Up Yours, Holidays

11 12 2010

It’s December 11th and I’ve already been assaulted by Christmas music every time I walk into a store for a month and tacky decorations covering my neighbors’ lawns whenever I look out my window.

No, I don’t have a tree up. No, I haven’t bought a single gift. Why? 1. I have no money. Yeah, the toilet scrubbing job fell through. 2. I don’t give a fuck. SPOILER ALERT: God’s not real. So, I don’t really care about the religious connotations. But let’s face it, that’s not what it’s about anymore anyway. My kid has enough cheaply made plastic, lead paint covered toys to overflow a landfill when I chuck them into the trash because he won’t pick them up off the damned floor already, thanks.

And I’ve already gained enough fat on my ass this year that I don’t really need another excuse to eat 5,000 calories a day.

Also, if I really gave a shit about my friends and family, they would know it every month of the year. Not just when I go out and buy them the cheapest but most expensive looking useless gift I can find at the last minute.

The materialism and greed makes me want to projectile vomit eggnog.

Happy Holidays!





You’re a Wha…?

22 04 2010

I’m a member of an online community of 20something Bloggers (even though I don’t have the badge up because WordPress sucks and I haven’t made my own html graphic yet like I did for my Facebook fan box, which was a waste of time for my whopping two fans. Update: 3 fans! Woohoo Kristen Brumm!)

Anyway…

Recently there was a topic posted in the forums about 20something virgins. Personally I was shocked at how many spoke up to say that they too, were strangers to the s-e-x at ages like 20, 24 or 26.

Now, I have no problem with people choosing not to have sex. I haven’t known what it was like to be a virgin since the tender age of 14, so it’s pretty difficult for me to imagine it at the age of 20 or 24. But, theoretically, it’s not something I’m going to oppose.

What does irk me is the preoccupation that so many virgins seem to have with their own sexual status. They feel the need to inform people of their choice and then watch for a negative reaction so that they can report back to the others that they were outcast and victimized.

Bottom line, if you choose to remain a virgin until you’re married, or until you’re 40, or whatever it is that you’re waiting for, and you feel the need to make it your prime goal in life to talk about it, don’t complain when some people react badly. You are the one defining yourself by your sexual preferences, the recipient of your revelation is only following suit. And that, in my opinion is the opposite of social progress.

Whether or not you have sex does not make you who you are. Which gender you prefer sexually does not make you who you are. Your nose hook fetish does not make you who you are (favorite search engine term of the week. Sorry to disappoint you, random Googler). If you let these things define you, then you are no better than the person judging you for them.

In the year 2010, I would think people could let go of things like the virgin label. Who cares?

Sex is a mere physical act between two animals. Basing your worth (and others) as a person on something so petty is beyond my understanding. As are many things lately.





You’re super nice. Let’s not be friends.

13 04 2010

I consider myself to be a good person overall.

Stop laughing.

I’m polite to strangers. If I’m not in a bad mood I’ll probably stop to help you pick up your dropped groceries. I won’t even complain (out loud) when you proclaim, “God bless you” afterward.

If you’re an acquaintance or above, I’ll listen to you talk about topics I am not remotely interested in. I’ll give all the appropriate “Oh wow”s and “uh huh”s.

If you’re lucky enough (I said stop laughing) to be one of the elite few I call my closest friends, I’ll likely do anything within my power to help you out. I’ll give up my time and energy even to my own detriment.

However, I wouldn’t necessary call myself nice.

[Janeane Garafalo- not sweet (but awesome)]

Obviously, I enjoy vulgar language. I mean, I’m no Crazy Brunette Chick, but I have my moments, and quite frequently.

I make fun of people mercilessly, mostly behind their backs.

I don’t sugarcoat it when things (or people) suck, and that includes parenting and marriage.

I could be a professor of sarcasm. You know, “Anger’s ugly cousin.”

If you find yourself constantly described as “so nice!”, “really nice” or “sweet”, you don’t want to hang out with me. And frankly, I don’t want to be your friend.

[Jessica Simpson- sweet]

If you’ve never referred to your kid as a “little fucker”…

If you’ve never had the joy of laughing until you cry or piss your pants over making fun of some dumbass with  your friends…

If you refuse to discuss religion or politics for fear that you may offend someone…

If your primary topics of conversation include how cute your kid’s song about poop is, how wonderful your husband is or how beautifully clean and organized your home is….

we are not a good match. I will always wonder what the fuck is going on inside that nice head of yours.

I will be looking forward to the day when you snap and develop a second personality ala Me, Myself and Irene.

So, rock on with your nice self. Somewhere ese. And I will probably mock you behind your back. Because we all know that when no one is around, you’re screaming “fuck you, douchebag!” right along with the rest of us.





If You Have to Ask

7 04 2010

Hey baby, what’s your sign?

Your life path number?

Your MB personality type?

What is it about people that makes us want to be categorized?

I have been fascinated by astrology since childhood, and have been awed by the accuracy of mine and some of my friends and family member’s natal charts.

