Posts Tagged ‘angry’

One of the good guys

Friday, November 21st, 2008

I'm a man…

Who has always, since being a teen, had more female friends than male friends.

Who might have had, in high school, a bad case of unrequited love, but never acted on it.

Who has always been there for many friends, day or night, to lend an ear.

Who is essentially one of the girls when it comes to gossip or hanging out.

Who slowly gained a greater understanding of how women think than most men.

Who has always gotten to know a side of some friends that their boyfriends or spouses rarely experience.

Who has gotten to know some friends better than their boyfriends or spouses ever would.

Who puts most women up on a pedestal as being worth it, all of the time.

Who has always been willing to sacrifice some dignity or pride for someone else's happiness.

Who can see past the blemishes and chips to the beauty inside.

Who cannot understand how most men think, especially when it comes to how they treat women.

Who gets infuriated with the feeling of being powerless when a friend isn't getting what she needs and deserves to flourish.

Who sometimes really hates men.

Babysitting

Wednesday, February 13th, 2008

One of my regular blog reads is Oh, the Joys. She had a post yesterday about boys babysitting her daughter.

Here's the pertinent part of that post, quoted verbatim:

Later, after listening to me drone on about the mundane ups and downs of finding a baby sitter, a male friend said,

“Aren’t you worried about a boy babysitting your daughter?”

“What?” I said. “What do you mean? What are you talking about?”

He was talking about the potential abuse of my daughter.

See my innocence smashed to bits there on the floor?

Honestly, nothing like that had occurred to me.

Nothing that disgusting had even crossed my mind.

She concluded the post by asking for insight, perspective, and opinions. And you know what? Reading the comments just cemented my belief that some people are fucking morons.

I can understand a parent being hesitant about having anyone babysit, male or female. I can understand someone who had been abused feeling skittish about leaving their child alone with someone else. What I cannot understand, however, is a parent who would hire a female babysitter but refuses to even consider a male babysitter. And I saw several comments from close-minded women who have no problem making this decision. These are the type of parents who I'm sure will fill their children's heads with racist stereotypes and fearmongering.

Their reasons? Complete and utter bullshit.

Reason #1: Most molesters are men.

Well, no shit, fucknut. So are almost all rapists. And serial killers. And even murderers. This is what's known as a syllogistic fallacy. Just because men are molesters and your babysitter might be male does NOT mean that your babysitter is a molester.

Since almost all rapists are men, does this mean that you'll never let a boy date your daughter?
Since almost all serial killers are men, does this mean that you'll never let a man work with your daughter or talk to her?
Since almost all molesters are men, what happens when your girl babysitter has her boyfriend come visit?

I know! Why don't you create such an environment of fear that boys are assumed to be molesters just because they have a penis? That's an awesome idea. Why don't you just transfer all of your petty paranoia and stupidity to your children so that they're just as fucked up as you?

Here's something else to think about. If you treat someone like something that they're not, eventually they will become that something.

Reason #2: Boys are more hormonal than girls and their brains make them do strange things.

Bullfuckingshit. Find me a boy who lets his little head do the talking, and I'll show you a girl who has recently discovered that her body can convince boys to do whatever she wants. I'll speak in small words here, so see if you can follow along. The goal is to find someone who will know right from wrong even with hormones running wild. See? How hard was that?

Reason #3: Girls are more nurturing than boys.

I babysat from when I was 11 until I was 18. I was an excellent sitter. I watched boys and girls from six months old to 11-12 years old. I changed diapers, made dinner, helped with homework, put the kids to bed, and cleaned up. Some of the kids were family, some weren't. And I got asked back to be the sitter time and time again, because I was the only sitter that the parents liked. The girl sitters? Would sit on the phone all night, have their boyfriends over, and do a piss-poor job of actually taking care of the kids.

Splitting the ability to nurture and care along gender lines is the same thing as expecting all Asians to be good at math, all blacks to be good as basketball, and all Germans to be Nazis. It's a shitty perspective.


It's all about making smart decisions, not stupid fucking choices based on bad information, faulty logic, and fear. You should never assume that a girl babysitter is going to be awesome and you should never assume a boy babysitter is going to fucking molest your child. Anyone, male or female, that watches your child should be someone that you can trust, and you should do your due diligence in making sure your child is in good hands. Simply choosing to eliminate male babysitters from the equation, though, is stupid, ignorant, and sets the worst type of example for your child to follow.

In conclusion, don't be a fucking douchey cunt. The End.

