Posts Tagged ‘Rants’

The Next Best Thing

Friday, August 28th, 2009

piercingThe most recent season of Top Chef has taught me something. There are too many people out there who think they have to rebel against someone. They think that they can be unique by doing the same things that everyone else who rebels is doing. And for some reason, mutilating your own body for the "lofty" goal of self-expression is the form of rebellion that these individualistic lemming group thinkers choose.

Let me be frank. I don't really understand most tattoos. Injecting ink under your skin that fades and stretches and disappears – okay, I can see doing that if you have a real message or if it really means something to you. But the people with the tribal armbands and Chinese characters that they don't understand – what's the point?

Tattoos have become so mainstream, though, that the idiots out there need to take it to a new level and start piercing. People who put such huge gauges in their ears that they physically distort a part of their body are stupid. I've seen small gauges, and I guess if that floats your boat, I think it's weird, but what the fuck ever. But to have a hole in your fucking ear so big that Dumbo could fly through it? You're trying too hard.

What's next, though? People have silicon shapes injected into their bodies, they lace up their bodies like a pair of smelly shoes, they insert large pieces of metal into any part of the body that can take them. But they're still not unique. At all. These followers are the worst of them all, because they think they're expressing themselves. What they're really doing is following the crowd. The crowd decides that everyone's gauging their ears, they do it. Everyone's piercing their cheeks . . . done. Everyone's splitting their tongues, and the line for that shop is out the door.

Be unique, you fuckleheads. Why not try some of the following activities to express your true individuality?

  1. Remove a section of your rib cage and skin and replace it with a lucite terrarium. The power for it runs in a wire along your back, plugged directly into a battery pack which has been inserted into the fatty tissue of your left butt cheek. You can choose any type of animal to put in your terrarium, but cooler animals like chameleons, snakes, poison frogs, and those moths from Silence of the Lambs are all of the rage.
  2. Some of the fattiest tissue on the human body is in the ass. Why not pierce your ass cheeks together with a large piece? This can be especially unique if you get the optional accessory that hangs off the side and can hold a roll of toilet paper.
  3. The holographic message cube can be easily programmed via USB through your computer. All you have to do is program a message just for you, using millions of colors to form complex graphics, animations, and visuals. Then use a grapefruit spoon to scoop out your eye (you choose which one), and firmly lodge the message cube in the empty socket. Make sure to add batteries before sticking it in, because it can be tricky to get it back out again.
  4. Why not let your body allow others to express themselves? Using various surgical techniques, you can have your chest from nipple to nipple to sternum removed and replaced with an Etch a Sketch, a dry erase board, or that thing with all the little pins that you can use to make your own relief art. Your message can change every day or you can allow passers by or that employer on your next interview at McDonald's to express themselves.
  5. Split tongues are so 2009. It's time to split your body. By carefully slicing your body vertically with a large machete or the handle of a paper cutter, you can create two halves of your body that you can then pierce back together using any manner of customized metalwork. For a great treat, leave a 2-3 inch gap when you put yourself together so that people can see through you! They'll think you're the coolest guy in the world!
  6. The final way for you to be individualistic and not follow the crowd is to travel to the rural areas of China to practice head switching. A poorly trained surgeon will sever your head and an appendage of your choice and swap them! Imagine having your head resting on your right arm while your hand waves to you from the comfort of your neck stump. Cool, huh?

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Posted in Rants | 91 Comments »

Let's talk about theme park etiquette

Monday, November 24th, 2008

Most people who go to theme parks would talk about all of the fun they had and post pictures they took of each other and the attractions and everybody would laugh and tralala. Not me!

Yesterday I got the chance to go to Disney's Animal Kingdom for free (thanks Carolina!) so we spent the better half of the day there. And what happened during that trip that struck me the most? Was it seeing the gorillas run around? Photographing the rhino that stood a foot from our car? Theorizing why the gibbons don't fabricate makeshift boats to escape from their island? Nope.