I have been to psychics. I’ve had palm and tarot readings.

Maybe numbers hold the key? Or face-reading.

Chinese astrology?

When I was pre-teen I was briefly obsessed with handwriting analysis.

What does it mean that I am an INTP Capricorn Rat with a Life path Number 3 and floating irises?

I have always been one to chafe at labels, yet I continue to seek out ways to slap them on myself.

Perhaps it is easier to calculate a number, or match up a birth date, than it is to do the hard work of self discovery.

Maybe one of these occult sciences is the one we should all be listening to, while the others are nonsense.

Maybe they all have something to contribute.

It seems as much as we fight being put into boxes, we secretly want just that.

Please, someone tell me who I am. Give me an excuse for my shortcomings, and give me hope that I have innate positive traits.

Explain away why I can’t get along with that whiny Pisces or that arrogant Life Path 1.

Get out your label maker, life, and stick some on me.

Because I can’t figure this shit out on my own.





Black Heart Inertia

30 03 2010

Ever get that feeling that everyone you know is moving on to bigger things while you remain stuck motionless forever?

That eventually they will all have graduated to better lives, with better people than you in them?

And you’ll be happy for them. Really. But from afar. Because they won’t need you any more.

No?

I guess it’s just me then.





This is why I hate yourface

29 03 2010

I’m in a list kind of mood lately. If you don’t like it….well, you can suck it.

There are a few personality traits that can pretty much automatically earn you a spot on my I Hope You Die in a Fire I Don’t Want to be Your Friend, Ever list.

1. The 1-Upper

Gee, I’m really quite upset about my dog breaking her leg.”

“Try having your dog disemboweled by your legally blind neighbor’s lawn mower in front of a passing troop of Girl Scouts. Now that was upsetting!”

There is no story or concern too big or too small. They will find a way to 1-up you each and every time. I know everyone relates things to their own experiences, but it is possible to do that without minimizing the feelings of others.  All it takes is a “Oh wow, I’m really sorry that happened” to prevent being a huge douchebag and instead be a potential friend/decent human being.

2. The No-Show


Oh, how this pisses me off. Especially if you are the one who initiated the plans. If you must back out of your own plans, there are countless ways in which to notify a person of your cancellation in this day and age. Call, text, email, IM, etc. Use them, fuckface! My time may not be going for hundreds of dollars an hour lately, but it still has value to me. You are sending me a clear message that you just do not give a shit, and you can bet your inconsiderate ass that it will be noted.

3. The Racist/Homophobe/[insert ignorant douchebaggery here]

We’re all people. Get the fuck over it. At the end of the day if you can’t appreciate a person for who they are, all politics and preconceived notions aside, you are the flawed one.

4. The “Fatty”


If you are smaller than me, do not complain to me about being fat. You are calling me fat. Maybe not directly, but there is no way around it. I don’t appreciate it. I have been guilty of this one when I was young  and had not yet experienced it myself, and for that I am truly apologetic and almost wish that someone had punched me in the face.

5. The Saint

“I don’t even say ‘ass’ in front of my kids!”

“I would never have a drink with my children in the house!”

“Oh, I don’t eat the sugar.”

Well, I do. So you and your condescending gaze can fuck off. I hope it’s lonely at the top of that ladder of superiority.

As you can see, I’m still just a ray of sunshine. Back alley hysterectomy, here I come.





Five trends that make me want to stab people in the face

25 03 2010

Today is a MEH day if I’ve ever seen one. PMS is kicking my ass and I’m in constant physical pain. I’m depressed, I’m panic-inducing broke and my cat won’t stop pissing on every fucking surface she can find. Oh, and my kid is home on spring break.

Today can suck it and so can the weekend.

So, instead of boring you with more of my incessant whining, I’m going to bitch about five trends that make me want to stab the subscribers to said trends in the fucking face.

1. Everything emo.

When I was a teen we had goths. They were dark and brooding. Quietly brooding. Not the irritating, whine-ass drama queen in eyeliner bullshit that is everywhere today. Get your hair out of your goddamned eyes and shut the fuck up before I slit your wrists for you, you douchebag.

2. Repeatinggggg theeee lastttttt letterrrrr offffff wordsssss.

If you have any teen girl facebook friends you no doubt know what I’m talking about. You don’t look cool, you look like you have fucking Parkinson’s. Back away from the computer and go get back in the tanning bed, bitch.

3. Skinny jeans on fat dudes.

Not all trends are for all people. You look like an ice cream cone. And I don’t mean that in a good way AT ALL.

4. Facebook statuses that say shit like “97% of people won’t repost this.”

GOOD! That means nobody wants to fucking read the regurgitated bullshit, so don’t bother posting it. Why do people feel the need to turn everything in life into one giant fucking chain letter?

5. Leggings.

Those bitches died out after the 80’s for a reason. Because they’re fugly. Unless you’re under the age of 7, just wear some fucking pants.

The End.