Thursday, April 30, 2009

Too Many Gadgets in the Fucking Car!


Maybe these car companies wouldn't be such failures if they had stuck to building normal fucking cars instead of pumping a bunch of stupid, pointless gadgets into everything. No, that wouldn't work. People are too fat and happy and gadget-crazy and they wouldn't buy sensible cars. Wake up, you morons! You have too many gadgets in the fucking car!

The following accessories, in my opinion, are completely dumb.

-Power anything. Locks, windows...what have you.
-DVD players
-TV
-Heated seats
-Automatic transmission
-Separate headphone jacks for each family member
-GPS
-Back-up camera/sensor
-Climate control

What kind of bullshit is climate control anyway? I wasn't aware that each seat had it's own "climate". It's a fucking bench, not the tropics. Christ...

And we wonder why there are so many car accidents. People are comatose behind the wheel. The car does fucking everything for these morons. They don't have to crank down a window, they don't have to change gears, they don't have to watch where they're going because they've got sensors to do that, they don't even have to know where they're going because Mr. GPS is there to help. All these people have to do is kick back with a Big Mac as they gab on their cell phones. Then it's the other guy's fault when they get into an accident.

What the hell happened to an engine, four tires, and a windshield? Oh, I guess that stopped being fun for people so we had to give them something to play with while they're careening down the highway in a ton of steel. Heaven forbid they're not being entertained at all hours of the day.

And we don't need fucking DVD players in the car! When I took family trips as a youngster I didn't have Power Ranger videos to take me there. I sat there in the back seat with a book, I shut the hell up, and I was grateful if we pulled over for some McDonalds at the halfway point. Now these kids get cranky if they don't get to watch Miley Cyrus on the 20 minute drive to ballet practice. And Pimp My Ride doesn't exactly help matters. They put like 400 TV screens in every vehicle they make over. I saw one where the headlights were little TV screens that looped VH1's Behind the Music: Snoop Dogg.

These modern cars are ridiculous. I'm waiting for the jacuzzi, jungle gym, and bunk beds.

Pussy Flaps


Sorry if you thought this entry was going to be juicy, but that's just my own little term for the sun visors in the car. Because it's a flap and only pussies use them.

I was inspired to write this as I drove down the highway yesterday with the sun in the west shining through my driver's side window. I swung the flap around to block it and then quickly became aware of my status as a complete pansy and swung it right back up. Real men don't use visors. They squint into the sun as they exhale a huge Marlboro drag from their leathery faces, hardened from working in the mines for 40 years. None of this "Boo hoo hoo, the sun's in my eyes" garbage. What a bunch of wimps.

You know who didn't use a sun visor? Dennis Fucking Hopper. Never mind the fact that he was on a motorcycle and a sun visor wasn't an option. Even if he were driving a car he would've ripped the bastard off and flung it into a ditch in New Mexico. Just a hat and a tasty pair of shades is all Dennis needs. Très badass, Mr. Hopper.

I know these pussy flaps are nothing new, but there is entirely too much useless crap in our cars.* If you're driving, grow some balls and squint it out. Save your whimpering for the tampon department where you're undoubtedly going if you use a sun visor.


*More on that later. I missed last night's update because of internet troubles so I owe you one.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Letter Openers


May I ask...who uses letter openers and if you do, what the hell are you thinking?

This has got to be one of the most useless things ever. I'm pretty sure 99% of the population would do just fine without one. Unless you've been hired to go through Miley Cyrus's fan mail, you have no business owning a letter opener.

What is wrong with the good ol' envelope finger fuck? It's traditional. It doesn't take any longer than using a letter opener. And most importantly, it doesn't make you look like a pampered douche.

Seriously, every time I use a letter opener (which is not often, mind you) I feel like I should be opening letters in a robe on the second-storey marble balcony of my secluded Colombian mansion as my wife hands me a mug of rich, dark, freshly-ground java. I feel like a prick. Like I'm above using my hand like the rest of the peons.

Letter openers are for rich assholes and the only acceptable way to be caught with one is if you're stabbing a guy who is actually using it for it's intended purpose.

That is all.

Monday, April 27, 2009

Breaking My Playstation 2


Today I broke my PS2. Apparently I'm not good at fixing things.

My PS2 was always used mainly for watching DVDs. I'm not a big gamer although I do play the odd round of Barbie Horse Adventures. Mostly, though, it was used for watching Anchorman for the 700th time at 4:30am after a night at the bar. Well...to be fair, it would have been the 699th and a quarter time if that was the case. Don't you love waking up at 1pm with the DVD title screen looping over and over?

But anyway. A while back the PS2 started acting up with DVDs. They wouldn't play properly. The movie would freeze every few seconds and continue to do so until you got fed up and turned the system off. And recently it just flat out stopped reading DVDs. Games were fine, but DVDs were like poison.

I looked into it and concluded that the lens must need cleaning. So I got instructions on how to open up the PS2 to clean it. And today I set out to finally nip the problem in the bud.

Let me say right now that opening up a PS2 is way harder than getting those hard-shell packages open. I went at this thing with screwdrivers and vice grips and scissors and it took me well over half an hour to get it open.

In the midst of prying and crying and screaming and swearing I managed to cut myself on a sharp edge on one of the pieces inside. It started to bleed and I thought to myself, "Oh no, oh shit, oh boy. This is bad, this is bad." I became worried and drove myself to the emergency room. Panicking, I entered the hospital and I was rushed immediately into one of the rooms where a doctor looked at my hand.

I still haven't been able to figure out why, but the doctor seemed none too pleased with me. I was still a little shaken from my accident so I didn't quite absorb everything he said. But "asshole" and "for real emergencies only" were tossed around quite a bit. Whatever. I think he was just jealous that I left with his last Flinstones Band-aid wrapped around my pinky. And why was that kid with the two broken femurs glaring at me as I passed back through the waiting room? Jeez, lighten up.

After I returned home I continued to try and fix my PS2 only to have it conk out completely. Nothing works. I think I must have damaged the ribbon that connects the reset and eject buttons to the rest of the system. It's fucking balls.

Now I have no DVD player, no video game console, and a wound on my right pinky (which apparently isn't that serious but it so totally IS!). Plus I have to live with the knowledge that I can't fix things for shit and as such, can never be labelled as a real man.

Fuck.

Sunday, April 26, 2009

Daniel Cook


Daniel Cook makes me nervous. I'm kind of glad I've never met him in person and I'll explain why:

THE WELL-BEING OF MY BALLS.

If you don't know who Daniel Cook is, he's this red-headed kid who's on TV from time to time. Possibly on PBS, I don't know. His show is called "This is Daniel Cook" and it's just one of those shows that I always seem to stumble upon for no particular reason. But the whole premise is that Daniel Cook experiences or learns something (making pizza, exercising, going to the dentist) in approximately 6 minutes or less.

Anyway, back to my balls and why Daniel Cook makes me nervous. Don't worry, it's not as bad as that sounded. Let me direct you to this clip here:

Will you look at how this kid behaves? I've been around kids like this and they scare the shit out of me. The kids with poor coordination. The kids that are always absent-mindedly jumping around and clumsily bumping into everything. Because it makes me feel like one way or another I'm going to take a shot in the balls if I hang around them for too long.

Daniel Cook is someone who seems like
a) he will run up to me, punch me square in the balls, and run away laughing loudly. He seems like that kind of kid. You know kids like this? The ones that think it's funny to biff people in the nads for no reason other than their own amusement? And they're so remorseless. These instances always end with a grown man crying and the kid cackling loudly like the little shit that he is.

b) he will accidentally hit me in the balls. Okay, so maybe Daniel Cook is not the type to purposely hit everyone he sees in the balls. That doesn't mean my balls are safe. Maybe I've watched too many episodes of America's Funniest Home Videos but I have this constant fear of approaching children while their backs are turned to me. I've seen way too many children dancing around and suddenly the left elbow flies wildly out and the poor sap standing behind the child ends up in the fetal position wishing for sweet, sweet death. Daniel Cook, to me, seems like the type of kid that dishes out accidental nut shots a little too regularly.

Now that's my balls. My other problem with Daniel Cook is...who is he and who the hell thought he deserved a TV show? Again, back to my traffic light argument. I can't seem to find any background info on Daniel Cook. So until I see something to change my mind, I don't know why he has any right to his own TV show. He doesn't seem to have done anything to earn it. The show is called "This is Daniel Cook" as if he was already a household name and we're supposed to know who he is.

I don't understand. Why Daniel Cook? There are tons of better kids out there to host shows. Kids that can put some enthusiasm into the reading of their title slides. Kids who aren't hyper as fuck in one shot and then bored to tears the next. Kids who aren't constantly glancing around the room as they talk to whichever adult "teacher" is on the show. Seriously, watch a few episodes of Daniel Cook and you'll see what I mean. He clearly recites a question written for him and then as it's being answered he pays attention to everything in the room except the speaker. You'd think by the age of 8 the little bastard would develop some basic interviewing skills. I mean, come on, what else would he be doing all day?

I don't think I have any other problems with Daniel Cook, just that he's too clumsy and uncoordinated and I'd fear for my balls if I were ever around him. But those things alone are enough to get Daniel Cook onto my list.

Saturday, April 25, 2009

Two and a Half Men


I don't get how this show is still on. Maybe I just have a different sense of humour but I just don't find it funny. It seems very predictable and many jokes are cliche. It just seems weird when the audience roars with laughter over a gag that's been done by several other people before.

People talk a lot about how we're being dumbed down and although I don't think that right away when I watch other shows, I do constantly have "dumb show" at the front of my brain as I watch Two and a Half Men. And yeah, I get that some people turn on the TV to escape and not think too much, this show just seems to be taking that notion to an embarrassing level. It's really not a show for intellectuals, but rather for Linda, the overweight stay-at-home-mom from Wisconsin. She's a good, friendly person, but damn, every time she speaks you'd think she was born yesterday. Just duuumb.

As the years pass I pray that the kid's entry into adulthood will bring the show to a much needed series finale. I really hope in a few years he moves out. It would have to be then end then, right? Would anyone watch Two Men? Would anyone watch the spinoff, One Frat Dipshit (Yes, Another One...)? Would Charlie Sheen have the colossal balls to adopt some other unfortunate kid and start the series all over again? Surely that would be enough for even the dumb people to say, "Nope, not a chance. Officially jumped the shark." Is there any "reasonable" way to keep the show running after the kid moves out?

Oh, and while we're on the subject, I could really do without people who sing the theme song to Two and a Half Men. First of all it sounds like it was "envisioned" by thin, 40-something guys in suits who drink way too much Starbucks on a daily basis. Douchebags. And I say "envisioned" because saying it was written probably gives someone more credit than they deserve. Second, you're not funny or cute by singing it. All it says to me is that you're entertained by a mediocre show and for that you get no points!

This show is like the Disney Channel for adults. Same lack of intelligence and undeserved hype, just with less glitter and Jonas Brothers. Yeah, fuck the Jonas Brothers too.

Friday, April 24, 2009

New Traffic Lights


Aren't they just the worst? They're the side affect of developing new plazas and whatnot. Or just making an intersection safer. But unless they're green, new traffic lights are a pain in the ass.

You see them up when the plaza's still being built. A dirty, incomplete intersection at first, and then one day you drive through and see the light stands, and then the traffic lights covered in heavy black cloth. You know the inevitable day will come when you'll have to slow down and stop for this bastard.

It's for this reason that I don't think very highly of new traffic lights. Because they're new! They just burst onto the scene. And suddenly they feel like they're running the show. Newborns aren't running companies from the moment they leave the womb. They have to earn responsibility and respect.

I feel this way about new traffic lights. Who are they to be telling me to stop? I don't have to listen to them. I've been around these parts a lot longer than they have. They should have to gain my respect before ordering me around. I want them to prove to me that they're capable of managing traffic flow. I don't just listen to any old schmo with flashing lights.

In any case though, I stop for them because they've got the law on their side. I think of it like the third-grade bully at school. The bully is just about ready to wail on some little kid and then the little kid's tenth-grade brother steps out and says, "I wouldn't do that if I were you." with his arms folded across his chest. The bully knows he can't win against someone bigger than him so he just kind of slinks away thinking, "Man, if you didn't have your brother on your side, boy the things you'd have coming to you, let me tell you..."

And that's how it is. Traffic lights raspberry me from behind the law's back. I can't stop for new traffic lights without thinking, "Why I oughta...two weeks ago I wasn't stopping for you and believe me, you're lucky I'm stopping now."

I'm tired of all these lights getting respect for nothing.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Going Green


Aren't we done with this crap yet? Apparently "going green" is on it's second wind. See, this bullshit all started when Al Gore destroyed the world with An Inconvenient Truth. Well, it certainly was inconvenient.

This movie exploded and for months literally the only thing I heard anywhere was any variation of the terms "green", "environment", "global impact", and possibly "carbon footprint." "Carbon footprint" may have emerged later on. But either way, all this green talk was infuriating.

Then it seemed to disappear for a little while and I thought maybe the hype was over and people weren't as douche-y as they once were. I guess I was wrong. I don't know if it's just because Earth Day was yesterday or if this environmental crap is gaining momentum again, but last week as I worked 9-5 and read the daily commuters' paper, I noticed every second article was about going green and reducing carbon footprints.

Now, it's not going green itself that annoys me, but it's 3 main things that seem to have come with the idea that do it.

1) People won't shut the fuck up about it. As I mentioned before about the daily paper on the subway, there's entirely too much green talk. If you want to waste your time saving the planet, be my guest, but please don't talk. I don't care about your hippie suggestions for me, I don't care about how you think I'm evil because I'm "not doing my part", I just don't care. Shut up. There is honestly no way to use "going green" in a positive way without sounding like a full-blown douche. It's an over-used expression like "tough economic times" and it sounds like it originated from rich, trendy, pompous white people.

2) People take it way too seriously. If you've read up until this point, you probably think I hate the planet. I don't. I throw my water bottles in the recycling just like the next guy. I don't go hucking trash bags into wetlands just for the fun of it. But I also don't go out of my way to ensure that every tiny little detail of my life is environmentally friendly.

Have you heard about green weddings? Not that I'm implying that getting married is a tiny little detail of life, but come on. Just have the fucking wedding and get it over with. One wedding is not going to destroy the planet, nor will several. It's just dumb. I'm curious to know, actually, if hookers are advertising themselves as "enviro-safe" to maximize on the "going-green dollar"...

2) People don't seem to realize that we're not going to be here forever. I don't know why everyone seems to think that humans are the only species to ever walk on earth, the planet has always looked this way, has always been the same temperature, and we'll be here forever without change and the planet will never, ever, ever change. It will always be exactly how it is right now. Were you born yesterday.

You know what I hope for? A giant asteroid. I hope it gets discovered tomorrow -- no, today. And in one week, they'll say, it'll crash right into the Canadian/U.S. border (just because we're the biggest douches on the planet) and wipe out 99.9 percent of species on earth. And everyone will be hanging around in the afterlife and I'll pipe up and declare, "Ha! How do like your environment now, you morons?"

If the earth gets to the point where humans can't survive (which it will some way or another regardless of whether or not you drive a Prius), fine. Humans aren't that important. Eventually we'll become another chapter in the history of the world. We'll become extinct and other life will evolve and hopefully it won't be nearly as dumb and self-centred as we are.

That's my opinion on this going green bullshit and I realize and accept that you might think I'm evil just because I have a different opinion than Al Gore and the mob of zombies that have chosen to follow him (everyone except me apparently).

But fuck you. I didn't waste any paper today writing this entry. And I just might skip showering today to save water. And forget flushing the toilet and wiping. Just more things wasted. So call me evil all you want, but I do my part for the environment in alternative ways. I may smell like shit, but I'm not a bad person.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

My Shoe-Shopping Experience


Today I decided that I couldn't put it off another day. I had to go and buy new shoes. This was no casual shoe-shopping venture. This was a code red, "you should get down here now if you want to say your goodbyes" footwear emergency. A critical, shoes-aren't-going-to-last-the-hour situation. NFL running back Ryan Moats got nabbed by the cops as he sped to see my shoes one last time. He didn't make it. That's how bad my shoes were.

Now, I swear by Chuck Taylors and have been for years. It's a comfortable shoe despite failing in the waterproof department. It's one of the few types of shoes that don't look completely out of place on me. Dirty hippies don't wear Air Jordans very often. So I wanted a new pair of Chucks.

I haven't bought a new pair in probably 3-4 years. And I guess things have changed since I went shoe-shopping last. I went to the "B-list" sports store where I got my last pair and walked to the the shoe section as the sole of my left shoe clopped along the floor, slowly but surely breaking away from the rest of the shoe. My left shoe looked like this, only the rip went further, all the way around the back to the outside of the shoe.

When I got to the shoe section, I walked up and down the display wall several times, seeing heaps of overly flashy basketball shoes, but no Chucks. What the fuck? Ironically, the basketball shoe has been discontinued and all that's left is a bunch of bullshit shiny crap.

A little bit annoyed, I left the store because I had driven over half an hour to the other side of a busy, lunch-hour town. I drove back through town to the mall that would have only taken me 15 minutes to get to originally. I wondered to myself which stores would be best to check first because most stores would be bloody expensive. I'm a thrift store shopper and I'm used to buying hobo clothes for 5 dollars or less.

Zellers, Sears, and the Bay all had nothing. I should note that a guy like me generally seems out of place in any store in the mall besides the music store. I discovered that the Bay is not exactly targeted towards my kind. I feel quite certain that the store was ready to inform the police department of a young man shuffling through the perfume department, appearing homeless and possibly on narcotics. It's a presentable women's store, is my point.

At this time I realize I'm left with the choice of going home and improvising some serious shoe repair or manning up and visiting a sports store in the mall. My left shoe is about to buy the farm here. I'm either leaving the mall with a new pair of shoes on my feet or I'm going to be walking back to the car in my socks. Fuck it, I go to Foot Locker.

Me experience there wasn't as horrible as it could have been, but I still felt uncomfortable. I spotted the familiar canvas shoe on the top shelf and looked around for "friendly customer assistance." There were two girls working there and one was helping someone else. I talked to the other and she said she was helping someone as well. So I waited by my future shoes. And waited. These were two heavy-duty customers apparently. But no biggie. I didn't have to be anywhere.

Finally the girl I didn't talk to before came over and asked me if I needed help. I told her what size and what shoe I was looking for and waited while she searched the so-called "locker" in the back. I picture a school locker only many sizes larger and all the shoes are kept inside, secured by a giant novelty padlock.

As I was waiting all this time I had to listen to shitty, Auto-Tuned, R&B or whatever they're calling it. You know, with some suave black guy singing soulfully over horrid beats and saying "Girrrl" a lot? They always wear sunglasses and have thin beards? No?

Well, I got my shoes and they fit well and all the rest. The girl said she'd ring them up at the front and I proceeded to change back into my old shoes. RRRIIPP. Not happening. As I put my left shoe on, it came to terms with itself and walked into the light at the end of the tunnel. Not a second too soon, I thought. I'd be wearing the new shoes right out of the store.

I walked up to the register with my shoes under my arm and there's someone paying. After a second I realize they're not paying. They're bitching. Trying to get a refund. Just perfect. The girl is telling this guy store policies and apologizing and all the rest and he just isn't getting it. After a minute he realizes there is a homeless-looking kid standing behind him in sock feet. Maybe he has a stroke of sympathy and reflects on the sad state of this world in which a person so, so young has finally scrimped up enough money to afford a pair of shoes. But he let me go ahead of him. And I thought, "Take that, personal hygiene!"

Thankfully the shoes weren't overly expensive. At least not as much as I thought I might be paying at Foot Locker. Plus I used a gift card so I didn't pay that much at all. But this experience has taught me that I should give my shoes some time to enjoy retirement. My left shoe died in battle today as it dreamed of playing shuffleboard in Florida. It's something no shoe or it's family should ever have to go through.

Monday, April 20, 2009

Fucking Stoners...


Damn it. I went into the store at 4:28 this afternoon hoping for this. Instead I saw this. It only happened to this one aisle too! They're like locusts.

Now the cashier is being treated for PTSD and I spent 3 hours slowly buying my munchies.

Sigh. Happy 4/20 everyone.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Weird-Ass Baby Names


Is it just me or have celebrities gone clinically insane? I can let the occasional Candy or Trixie go. I still think they're kind of weird shortened versions of normal names (Candice and Beatrix) and they sound incredibly stripper-y, but I can let them slide. Some of these celebrity baby names though...good fucking gravy.

How can anyone think Fifi Trixibell or Pilot Inspektor is a good name for a kid? It's a good thing that these people are famous and have a lot of money because holy shit, are they going to be spending a fortune on their kid's therapy. I have a friend who shares his name with a famous gay musician and he's told me more than once how annoying it is to be associated with this musician ALL THE TIME despite the fact that he makes good music (or so I think). The funny thing is, my friend wasn't even named after this musician. It's just a rare enough name that people associate it with just this one musician.

It's kind of like being named Elvis when your parents weren't even fans of Presley. They just liked the name. But who else is named Elvis besides Presley and Stojko? Nobody. So you're stuck with people associating you with them for the rest of your life. I'm getting a little off-topic here though.

I mean, are you thinking of the kid when you name it something completely stupid? Maybe you think it's funny and cute, but how funny and cute is it going to be when li'l Hopper goes a-hopping right off the top of a building because he just can't take one more fucking day of all the tormenting?

Really, if you want to be clever and creative, paint a picture and come up with one of your dumbass names for it. But don't take it out on the poor little fuck. Tired of Jim and John and Mike and Mary and Stephanie? Fine. Don't get stupid about it. Name them one of these old-fashioned names that has gone out of style. Walter, Bertha, Priscilla, Milton, Abraham, Betty, Charles, Edwin, Harriet, Martha, Gene, Henry, Grace. Sensible names and they stand out because everyone else thinks Madison and Dylan are clever names. They're not.

I have to say though that Penn Jillette named his daughter something that truly made me laugh even though it's still dumb: Moxie CrimeFighter. It's almost like he himself thinks these over-the-top names are completely insane and wanted to satirize them by saying "You think Apple and Brooklyn are good? Check this shit out!" It sounds like a saucy superheroine's name. Clearly it's just Penn's humour but Bluebell Madonna (Geri Halliwell's kid) is not humour. It's just an empty-skulled has-been who thinks she's naming her daughter something precious and unique. Well, it's sickening.

All I'm trying to say is that shrooms and child-naming don't always mix.

Saturday, April 18, 2009

Anti-Gay Marriage People


Seriously, what the fuck?! Are we living in the Dark Ages here? And by "we" I mean most of the States...which I'm not even affiliated with. But bear with me. What the fuck, man, what the fuck?

How can I say this clearly? How about...put down your voodoo book, take a look out the window, and get with the fucking times. Which coming from me, is pretty hypocritical. Again, bear with me.

I don't even understand why this is an issue to be perfectly frank. You don't want two people of the same sex to marry because your religion said it's wrong? Gays are going to hell?

Can I ask you an honest question? Yes? Okay:
HOW. DOES. THIS. FUCKING. AFFECT. YOU. IN. ANY. WAY?

If gays are going to hell (which they're not, you morons), fuck 'em. Does that somehow mean that when you supposedly get to heaven (for being a complete asshole to anyone who is slightly different from you, mind you), your eternal bliss will be hindered in some way? I honestly don't get these religious people who feel the need to stomp on anything that their "God" supposedly doesn't want. Look, if you're religious, go ahead and be religious. I don't agree with you, but I'm not stopping you. But when you try to impose your "God" on the entire world, that's when I get seriously pissed off.

Here's an idea: if you don't like gay marriage...DON'T FUCKING MARRY SOMEONE WHO'S THE SAME GENDER AS YOU! It's almost too simple! If you haven't noticed, there are a shitload of people on this earth who don't believe in your god. I sure as hell don't believe in this god that apparently loves everyone...oh, except for fags. Can I ask you something else? Did you just make this shit up, or...?

I know some gay people. Funny, none of them seem to emit that "pure evil" vibe. Could it be...because they're not? Could it be that they're (gasp) normal fucking human beings who are simply attracted to members of the same sex? No, that can't be it. They're obviously ill.

How do these anti-gay people sleep at night? On top of "I Know What's Best For Everyone" sheets, covered by a Fred Phelps blanket? All I'm trying to say is, concern yourself with your own life and stop imposing on other peoples' lives. Unless it's harming you or your property, just let it go. Complain all you want, but don't flat out ban gay marriage just because you don't believe in it. Many people do. You're not going to hell just because some lesbians got married so why do you care so much?

Let me say it again: complain all you want if you don't like something, but don't deny other people their freedoms. You don't see me going to the Supreme Court saying, "Look, we've simply got to ban Smart Cars, raisins, and Tim Geithner."

I write a shitty rant about it online and move on with my life. Let gay people marry each other. And grow up. You're acting like a complete tool. I have no witty out line for this one.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

9-5


Don't get me wrong, usually I have a lot of fun writing these rants. But this week I just haven't been into it, which is dumb because this just happens to be the week when I've had a flood of ideas. See, I've been covering for a 9-5 guy at work this week and by the time I get home, all I want to do is jack off, take a shit, and go to bed. 9-5 is balls, I tell you!

Seriously, I've done the 9-5 thing before and every time it makes me completely understand why people go postal. Here's why.

-I hate going to bed when I'm not ready for bed. I'm not one of those people who can say, "Damn, I have to wake up at 4:30am. I better be in bed by 9 or 10." I go to bed when I'm tired or too god damned shitfaced to retain consciousness. If I force myself to go to bed, I lie awake until I'm actually tired and fall asleep. The voices in my head are seriously entertaining though.

-I hate waking up to repetitive electronic shrieking saying "Fuuuck...god damn it" over and over and over.

-I hate that it takes me 2 hours to commute to work, driving or taking public transit. Fucking horseshit. Either way, it's 2 hours of my life I'm wasting along with hundreds of other morons. Wow, I just had a brilliant idea. Just now. I'm going to donate my entire paycheque each week to any top-notch scientists who are working on teleportation. If they can get me from my house to my work instantly without all the fucking brake lights or subway transfers, they deserve some funding.

-I hate the fact that I'm actually required to shower and change my clothes every day. Are you serious?! What the fuck is this crap?!

-I hate dealing with bitter co-workers. I guess it's not entirely their fault, I mean, they work 9-5 and probably have been doing so much of their lives. I'm friggin' 23 and I hate everything about 9-5. How do these people feel at 55? I guess I can't blame them. But still. I just wish they were as optimistic about everything as I am.

-I hate being the most awesome person in the office. If any co-workers happen to be reading this, honestly, return to your offices. I don't need people constantly asking for a signed photo and I really have no use for the daily office parades you throw for me. Look, I'm really blown away by the fact that you made a golden chariot for me to ride in while a tall, white stallion pulls me down the hallway to my office. But the seat is a little too lumpy and one ass cheek always rides lower than the other and it feels weird. Like I might be curving my spine inappropriately. I mean, I'm flattered, but with my salary I can't afford a chiropractor.

I guess that's about it for now. I can't wait until next week when I don't have to work 9-5 and I can show up to work piss drunk every day. Unless...

Also, the answer to the title is four. Four...
As in "Four...the love of God, man, get yourself a fucking girlfriend already."



UPDATE: Literally less than a minute after posting this I discovered I beat Listman to a topic. I'm so fucking awesome!

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Fashion Shit


OK, maybe I'm ignorant, I don't know. If you want to defend fashion shit, be my guest, but for now, here's my take on it.

One question: why does anyone pay attention to this meaningless garbage? Ah hell, here are more questions. Why is there a television channel devoted solely to fashion? Who is watching it? Can we find them a soul?

Why do people need to be told what to wear? Why do they need to be told what's in and what's out this fall season? Are these people insecure? Why do they need to obsess over fashion styles?

Christ, it's clothing. Put a fucking shirt on, go out, and find yourself a job. Fashion flair is not important. Have you seen some of the things these models come out wearing? Some of them come out dressed like peacocks or mermaids or some shit. Seriously, I never see anyone wearing this stuff besides the blank people on the runway. And if I ever did, "stylish and sexy" wouldn't be the first thing that comes to mind. It would be something more like "rich, snotty cunt."

And why do catalogues have massive sections with endless pictures of coats? They're all the same. You've seen them, the perfect smiling family of four wearing their winter coats, tossing fake snow at each other. That's not even reality. Reality would be a picture of the two kids rolling around in the slushy driveway fighting over a DS with half a snow-fort in the background. And dad would be inside watching syndicated episodes of Two and a Half Men while chain smoking Newports.

Back to coats though. You want to know what my coat looks like. Picture a brown, corduroy jacket from 1976 with half the ridges worn away. It has no buttons left and there is a big gash that has grown out of a small hole where one of the buttons used to be. This is pretty much my coat, only mine is way shittier. It truly is the jacket of a homeless man. But I stick by it because...right, it's a fucking coat. It keeps me warm. It's doing it's job. I'm not attempting to impress Her Majesty here.

Stop treating these fashion experts all over the media like they're walking capsules of class and sophistication. They're wasting their time with nonsense and someone needs to find them a real hobby fast.

Monday, April 13, 2009

Biker Gangs


This is some terror on two wheels, man. Now that the warm weather is here, the gangs have their bikes out and they're roaming the roads, pouncing on the weakest of the herd. And you'd better keep your nose up because their next victim could be YOU!

Scary shit I tell you. I don't trust biker gangs one bit. They're always smiling as I pass cautiously in my car. It makes me think they're up to something. I'm afraid that they know that a half a mile down the road a monstrous swarm of bikers will emerge from a hidden driveway and swoop in on me and kick my ass. Biker gangs are like wild hunting dogs. Lean, mean, and fierce as a motherfucker.

And they're armed to the teeth too. Oh yeah, you didn't know? Let me tell you, under each biker's faggoty yellow spandex suit lies an arsenal of no less than 12 deadly weapons. You'd never know it by looking at them, but they're there and the bikers DO use them. Semi-autos, crossbows, even some of these daunting things. Serious fucking business.

You see biker gangs a lot, but every so often you'll see a rider travelling alone. Or so you think. For every lone rider you see, I guarantee you there are at least 25 bikers covering him from the wings. You never see them though. They're like ninjas. You fuck with the lone rider and your ass is grass before you even realize what's going on.

Biker gangs, you come from the worst part of hell, and I'm onto you. I hide my family in the attic when I see you rolling slowly down my street like a swarm of locusts in protective headgear. You frighten children without remorse. Alas, there is not much we can do. We're the prey and you're the predator and you're simply too powerful for us to fight back. So for now the only thing we can really do is to not poke the bear.

I've said what I need to and I'm happy with it. Oh, and stop taking up so much space on the damn road. Honestly...trying to drive here.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Paid Programming on the Radio


Jesus Christ, is this shit boring or what? The younger folks may not even be aware of this, listening to their iPods or iPhones or whatever spooky device they get their music from. Help me out here, I'm so utterly out of touch! Anyway, this paid programming is not meant to sell anything like TV infomercials. It is usually a half hour segment, usually happening on weekend mornings, dedicated to discussing some of the most boring crap ever.

I can think of lots of paid programming shows that air regularly on all the AM stations I listen to (because I'm 23 and I'm that fucking cool). Out of all of them, I can't think of a single one I enjoy listening to. Let's see. There's a computer/software/virus protection show, a gardening show, a car show, a Christian show, a "woman's perspective" show, a travel show, a home improvement show... Shall I continue? Please say no. This is so god damn boring.

The worst though, the absolute worst show...the show that makes me want to set fire to myself to lessen the agony...is called the Buddha Lounge. This show is perfectly dreadful. It makes me fully understand why people hate hippies. By hippies, I don't mean the traditional counter-culture people, but the people that seem to get associated most with the term these days. I'm talking about these pansy-ass, pussy-ass, gentile, "alternative-lifestyle", yoga-practicing, organic-food-eating, meditating people. These are the people that make up the Buddha Lounge.

Whether they're talking about Feng Shui or spiritual vibes and energies, they make me want to puke because they always speak in sort of a hushed manner. It's hard to describe, but if you group together the words "yoga", "lifestyle", and "pansy" into sort of an idea to describe the way someone speaks, you're on the right track.

Enough Buddha Lounge bashing though. The point is that all of these shows are excruciating. They all have people phoning up and asking for advice. Who listens to this shit? I couldn't care less about other peoples' difficulties in the garden or the hardships they're running into with their plumbing. Snore. SNORE. SNORE!!!

Unfortunately these shows will continue though because the station makes money off of them. I just wish a cool one would finally come along. Like "The Suicide Hotline Show!" Or "The Kick Tim Geithner In the Balls Over and Over and Over Show!" Well, maybe that one's better for TV. I'd watch it though.

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Husband/Wife Commercials


Sometimes it will be a male/female friendship, but mostly it is a husband and wife team. I'm sure you've heard this type of commercial even if you don't know it. Why? Because they are everywhere and they've become one of the most cliche forms of a two-person spot. The format is ALWAYS the same and I'll lay it out for you now.

-It starts out with a perfectly reasonable conversation between the husband and wife. Partway through the husband says something stupid or just flat out acts like a child. The level-headed wife sternly shoots him down and the commercial always ends with the husband sheepishly apologizing or realizing he's been acting like a dumbass.

-The man is always the animated moron. The wife is always the sane one. It's never the other way around. The man is always a peppy, younger guy. The wife always comes across as having just a hint of "complete bitch" in her personality. And yes, I realize that makes no sense at all. Just try to play along. It's almost gotten to the point where I'm starting to wonder if this is some big conspiracy being played out by feminists to make society believe that men are completely insane and women are always smarter. It may be time to shut off my radio and get out the proverbial tin foil hat once again...

-The guy always apologizes at the end. It's supposed to be for comedic effect apparently. To me it just seems like a Simpsons gag that has been done several times before even though I can't pinpoint a specific case. It was probably funny when the Simpsons did it. I mean I think it's great that a lot of today's humor is Simpson-esque. The Simpsons came up with a lot of brilliant stuff and I've often seen it rub off on the way people act in everyday life. Sometimes you look at a scenario and think, "If the Simpsons never existed, this situation would play out completely differently." I'm getting off topic though. This type of apologetic ending really seems Simpson-esque to me. But it seems like it was written by a Simpsons viewer who maybe thinks they should have been writing for the Simpsons, but in reality they're just not that creative.

Just change it up already. Make the woman the insane one for once. I'm not saying this because I think women are insane, just because this type of commercial needs some variety for heaven's sake. That's if this type of commercial even needs to continue at all. I wouldn't miss it.

I don't know...have the insane guy at the end stand up for what he believes in instead of always apologizing. "Screw you! Screw you all! I am who I am and I like it! You're not going to ruin my fun just because you're a tall, frothy mug of cold, frosty bitch!" And then have We Are the Champions kick in or something. Well...maybe this isn't such a good idea. It doesn't seem to have any relevance to anything. But at least it's more fun.

Please, commercial writers. You're often referred to as the creative department. So USE SOME DAMN CREATIVITY FOR A CHANGE! That is all.


*Special thanks to MG for supplying the commercials*

Friday, April 10, 2009

Ghost Ridin' Da Whip


Dayum! Is "dayum" still relevant? Regardless, ghost riding is yet another aspect of "urban culture" that I simply do not get.

You put your vehicle in cruise control at 5-7 km/h, exit your vehicle, walk beside it dancing like a complete prick (grabbing your crotch with one hand and swinging the other hand in the air like you just don't care), and somehow you're badass. How? It's not that hard to do. It's just that most people don't because they understand how completely pointless it is.

This would be so much easier to rip into if I actually understood why people think this is cool. But I just don't get it. It's not like you're showing off an amazing talent that few people have. You're engaging in a meaningless activity and labelling it as cool.

This behaviour is nothing new, may I remind you. People were ghost riding 100 years ago too. Back then it was referred to as "leading your horse." If you maybe wanted to have a conversation with someone without shouting down to them like they were a peasant, you'd get off your horse and walk beside him leading him by the reins. Of course, back in those days, if you fucked it up the horse wouldn't crash itself into a ditch.

Don't you just love that?! When these 17-year old ghost riders realize their car is on a collision course and they don't quite make it back in time. I love seeing them pay the price for their stupidity. It always ends with the car facing sideways, well off the road or crashed into a pole. Likewise, it always ends with the pea-brained driver doing one of these numbers only without the helmet. Needless to say, they probably should be wearing one at all times.

What can I say though? When you finally fuck up your car really good or get your license suspended for being completely irresponsible, enjoy the scooter!

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Billy Bob Thornton


Billy Bob, you need some common sense. CBC Radio is generous enough to invite you and your band (which I'm guessing would go unheard of if you weren't already famous) to the station in order for you to promote an album. Something apparently got lodged up your ass during the interview and you got all prima donna on everyone. I say prima donna only because it seems like nobody has ever heard of the male counterpart, primo uomo. I'm a fucking nerd, I know.

Getting back on track. Thornton, you lost it because...oh yeah, the host of the show referred to your acting career. Aw, hail no. Not that. You might try using some logic sometime. People don't know who the Boxmasters are. People know who Billy Bob Thornton is. If the host introduced you without even mentioning your acting, people might start to believe there are two Billy Bob Thorntons or that the host did not mention your acting career because of his own ignorance of who you are. Neither is true. It makes perfect sense to mention that you've been in movies.

You then proceed to make the host's job a living nightmare. Interviewing someone of such fame is, I would imagine, at least a little intimidating even for the pros. This is when they're co-operative. Maybe the host doesn't care all that much for you but he has to come up with things to ask you and pretend to be interested because the boss told him so. When you pull this crap, you piss them off.

If it were my show I would politely tell you to "Get the Fuck Outta My Studio if you don't want to do this." The station does you a huge favour and you crap all over them. Get over yourself.

For someone who's a Boxmaster you sure seem to suck a lot of dick.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Cell Phones


I am a 65 year old man living in a 20-something year old's body. Some people say I'm living in the 60s. To some extent that's true, but I'm not a "Heeeeyy man...groovy." sort of person. I'm just kind of living in the past. I'm a young person who hates young people. Well, not all of them. Some of them are pretty sensible. But to get onto tonight's topic, some people can use cell phones responsibly, but (it seems) the majority of young people cannot.

PUT. DOWN. YOUR. FUCKING. CELL. PHONE.

I don't know how I can surpass that intensity on the internet. I feel like I'm still not getting the message across. Just put the fucking cell phone down for the love of God.

I can see how cell phones can be useful, don't get me wrong. Like when a jackass comes a-shooting up your American Citizenship class. Cell phone...pretty fucking helpful.

These empty-headed young people though...there are too many of them that flat out abuse their cell phones. Jesus Christ, every 10 minutes they're on their phones checking for messages or some shit. I really have to cut into the internet on cell phones. Why? Why? Again, unless you're being attacked by a crazed gunman and you have to get a final Rickroll in as you grasp for your final breaths, what is the fucking point? Wait until you get home to waste your life. I'm pretty sure Harry Truman never said, "God, I'm just going to lose my shit if I don't get on MSN like fucking IMMEDIATELY."

What is with this need to always be clicking phone buttons? People are so impatient. Everything has to be instant, real-time, high-speed, gimme gimme, now NOW! Fucking relax. People from 1910 are awesome. Why? Because they wrote letters with (HEART ATTACK WARNING!) a fucking pen and paper! And they expected that it would be a little while before they got a response to what they wrote. And when they got that response it was meaningful because they knew someone had taken the time out of their day to write them back. It wasn't some dim-witted 15 year old kid typing "LMAO" into his phone, standing next to the speaker at an Alexisonfire concert.

What am I trying to say? I get cell phones. I can see how they can be beneficial. But, goddamn, Louisiana trailer-park women with alcoholic husbands don't see the kind of abuse that kids give to their phones. Lay off the phone for five minutes and maybe you can look a few inches above your screen and finally see the face that goes with the voice that's been talking to you for all these years. Holy crap, that's me! I know, I totes sound different than I look!

I think I may have just discovered why nobody under the age of 50 pays any attention to me...

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Obama Chia Pets


The Obama Chia Pet is in the news because it's being pulled from Wallgreens stores supposedly because it's racist. It is racist. I don't see how anyone can think otherwise. This hate-toy should not only be pulled from shelves, it should be straight up outlawed. What kind of person thinks this is harmless?

Today I waited on hold for my lawyer trying to see if I have a case against McDonalds because I ate their food and I got fat. As I waited, I sent several angry letters to my MP urging him to ban Harry Potter books. They encourage children to practice witchcraft and if you can't see that, you're an idiot. I had Fox News on in the background and I almost missed the Obama Chia Pet story, being so engrossed in my important affairs.

But when I saw Obama's orange head on my TV with green shrubbery coming from the scalp, I was just livid. This is unacceptable. Am I supposed to just laugh this off? How dare you speak condescendingly to me when I take outrage to the fact that Chia has made a Pet that reflects Obama's and millions of other black peoples' natural hair type.

This is racism at it's finest. If I had made an Obama Chia Pet I would at least have the common courtesy to give him a mohawk and not draw attention to his actual hairstyle: short and wiry. This is just plain racist and it's baloney.

What kind of message does this send to my kids? That it's perfectly okay to create likenesses of the U.S. President and be completely realistic about it? I think not. I will not have my children running around in a world of truth. If they aren't outraged, they aren't paying attention.

I just thank God I have a lot of time on my hands or nobody would ever notice this unbelievably hateful toy. Thank God there are people like me who bring things like this to everyone else's attention. I'm dumbfounded by the number of people that just don't care though. They should be thanking me and kissing my feet. I'm doing God's work and most people tell me to shut up. I hate ignorant people.

Sorry I have to scram so soon, but I have an anti-homosexuality rally I simply must be at. You're welcome.

Monday, April 6, 2009

Flat-brimmed Hats


If Bizarro World actually does exist, I'm quite sure I've unknowingly ventured into it at some point in my life. The tip off would have to be flat-brimmed baseball caps and if they never came to be, I'd never have known.

Let me tell you something. When I was a kid, if you had the balls to pull this crap off, your ass would be kicked before second period was through. Flat-brimmed caps were the fashion statement that announced to your peers, "Look at me! I'm a complete square! Fresh meat, right here!"

When I was a kid, this was your baseball cap and often times it looked even worse. If you weren't rocking a torn-up, sweat-stained, dirty Leafs cap with a curve that looked that the top of a coffee mug, you weren't cool.

But time passed and urban/hip hop culture prevailed and here we are in an era where this shit is the bee's knees. When I was 10, black kids didn't even wear hats. Then again, I live in the whitest town in Canada. But now every unenlightened Soulja Boy wannabe is walking around with these fashion atrocities on their heads. I mean, if flat-brimmed hats are an undisputed absolute necessity in our stupid world, give 'em to the black kids. They still look ridiculous wearing them, but they pull it off a thousand times better than any white kid. White kids wearing flat-brimmed hats are a sure sign that inbreeding is running rampant in our society. I can think of no other reason for this shit.

I must be getting older. When I was a teenager, I didn't understand teenagers. At this point I understand them even less. I understand that they do these things to be cool and fashionable, but I don't understand WHY people find these things cool. Why is no curve in your hat cool? Why are spotless, white shoes cool? Why are grills cool? Grills, holy fuck. If it takes you five minutes for you to explain to me why flat-brimmed hats are fashionable, it's going to take you about 9 days to get grills through my head.

This is actually starting to make my head spin so I'm just going to go ahead and blame Soulja Boy. I'm lazy and I need a scapegoat. So screw you, Soulja Boy, you're the reason our kids are so fucking goofy looking. While I'm at it, I'll blame the economy on you too, for no particular reason. I'm sick of thinking of that as well so I might as well kill two birds with one stone.

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Sports "Experts"


I was downtown riding the subway last night minding my own business, when all of a sudden the doors slide open and I realize immediately that a hockey game has just ended at the Air Canada Centre. Hoards of loud, drunken, semi-intelligent, 20-something alpha-males pile on board and my quiet night vanishes.

"Here we go again," I thought, "give it about 7 seconds before any hint of intellectual conversation that might have been happening on this train is drowned out by this mob of hockey know-it-alls." Was I correct, you ask? Come on now, of course I was! I'm never wrong.

I just don't understand the appeal of sports talk. Some people can go on and on and on forever talking about something as trivial as a game. I'm looking in your direction, TSN. How can they do this and why would they want to? My God, just enjoy the game and move on with your life. I don't need hours of post-game commentary. Trust me, you're not doing me any favours by rattling off a bunch of scores and player names and sports jargon as I sit there gaping at you, trying to figure out what the hell you're talking about. It's just not important, Brock, it's just not important.

Remember, I'm talking about post-game here. I haven't touched on these walking sports encyclopedias that won't keep their comments to themselves during the game. God, if you do exist, I'm sorry I ever doubted your existence, yada, yada, but I beg you to make these people shut...the fuck...UP! Every 8 seconds, for Pete's sake, they've got to chime in with some meaningless piece of information about a random player.

And I think deep down they know it's meaningless. But they spout off these short bits of trivia anyway because they think other people will hear them and think, "Boy, this guy really knows his stuff." It's a status thing, nothing more. They won't admit it, but I think deep down all they want is for their dumb buddies to get on the phone with ESPN and rave. "Have you heard of my buddy? He really knows a lot about football. He does critiques of different plays and posts them on Youtube. They get ranked pretty high every time. He's really good. Can I give you his Youtube address?...Hello?...Hello?"

Just go home. You're not impressing anyone. Put the beer mug down, hang up the Cheeto-stained jersey, and get a damn job, Brock.

Saturday, April 4, 2009

Guitar Hero


This is it, folks. Guitar Hero is never going to end. It started with Aerosmith and then Metallica. There are rumours of a Van Halen game and a Hendrix game. I think you can see where this is going. They're just going to keep making Guitar Hero games for every guitarist who ever lived. Guitar Hero: Clapton, Guitar Hero: Zeppelin, I'm pretty sure you'll see them eventually.

When I'm 70 years old I'll still be hearing morons shitting a brick over the new Guitar Hero. It's never going to end. Well, not never. It'll end sometime, but not in the near future. They'll run out of good bands eventually and I hope when that happens they'll call it in. The minute I hear of Guitar Hero: Jonas Brothers I'm going to get my knife.

Why do idiots think they're God's gift to the world when they can finally play Dragonforce? It's stupid. It shouldn't even be called Guitar Hero. It should be called Faggoty Plastic Toy Hero. Morons post videos on Youtube of their friend playing "Through the Fire and Flames" and get all worked up about it. It's always some wiry teenage fucker wearing a baseball cap over his eyes and the whole video is just him standing there going click-click-click-click-click-click-click-click-click-click-click-click. He doesn't whoop or cheer when he finishes the song, no, he puts on his "I'm such a badass" attitude. Congratulations. You are now adequate at manipulating a children's toy. I bow down to you, sir.

I'm not going to waste my time with paragraphs telling these people to pick up a real instrument and do something useful. It's been done, just like complaining about Guitar Hero. But I strongly suggest that these people re-evaluate their hobbies.

Seriously, enough Guitar Hero. Just give it a rest. This also goes for Rock Band, or as I like to call it, Faggots Bashing Plastic and Rubber Rhythmically.

Friday, April 3, 2009

Washing the Dishes


Man, I really have to start doing my Friday entries earlier in the day. I've often skipped Fridays because it comes down to crunch time and I just want to get the fuck to the bar. So here's an entry that I "put a lot of effort into."

Washing the dishes. It's not that I have a problem with having clean dishes. It's not like it's torture either. There are just a bunch of little things about doing the dishes that make me wish I didn't have to do them.

1)I don't have time. I'm a very busy person. I simply don't have enough time in my schedule between procrastinating and being completely unproductive to squeeze in something like washing the dishes.

2)When you have long curly hair, looking down is a bit of a chore. Hair sticks to other hair and becomes a mess in front of your face. When you keep brushing it away with soapy, wet hands, pretty soon you look like you've been trying to shampoo only the hair that outlines your face.

3)I'm kind of like a cat. I really don't like to get wet I don't have to. I feel entirely different when it comes to getting girls wet, however.

4)I live with people who eat some disgusting things from time to time. It's hard not to at least cringe when you pick up a plate that looks as though somebody took a beer shit directly on top of it.

5)The towel gets too damn wet before I'm finished drying. I don't want to bust out a new towel with 4 dishes left to dry, but on the other hand, I don't want to feel like I'm wiping them down like a donut shop employee wipes down a table.

Seriously, I hope someday I have a robot that can do the dishes for me. Someone should work on that. A robot that does peoples' dishes. Imagine if you never had to never had to wash dishes again! It would all be done by machine.

My god, what the future holds for us, folks...

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Consensual Living


Holy jumpin' shitballs, I want to puke.

Consensual living has been a hot topic in Toronto today. I was not aware of it until today and a part of me wishes I could go back in time one day and warn myself, "For the love of God, man, do not absorb the media in any way tomorrow. I won't tell you why, but it's for your own good."

Now, if you don't know, consensual living is a really, really dumb parenting technique that focuses on negotiating with your child instead of setting rules. Here's an example from a Globe and Mail article from today:

Recently, the principles of consensual living have helped her cope with her son's hitting stage, she says.

When Kiernen strikes another child, Ms. Keller asks him what he's feeling and whether he'd like to express his anger or frustration in another way, such as using words or hitting a pillow.

She tells him it's not okay to hit others, but she and her husband, Josh, do not force Kiernen to say he's sorry. "If he's going to apologize, we want it to be authentic," Ms. Keller says.


Are you getting this? Jesus, grow up and learn some responsible parenting, you hippie. These fucking parents' judgements are so clouded over. For some reason they think the best approach to raising their precious little snowflakes* is to be their friend and their equal. Bullocks! You are a parent. It is your job to have authority over your children and set guidelines that must be followed in order for them to grow up with a sense of reality and to be decent people.

Wait until these kids actually grow up and have to face the real world. The world where rules exist and there are things that won't be negotiable. Where everything is not handed to them just because they want it. If you keep pampering them like this, they're going to have a hard time later in life. Discipline your kids. When they grow up and move out, then they can make the rules.

This is just so ridiculous they way parents get pansier with each generation. Back in the day if you did something wrong your father took off his belt and gave you a few good whoops. Back in the day parents spanked their children. Then we started becoming complete pussies and decided it was cruel and spanking went bye-bye. We started punishing kids with "time out." That oughta teach 'em. Make them stand in the corner for 10 minutes.

Wait a second. No...time out is a bad thing. The child isn't getting the attention they need and it might cause them to rebel. Let's not punish the child. Let's talk to the child about their feelings and get them to open up to us. That's surely the best and most healthy thing to do in our parent-child relationship. After all we're equals. Let's compromise without being too forceful. Being forceful is not good for the child's behaviour and could damage the bond we share.

Bull-shit, I say. When I acted out as a child, my father would pick me up and heave me head-first right through my second-story bedroom window. As I picked the shards of glass from my face I would say to myself, "Christ, I ain't doing that shit any more." And of course the old man would hear me and give me a few jabs to the teeth for swearing.

There was a bit of pain and a few broken windows in my childhood. But you know...I never committed the same crime twice.

*Thank you, Mike Stafford.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Announcement: Get the Fuck Outta My Office now on Twitter

I'll have a real post later on today, but I thought I'd mention this separately.

Fuck it. Bob Dylan was right. "You better start swimming or you'll sink like a stone, for the times they are a-changing." If I keep saying no to advances in technology, pretty soon I'll be a guy who, by today's standards, still uses a rotary phone.

Go ahead, get it over with, say your "Ha!" But Get the Fuck Outta My Office is now on Twitter. Mostly because I have a shit ton of things I'd like to address on my list but they just don't warrant a full posting. As much as I don't like them, there simply isn't enough to write about to make it a full entry without making it sound contrived.

So check out the list on Twitter and who knows, there could be multiple tweets per day on different mini-subjects.

Follow me, yo! www.twitter.com/getthefuckouttamyoffice

-Get the Fuck Outta My Office