I was, yet again, struck by the sheer rudeness, cluelessness, and stupidity of most people on Earth. And, as the self-proclaimed King of the Internet, I decided I would create a list of rules for proper theme park etiquette that everyone should follow:

1. Don't interrupt the flow of traffic

When there are literally throngs of people simultaneously trying to reach their individual destinations, DO NOT abruptly stop in the middle of the path to look at your map, text on your phone, adjust the stroller, take a photo, talk to your spouse, or just pick your nose. I will punch you in the back of your fat fucking square-shaped mushroom of a head. If you need to stop for any reason, just walk to the side and stop there. That will prevent you from affecting and angering the thousand other people who are all trying to use the exact same path.

2. Don't block the only entrance or exit

Hey, sniveling retard. You might really need to talk to your mom, however, don't stop in the middle of a doorway that is the only way in or out of a building to have an in-depth conversation. Instead, do you think you could try to make the effort to take TWO GODDAMN STEPS BACKWARDS OR FORWARDS?

3. Use your kid leash wisely

Here's a hint for you thickheaded idiots out there who might do this. Putting your child on one of those leashes is good – it allows you to maintain control and you don't really have to be a good parent because you know your kid isn't going anywhere. Good for you. However, sitting at a bench on one side of a path and letting your little shithead run to the other side WHILE ATTACHED TO THE COCKSUCKING LEASH means that (a) someone will have to stop walking to wait for you to rein in your evil spawn, (b) someone will trip over the leash, which will make your child fall to the ground and crack his or her head open, or (c) I will stab you in your eyes with my pen.

4. Find a good spot for your photography

Douchebucket with the thousand-dollar camera: Positioning your entire family up against a wall, and then walking backwards without looking where you're going until you find a spot where you can fit in the whole scene is a great way to take a nice high-quality photo that will be a lasting memory of your family's trip to the theme park. However, doing it while HUNDREDS OF PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO WALK PAST YOU is rude, stupid, and senseless. Thank you for making all of us wait so that you can take 14 photos of your ugly fucking kids and your cockeyed, mustached troll of a creature that you must call a wife.

5. The stroller big enough for 12

If you have enough children that your stroller holds more people than my car, don't bring it to a theme park – it's just going to get in the way of every single fucking person in the park. In fact, don't come to a theme park – you can't afford it because you have too many fucking children. For fuck's sake, though, don't stay home, because then you'll probably fuck some more and pop out more kids. Go to church and pray that the angry bearded man doesn't find you.

That's it. I didn't even try to cover the etiquette in eating establishments or the need for deodorant, mouthwash, and sometimes a bag to cover your face. I just came up with five simple rules that will make everyone's trip much more pleasant. How hard could it be to follow them?

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Posted in Rants | 52 Comments »

Read Rage

Tuesday, March 11th, 2008

N.B.: If you haven't read The Appeal by John Grisham, and you plan on it, beware of spoilers ahead.

Have you ever read a book that made you mad? I'm not talking about non-fiction – not like a book about the Holocaust that makes you angry and sad all at the same time. I'm talking about fiction.

Have you ever read a fictitious novel about fictitious things and when you were done with that book, you wanted to punch the author in the back of the head?

John Grisham's a fairly transparent author. His good guys are good. His bad guys are bad. You can predict which way the ambivalent guys are going to go. This doesn't mean his books are poorly written, though. I thoroughly enjoy Grisham's novels. His books are fun to read because they explore legal issues, they build tension, the characters sound and feel real, and they usually examine some type of moral or ethical quandary.

But when I read this type of fiction, I'm not reading it to be depressed or to watch evil triumph. I want the bad guy to get some type of retribution. I want to live vicariously through the protagonists as they experience some type of success and vindication. It's cathartic and rewarding and it makes the hour or two spent reading his 400 page novel worthwhile.

After reading "The Appeal" (this applies to a lesser extent to "The Partner", as well), I didn't get that emotional release. I got a depressing look at corruption with absolutely zero consequences for the villainous Trudeau and no satisfaction for the Payton family. Everybody who was getting fucked throughout the book continued to get fucked. Everybody who profited from the fucking continued to profit from the fucking.

I understand that some novels aren't meant to be black and white, that they're not cheapened so that there is a happily ever after ending, that they reflect reality, not fiction. Those aren't novels for light reading. Those aren't John Grisham's disposable legal thrillers. If I wanted to read a book that had no point, I'd read non-fiction or something existentialist. I wanted to read a decent book that would keep my attention and then satisfy me with a resolution that felt like it meant something. Instead, I got fucked.

Fuck you, John Grisham. All that time I spent with your book I could have spent masturbating to donkey porn.

On a totally unrelated aside (idea stolen from Kapgar):

Go congratulate Sarcastica for winning Best Teen Blog at the 2008 Bloggies!

And in that vein, fuck Perez Hilton for stealing Best GLBT Blog from Puntabulous – Perez Hilton isn't a GLBT blog, it's a gossip blog!

And, while I'm at it, have I mentioned that I hate Dooce? Fuck her for winning anything – she is NOT a blog! Dooce.com is a series of articles about some of the most tedious subjects possible. A blog allows comments and recognizes its readers as part of an interactive environment. Fuck Dooce for winning "Best Designed". Her blog is black and white. Real fucking creative. And "Lifetime Achievement" and "Blog of the Year"? Fuck you! Dooce hasn't written a worthwhile post in at least three years. I hate her with a fiery passion. My first exclamation when I saw that was to shout, "I hope you get cancer!" (Yes, I know that's horrible and evil and dreadful and shameful. And I think she already had cancer of some sort.) Britt said that I wouldn't want that, because then she'd just get more sympathy and become even more popular. And she's right. So, instead, I just hope that she breaks her fingers and can't type for six months and all of her advertisers realize what a sham her non-blog blog is.

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Posted in Rants | 77 Comments »

Dear Panera Bread employees

Thursday, March 6th, 2008

You fucking syphilitic little shitheads.

If I ever see your slackjawed drooling little cro-magnon faces in public, I will run you over in my car. And back up. And drive forwards. And back up. And drive forwards. And park on you, then squeal my tires and drive off. And then come back and pee on whatever's left.

Your job consists of either (a) pushing buttons on a register or (b) following simple, explicit instructions in the proper creation of a sandwich. Both of these tasks requires nothing more than the brainpower of a turd from a retarded frog. Not only should you have the cranial capacity to do your task plus carry on a conversation, chew gum, and avoid drooling, but you should also be able to do these things with a speed higher than an old man riding his Rascal down the sidewalk on his way to the liquor store.

To the poster child for abortion running the register: Fully 90% of your products involve bread. If you are out of a specific type of bread, this would be something that might be helpful to tell the customer before they order a sandwich on that bread and pay for it, expecting it to be on that bread. The same goes for bread bowls. If you don't even know if you're out of a major part of your inventory, you really should have skipped work, stayed home, and played hide the flesh pickle with your gross step-dad, okay? At least that way, only the person who deserves it would be getting fucked.

To the dead-eyed rabbit turd-brained skull-fuckee who prepares the sandwiches: It's bread, meat, tomato, dressing, lettuce, bread. That's it. You could even make a mnemonic out of it if you were having problems: Beat Me To Death. Love, Bobby. See? Your job is so easy that I'd like to attach electrodes to your little prepubescent testicles and shock you every time you take more than twelve seconds following a fucking picture diagram! In kindergarten, were you the one who just sat there and peed yourself while everyone else put the round peg in the round hole and got a gold star? Maybe it would have been better if your mom had just left you in the car with the window cracked while she ran into the casino for 8 or 9 hours to gamble away her welfare check. At least, then, you'd have a reason for the massive retardation that emanates from you in a palpable wave.

I hate you all. You make me fear for the future of society and weep at the potential for America's youth, but mainly you make me want to inject Ebola into your eyeballs. And once your face has melted off, I'm going to let the nastiest, rankest homeless man I can find with a rancid, rotting penis skullfuck you until your head actually explodes in an explosion of pus, semen, and more pus. This could have all been avoided had you just shown a modicum of intelligence, common sense, and ability to function in normal society.

Fuck you all, and may you die a fiery painful death.

Love,

Adam

P.S. My chocolate chip cookie was very good.

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Posted in Rants | 72 Comments »

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.

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Posted in Rants | 78 Comments »

Driving Miss Fucking Daisy

Thursday, February 7th, 2008

Firstly, I'm feeling much better. And I have my car back!

Secondly, I'm going to talk about drivers. (No, not just slow drivers, RW. Stop yer bitchin'.)

Avitable's 10 Rules of Driving:

1. On the interstate, the left lane is called a passing lane. It's not called a driving lane! That means that you use that lane to pass slower vehicles, and if there are faster vehicles behind you, you get over and let them pass you! It's one of the simplest concepts in the world, yet nobody seems to grasp it. And I don't care if you're going 80 so you think you're going fast enough – it's not the fucking driving lane! If I'm going 110 mph, and you're going 80, I should not have to get in the right lane, go around you, and then get back in the passing lane. And yes, I'm going to cut you off when I do it. Because you're a retard.

2. Applying makeup, eating a sandwich, plucking your eyebrows, watching a movie, flipping through your CDs, using your mirror for something other than keeping an eye on the other several-ton death machines around you going at high speeds, putting on or taking off clothes, texting, or even talking on your cellphone while drinking, smoking, eating, or doing anything else – these are NOT activities you should be doing while driving. ESPECIALLY if you're going at a speed that will cause you to suffer from a case of death if you hit someone else because you're not paying proper attention.

3. When you put on your blinker, get over. Don't put your blinker on and casually slide over so that it takes you a full mile to get into the right lane. If you do that, I will share the left lane with you and make you feel like I'm going to push you into your lane. I have no problem with that, and I have no patience with idiots who can't even change lanes properly.

4. If you're going to go slow, great. If you're going to go fast, great. Whatever you're going to do, do it consistently! Staying at 55 mph, and then speeding up to 90 mph for a mile, then slowing down to 60, and so on is not only dangerous because it's unpredictable, but it's just stupid. Maintaining a consistent speed allows other drivers to anticipate your driving, which allows them to react better. Fucking spaz.

5. Don't EVER give me a dirty look because you didn't know enough to get over and I came up too quickly behind you. I was the one maintaining a constant speed in the passing lane, passing the cars as intended. You're the evolutionary throwback who has decided to get comfortable in the passing lane without checking your mirrors.

6. If you're on a motorcycle, stay the fuck off my interstate. No, I don't want to race you, and no, I don't have any problem getting right up on your ass. If you keep zipping around cars to keep up with me without using your turn signals, you're going to end up a very big stain on the pavement. And nobody is going to miss you.

7. If you're driving a big rig, just stay the fuck in the right lane. I don't care if there's a horse and buggy in the right lane going 20 mph, all you're going to do is snarl traffic and fuck everything up.

8. You don't look cool if you're slouched so far down in your car that all I can see is your stupid Cro Mag head. That means you can't see your mirrors, which means we're risking our lives with a moron who has his pants pulled halfway down wearing a wifebeater who thinks he's hot shit. And if you've tricked out your car so that it's so low to the ground that every bump causes sparks, stick to side roads where you can slow down drastically without fucking the rest of us up.

9. If you have a nice car that is meant to be driven quickly and driven well, and you're driving it like it's a Yugo, I hate you.

10. Just stay home. It will make my life easier.

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Posted in Rants | 83 Comments »