**P.S. Let me say that most of the commenters were intelligent and logical and said things like "you should figure that out on a case-by-case basis". But it was the fucking idiots like Imhelendt who supported this completely illogical and irrational perspective.

**P.P.S. ARRRGGHHHHH I hate ignorant people.

What the everloving fuck?

Thursday, December 6th, 2007

Before you get to today's post, don't forget to go into the comments of yesterday's and ask me a question!


The information about my actual business has been changed to protect my stupidly retarded clients.

Okay, so let's say you own a business that sells cyberskin vaginas that are warm to the touch and very realistic and almost indistinguishable from the real thing. And let's say that you're so confident in the quality of your vaginas that you actually guarantee that it's the most realistic fake vagina they'll ever feel or they get a full refund.

How frustrated would you be if you had the following telephone conversations?

One week earlier:

BRRRRIIIINNNNNGGGGG!!!!

Me: Vaginator, Inc, for the times you're in a rush for snatch you can't match. How can I help you?

Idiot Retard Dipshit with the Brains of a Cow with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome (IRDBCFAS): Hi, yes. I wanted to find out more about how I can take advantage of the vaginas you have available.

Me: Well, sir, I can definitely help you with that. Have the vaginas you've been finding in the real world not met your needs?

IRDBCFAS: No, not at all. Some are stinky, some are the wrong color, and one was actually a butthole in disguise. I really need a vagina, though, and I need one fast. I really need to get myself into a nice, cozy vagina within the next eight months.

Me: No problem! Our custom vagina service, called Just Twat You're Looking For, is designed with you in mind. We'll custom-make a vagina that is perfect to your liking and fits your needs and penis like the love glove you've needed. It only takes about three weeks to create, and we offer a full, money-back guarantee if it's not vagtastic!

IRDBCFAS: Oh, that sounds wonderful! I've been trying poor substitutes, like two pieces of lettuce that I microwave, a jar of peanut butter, and three hairbrushes taped together, but nothing's been satisfying my need for a better fake vajayjay.

Me: We definitely provide the best one out there. Our cost is about $4,000, but since the government wants you to try all the pussy you can, it's tax deductible, and once again, we guarantee it! Penis happiness, we call it.

IRDBCFAS: Well, it's a lot of money, but I really need to find myself a vagina soon, or I'm out of luck. Can I think about it for a few days? I've got a meeting with two of the smelly ones and the butthole later, but I really need my own fresh, clean vagina that I can take home to my mother.

Me: Absolutely. I'll follow up in a few days. Have a vaginamazing day!

Four days later:

Me: Hi, IRDBCFAS? It's Adam from Vaginator. Just following up after we talked about your need for an excellent artificial cock box.

IRDBCFAS: Hm? Oh yeah, I remember. Sorry, but I decided to go with the butthole.

Me: You did? But I thought you wanted a vagina?

IRDBCFAS: I was a bit worried about not finding a good vagina in the next eight months, so I just went with the butthole.

Me: You do understand that I could have presented you with a freshly made vagina ready for penile gymnastics within three weeks, and I would have guaranteed your satisfaction, right? And even though you wanted a vagina, you're going to go with a butthole?

IRDBCFAS: Yeah, well, I won't go with the butthole forever. Just for a little while.

Me: But . . . but . . . I . . . you . . . vagina . . . guarantee . . . cock . . . pussy . . . retard . . . head . . . exploding . . . PLOOOOOMPH.

'Tis too fucking early

Monday, October 22nd, 2007

Woke up. Went to breakfast. Asked the screaming baby at the table next to us to shut the fuck up. Urge to kill increased. Returned angry looks to parents. Came home.

Watched TV. Put together karaoke machine for Halloween party. Sang "Like a Virgin". Danced a little.

Answered work phone. Talked to client. Explained our product 14 times. Called client retard subtly. Urge to kill increased more. Wrote aggressive email to client in simple English.

Took shower. Accidentally used dog's shampoo. Urge to kill increased more. Used correct shampoo. Smelled like BBW 3-in-1 Cinnamon Bun. Urge to kill faded.

Stepped outside. Started sweating immediately. Urge to kill increased. Drove to Home Depot. Got stuck behind old woman who straddled the lanes. Urge to kill increased more. Parked in spot where trucks overlapped parking lines. Dinged truck door. Urge to kill increased more.

Stepped into Home Depot. Assaulted with cacophony of Christmas melodies, Christmas trees, decorations, and huge Christmas section. Urge to kill increased more. Heard retard woman singing along with Christmas melodies. Urge to kill overwhelmed. Killed everyone. Blew up the world. The End.