause they didn’t want to admit… their shoes were ugly… and cause that’s what you do. Sue the bastards is the answer to everything these days. (Because we… naturally…LOVE unnecessary paperwork as an entire society. It’s in our blood. Passed down from the Viking generations… of the late 1200’s… B.C.)  

I have made a game trying to go up and down the stairs faster than the automated bitch can keep up with her warnings.

I have discovered all this is helping is to lift my ass …and up my dosage of crazy pills.

And don’t get me started with the printers and faxes and scanners! These pieces of crap are designed that way so the IT guy has something to do in between hacking into people’s computers to spy on what they had for lunch and listening to the New Kids on the Block Pandora station, dreaming of what could have been if he sang better and had less of a knack for ink cartridges and Microsoft Outlook tips.

Our printer is almost as fast as a 15-year-old tripping on acid trying to plow a field, plant corn, and watch it grow!

Almost.

I feel like we have all decided to just put up with all the shittiness because “hey!” there’s nothing better to do and those 8 hours a day aren’t gonna dick around themselves… might as well spend the time really making an impact on the world and bettering ourselves…

…one useless 60+ email chain at a time.

Shit Goes Down.

28 Mar

So I’ve been a lot of places and seen a lot of things. My morning commute today was one for the books.

Barely awake, rushing to my last Spanish class (thankthelord), and looking for any one of the million Starbucks without a line out the door, I encountered the definition of HORRIFIC.

I was on Gran Via… a street similar to Broadway in New York City… when shit went down. And when I say shit went down, I mean in the most literal of all senses. I’m doing my morning Pac-Man zig-zag through the masses and during my zag I look to the right in anticipation of coffee and see a homeless man.

A homeless man pulling down his pants.

Ok this isn’t as shocking to me… that stuff happens more often than you would think… I was just really thankful he had on pants at all… but then came the sound of his shit hitting the pavement… and it was juicy. Killmenow. I have never before wished my Mary Poppins carpet-bag contained a full size ceramic toilet and an entire package of double roll 100,000 ply Charmin more.

WE AREN’T IN CHINA! I once saw a woman holding her child over a trash can in Beijing while he… did his business. Oh what I wouldn’t give to go back to that simpler time.

Today was much more traumitizing.

Can’t you at least find a park or a deserted ally to do your business…not in center city in front of Burger King and the rest of normal society BEFORE I’ve had my freaking coffee!!

Toto, we aren’t in Kansas anymore.

I’m gonna go throw up, need a therapist, and need to figure out a way to invent a pocket-sized port-a-potty for future encounters.

The end of the world one orange oompa loompa at a time.

29 Feb

Snooki might be pregnant.

Lord have mercy on us all.

Everyone say an extra prayer that this rumor is false. The last thing ANYWHERE needs is more orange fist pumping oompa loompas.

Some people should not be allowed to reproduce. It’s a fact. I include myself in this category, so it’s not discrimination.

Poor Poor kid. Can social services be called before the egg has hatched? I’ll Google it.

Maybe the world is going to end.

Hawt Bathroom.

1 Dec

What is the fascination with Facebook + self-portraits + bathrooms. This combination is not a good one, but a popular one nonetheless that has caught on quicker than fashion dies here jeggings and the cancer kills microwave cake (which is surprisingly delicious BTW).

If your “friends” wanted to see your bathroom, they would come over and ask to use it. I don’t need to see you shirtless next to a toilet flexing your muscles or sucking in your F.U.P.A. I can only imagine what happened 5 minutes before that photo-op… The possibilities are endless…and they most likely end with 1 or 2? Gross.

If the self-portrait HAS to happen, can’t someone at least try getting creative and start taking the narcissism to a more classy level? Like self-portraits of yourself loading the dishwasher or posing in front of the fireplace or toasting a strudel or changing a lightbulb. At least then I know you either are A) a neat and tidy self-obsessed person/photo-taker B) a self-obsessed person/photo-taker with excellent taste in instant breakfast C) a self-obsessed person/photo-taker who is actively trying to achieve premium lighting or D) a self-obsessed person/photo-taker who likes fire. (Please, please let it be D!!!) 😉

In any case ALL of those say way more than I’m a self-obsessed person/photo-taker who just took a crap and has zero to negative one million decorating skills.

Thanks.

PS Turn the freaking flash off and tidy up the sink!

…and then put some clothes on a get a hobby.

Splitsville in Cougarcity.

17 Nov

So the rumors are true.

Talk about a fulfilling prophecy.

Shortly after taking on his new, playboy-esque role, Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore have announced their split.

Can I get an amen??

Maybe this will end the cougar obsession of middle-aged women. (One moment while I cross all my fingers… and toes)

Also, Ashton is a total douche, which he has most recently shown through Twitter and his half-ass job in reviving Two and a Half Men. (Which would be better with 1 1/2… or ZERO!)

And Demi, I’m convinced, is a never-aging alien who should just be put on display and dissected by scientists to understand her secret fountain of flawless bikini-ness.

I can’t believe the Kabalalahahaha marriage counseling classes didn’t work.

Mazel Tov you two!

PS

Team Bruce all the way.

You have a fiance???? I was hoping you would say that.

10 Nov

Raise your hand if you have ever been cheated on. Now raise your hand if you have ever been the cheater. Now raise your hand if you’ve ever been the “other” person with the cheater.

Raise them high. I don’t see any…

Liars.

Cheating is becoming a very prominent characteristic to our…world. People do it. People are victims of it, many times unaware of the situation.

But what are the rules when it comes to being an active participant in a scandalous affair that you didn’t even know existed? People are crafty in their secrets and forgetting you had a girlfriend/boyfriend, fiance, wife/husband seems to be an easy detail to “slip” some people’s minds… “Oh yeah, that ring on my finger is a promise ring… the promise I would find someone as amazing as you… and that day has finally come”…. 3 months later… “Oh, by the way…” Holy awkward conversation.

In the aftermath, however, what steps are to be taken if you yourself have been a victim of cheating on someone without your knowledge? Do you become active in letting the innocent party know, crushing happily ever after dreams and destroying a stranger’s life?  Or do you just let it all go and hope it all comes out eventually… maybe they are even aware of the “situation” they have signed up for? Perhaps you just pick up the phone or “accidentally run-into them” and chit-chat about the weather until the truth vomit takes over (then you can be best friends forever after… awwww)? What does that make you? Crazy. It makes you crazy.

Unknowingly being the other person poses several morality issues and ethical dilemmas that oftentimes were never even asked for. Being thrust into such a sticky situation possibly makes you a victim, too… right? 

I think there is a right and wrong in this situation, but how do you right a wrong situation when you don’t even know the person who needs to be righted or how the situation got so wrong to begin with? You were just having a nice crazy, quiet drunk girls night out to celebrate the Christmas season minding your own business and BAM! the devil in a single person’s clothing  most amazing person you ever met came out of NOWHERE and decided to help you in obtaining your “holiday cheer.”  Does that make you innocent? And are you wronging the wronged by offering up information that is going to shatter their once flawless relationship existence?  

I hate you life.

I’m going with the answer to all this gray area is “Karma’s a bitch.”

PS All the above is completely made up and fictional and strictly inquisitive and there is no possible way I would know anything at all about such a horrible and tragic topic that I would not wish on anyone. ANYONE! *facepalm

%d bloggers like this: