Let Me Fucking Entertain You!

Ah…Nothing warms the heart more than watching your precious little DNA deposit take the stage in a school play.  And nothing empties your pockets like letting your precious reminder that the next generation better learn to read a fucking book instead of using that goddamn texting bullshit….Whoops…Lost my train of thought…Where was I?  Oh, yes.  Nothing empties your pockets like letting them sign up in the first place!  When my darling child came home, eyes wide with the thirst for the spotlight and a stack of paperwork that could provide toilet paper for a few weeks, I knew we were in for trouble.  What they should have sent home was a fat tube of KY to help ease the pain.  Because baby, we could barely sit right in the seats when the curtain went up!

Why the hell do we have to pay so much to keep our kids busy?  When the fuck did being a child mean taking out a personal loan or pissing off every single member of your family by shoving ANOTHER fucking cheesecake brochure under their noses??  I remember the days of goofing off, playing until the street lights came in and trying not to trip over the home-sewn hemline of my costume on stage.  When we went to the school to see the play, I expected to see tuxedos and limos dropping parents off from how much they asked for up front.  And that’s not before you hit the snack stand!  (They got a lot of nerve to charge 50 cents for a thing that was supposed to be a brownie, but looked like something stepped in and scraped into a pan and baked on 400 degrees for a couple of hours.  And it was about the size of postage stamp!)  When the curtain went up, late despite the BITCHING the kids received if they didn’t show up to the 1500 practices on time, we waited with baited breath to see the fruits of labor.  And I gotta say, “THOSE SICK FUCKERS FROM HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL FUCKED EVERYTHING UP!!!!”  The costumes were lovely.  The set, impressive.  The acting…well, it’s a fucking school musical, not Andrew Lloyd Webber’s latest hit.  The music…Since I had friend’s playing in the “orchestra” I’ll be nice.  It was…fitting.  The dancing?  OMFG, I’ve seen youtube videos of prisoners dancing to Thriller that had more imagination!  Basically, it was a fucking school musical! So tell me, WHAT THE FUCK DID WE PAY YOU FOR??

Sitting in the audience I was struck by a sudden thought.  “I so need to become a director for school musicals because they get paid to do shit I do for free!!”  Get kids’ attention.  Attempt to have them follow simple directions.  Get the kids’ attention.  Drill words into their heads until they are able to regurgitate something close to English language.  Get the kids’ attention.  Show them how to put one foot in front of the other without falling over and laughing like an idiot.  GET THE KID’S FUCKING ATTENTION!!!  That complete with the added bonus of being a complete control freak with a bitchy, stupid side and I’m TOTALLY ready to sign up!  Do they offer that job to someone who would actually be able to sympathize with the life of a family with no money to be tossing around?  Nope.  They give it to a bitch with a Napoleon complex.  So we get treated to little messages from our kids of her incessant demands.  She’s far too important to talk to us little people.  Unless she needs us to bend over and give a little bit more.

It would be fine if we had a say in anything, but to make matters even better, the rehearsals were closed to parents.  Not that my husband was mourning the fact that he didn’t have to watch someone teach the same box step over and over again for three hours.  But to close it off means something’s up….My kids know they have zero right to privacy and are subject to random checks for contraband or notes from teaches.  So why shouldn’t my child’s activity be open as well?  Later we found out that it’s easier to screech like a like a monkey that just zipped it’s nuts into the zipper.  She went bat shit crazy over everything.  And the final result?  A typical school musical complete with all the expected forgotten lines, broken characters, mic issues, left-right drama and injuries.  But surely, that can’t be what was envisioned all those months ago when we were given the overall deal.  Oh, wait…It should have been!  Get off your high horse lady, you ain’t in private school.  Our kids can barely read, they’re fucking like bunnies, they can’t talk in complete sentences and the only college most of them are going to features the words clown, burger, or Santa.  The parents are robbing Peter to pay Paul, struggling to keep their sanity, and lucky to not get a murder charge for fucking up one of the little bastards,

The last thing any of us needs is a chick that believes that we can shell out money for every fundraiser they have, every shirt they need, tickets (And we HAD to sell a certain number of them in advance to “qualify” for the fucking “cast” party…Don’t EVEN get me started on that!) and balloons and flowers as a cheap congratulatory gift for giving up their lives to that bitch for five months!  What we needed was to be left alone to sit back and marvel at how hard our kids worked to put on a great show.  Why?  Because it’s supposed to be fun.  It’s not a job.  It’s not a requirement to move on in life.  It’s supposed to be fun for them, entertaining for us.  So to the sour faced, uptight, petty (taking a part away from someone two weeks before opening night because you don’t feel they embraced the character properly is cruel, you cunt!), stuck-up, controlling, delusional, manipulative, untalented piece of short, twice eaten dog shit, I give your directing skills one finger up.  Feel free to guess which one. 

The ironic kicker?  My baby’s main moment came during a dance where his hood fell over his face, making it impossible to see and he didn’t miss a beat.  Even when he picked up his letter to hold up to spell out a name and didn’t realize it was upside because he DIDN’T BREAK FUCKING CHARACTER like he was taught from his father and I, veterans of the same school musical!  And at the end of the show, what did we do when our baby, who didn’t have a speaking part, came walking out for curtain calls and took a bow with the chorus?  We jumped to our feet and screamed our lungs out like it was a Broadway hit.  Why?  Because THAT’S what we fucking came to do!  So, to you sour, cranky, bitchy, petty (Taking a part away from a child two weeks before the curtain goes up because you don’t think they captured the character properly is cruel, you fucking cunt!), manipulative, mean, controlling, untalented, stuck-up, condescending, ugly piece of hot regurgitated dog shit, we’ll give your play one finger up.  Guess which one?  Exit stage left, bitch!

Thank you for flying Fucktardia Airlines!

Ladies and gentleman we want to take a moment to thank you for choosing Fucktardia Airlines for today's journey.  We will be taxing away from the terminal in just a moment so please feel free to look out the window and wave good-bye to all of your friends and relatives that have purchased your seats on today's flight.  Make sure to fasten your seat belts as you will be slapped around by fate a time or two before we land in lovely Fucktardia, off the coast of Hell.  In the event of a water landing, please remember to bend over and stick your head up your own ass and use it as a breathing apparatus.  Don't mind the smell as you are probably used to it, being completely full of shit as you all are.

If you look out to your left, you will see the beautiful lives that you've destroyed and the people that you've offended and irritated for the last fucking time.  While you were once a functioning member of regular society, you have chosen to contribute nothing lately and have actively become a pimple on the ass of life.  The balmy weather of the life you're leaving is nothing compared to scorching hot temperatures of Fucktardia because in Fucktardia, they know that nothing is more fitting for assholes like yourselves then to burn hotter than hemorrhoids for the rest of your unnatural lives.

On your right, this is -such- a great treat for all you bastards that love to do nothing more than fuck over the people foolish enough to love you in any way, it's called Moving On Mountain!  Isn't it beautiful?  Just look at the happy people climbing out of the swamp of despair you left them sinking in and see them work their way out to find people worthy of the gift that you threw away so thoughtlessly.  Let's have a hand for these brave, wonderful people!

Oh, now this IS a treat!  As the plane banks to your left, if you look toward the rear of the plane you can see Get A Clue Canyon!  It's a popular spot where thinking individuals frequent to brush up on the finer points in life all of you jackasses couldn't be bothered with.  You know....common sense, compassion, understanding....No?  I'm seeing a lot of confused faces here...Um...let me see if I can explain....Life isn't all about you.  There is a wide world of people out here that seem to learn how to live together and they frequently try to help morons like yourselves by giving you clues to how they feel and what they need.  They actually try very hard to give these clues to you but end up tossing them into Get A Clue Canyon since you all can't process anything that isn't actually affecting your personal existence.  So, others pick up the clues that you so diligently leave behind.

We are now about minutes away from our landing area.  Please form an orderly line at the side doors, don't worry about the fact that we don't seem to be slowing down.  We as a society decided long ago that your kind wasn't fit to live anyway so this is your one and only chance to take a flying leap.  But to aid in your hasty exit from our lives, we did put down a cushion to help you land.  This way you can begin your life on the island of Fucktardia, home of the biggest and baddest fucktards that life has to offer.  Um, yes...you there with your hand up.  Oh, a return flight?  Um...how can I put this gently....?  No one wants you in their lives anymore so we've classified Fucktardia as an island with no outside contact.  Yes, other than that big mat down there, we've done as much to make your lives here pleasant as you have done for ours all the years we've known you.  So, before you all get the fuck out of here, allow me to thank you once again for flying Fucktardia Airlines.  I'm your flight attendant Kissa Meassa and it has been a distinct displeasure to be near you in any capacity for longer than a millisecond.  If you tire of Fucktardia, just remember you can hop in the water and go to Hell.

The Last Will And Testament Of Kissa Meassa

This document was found among all of the balled up tissues and empty bottles of Tylenol following a horrifying bought with the flu.

I, Kissa Olive Meassa, being of foggy mind and sore, feverish body do hereby bequeath all of my worldly possessions to the first person who discovers a cure for the flu. I'm not talking about the "cures your symptoms for four to six hours and then fades away leaving you in a crying, puking ball of feverish snot" medicine. I want my crap to go to the one that invents the "holy shit! I can run, skip, dance, do advanced mathematical computations and dropped four dress sizes" wonder stuff! It can't wear off, it has to actually cure. If you are the lucky person who is able to invent such an advancement in medical technology then here's what you get:

1. Half my family's debt – Don't let it fool you, it's a fortune! Now, you may be dodging some phone calls for a few years and getting some threatening letters, but don't let that scare you. If you can hold out longer than they can, they might just forget the whole damn thing and walk away. So I'm doing you a favor by showing you how the rest of the real world actually has to live, thus reminding you that your medicine had BETTER be priced to allow people like me to afford it.
   
2. Half custody of my kids – Now this one may seem a bit alarming, but look at it this way, they help out a TON on tax return info! Not to mention, little hands can stir lots of little beakers in your labs. But no testing on my babies. I'll come back from the dead and beat the ever living shit outta you!
   
3. Half ownership of my husband – He might not like this one at first, but ladies, this should be an incentive for you to all up your game…He's hot…he's well-endowed….he's eager to please….*wink, wink*
   
4. Half of my crap – That's all the rest of the stuff that's floating around the house. If you feel like cleaning it, come and get it.
   

That's all I can leave for you, but this should make you work all that more diligently toward finding a cure. I know I'm fading fast…It's getting darker and darker…wait….never mind, it's actually getting dark out, but I know that if I could take my temperature I would see that it says 500 degrees. Sadly, it's at the foot of the bed and out of my immediate fingertip range, so we'll never know. As for my family, know that I loved you all and I'm sorry I didn't think a flu shot was needed. I WAS WRONG! I'm lying here in the dark, waiting for the sweet mist of oblivion to take me away…Oddly, it feels like the same sweet mist Nyquil brings…Damn it!!!! Stupid husband doped me up again! Ah, screw this….None of you rat bastards can have any of my fucking stuff. I'm keeping it all! You can all just….

 

Signed,

Kissa Olive Meassa

Mind Your Own Fucking Business

Hey gang, I'm back after a very restful and much needed internet break. I had a very lovely Valentine's Weekend and after giving my brain cells a vacation from the fast-paced world of online communications, I'm back and ready to start talking!

While relaxing in the hotel on Valentine's morning, I glanced up at the local news on the television as I enjoyed tasty scrambled eggs with American cheese. Finally calming down from my amazement at how the room service cart turned into a full sized dining table right in our room, I was amused at the teaser given about a teacher that had been up to something scandalous with her blog. When they came back from commercial and got through all the bullshit weather crap, they gave us the story of Natalie Munroe.

She is an English teacher who decided to create a blog (http://natalieshandbasket.blogspot.com/) to do what most of us do all the time, get shit out of our head before it explodes. She kept her blog anonymous and never used any real names. She wrote about her life as a mother, a wife, a woman and a teacher. She gave no geographical information and never disclosed her place of employment. She spoke about how her students were disrespectful, crude, lazy and disobedient. She didn't specify what grade they were in, what they looked like, or anything that could be used to identify them. She wrote 84 blogs between August 2009 and November 2010. She had nine followers, including herself and her husband; the others were friends of hers. Of her 84 postings, 24 were about or mentioned work. So, why is she on the local news? She committed the act of being discovered by a few students and parents. Somehow, these diligent web crawlers found her blog and took offense at her language and description of the students she worked with. The school took the proactive approach of suspending her and marching her out of the building, flanked by the principal and a security guard. Never mind the fact that she's eight and half months pregnant and hardly in a condition to fight. The hard hitting news report featured interviews with offended students and parents demanding an apology and teachers shocked by their colleague's lack of remorse for her vulgar actions. Then came the response from Natalie, she's not sorry and she's not apologizing. Fucking right on, Natalie!

She wrote an anonymous blog about her life and because some students decided to become investigators, she has to apologize for how she feels about the little bastards she has to attempt to educate? Why? What did she do wrong? Did she post the GPA of a particular dipshit? Did she upload shots taken on her cell of a pimple faced asshole as she handed the principal a write up? Did she post a picture of herself outside of the school proudly flashing the middle finger?? No? Then why the fuck gives that school the right to suspend a qualified teacher who did nothing but exercise her first amendment right of freedom of speech? She never slandered anyone and didn't identify herself in the postings. She signed her blog as Natalie M. She took care to respect the privacy of others, so why is she being forced to answer for sins she didn't commit? Any student in that school has the right to create a blog of their own slamming any teacher or administrator that they see fit. Most have Facebook pages featuring updates about the pains of being a teenage high school student. These all use actual names and identifying information. So why aren't they being escorted out of the building along with her? According to the news report, it's because teachers are being held to a higher standard. To that I say, "Fuck you and the horse you rode in on!"

Becoming an educator, politician, television evangelist or parent in no way negates your right to be a human being. You have the right to bitch about your job and if you take care to remove any identifying information and protect your identity as well, you have the right to use the same outlets that the rest of the country uses. She didn't degrade any student in detail and after reading her posts, she didn't lie either! In fact, she nailed these little irritating, hormonal lumps! They are moody, disrespectful, disgusting, sexually promiscuous and a terrifying glimpse into our country's future. The nosy little fuckers that read her posts and recognized themselves shouldn't have been offended, they should have been ashamed! They brought national attention on themselves by opening up their mouths and reading stuff that wasn't meant for them. If they had kept their noses out of her blog, the news would never have shed light on this woman's harmless outlet for her personal thoughts. She took the chance to use a release that so many of us enjoy and by being self-righteous little tattlers, her life is being shoved into the media for all to scrutinize. And they want her to apologize?

They ought to write a personal apology to her and their parents for being such horrible creatures in the first place. The parents need to be smacked in the back of the head for even taking this outside of their home. What they should have done was turn around and slap the shit out of their little DNA disappointment for being terrible little creatures mentioned in her posting. Then they should march themselves over to this woman's house to apologize for not doing more to teach their children to be respectful and a better example of their generation. Hey parents, your little bundles of joy are actually pain in the ass teenagers that make everyone's life a living hell and you do nothing to discipline them. You spoil them and protect them from the results of their actions. You teach them that they have a right to be respected even though they do nothing to earn it. You teach them that as long as they are young, there are no real consequences for their actions and that you will never hold them accountable for their bad decisions. They make it difficult to teach them the basic things they need to know to survive life outside of your house and they are a disgrace of your name. The things they do outside of your presence would horrify you and if you saw what they are actually like, you'd be less inclined to defend it. Your children make blogs like Natalie's necessary. Your children are the reason this country is so quick to sue for shit that has no business even being brought to a court. You are a poor example of a responsible parent because you have the nerve to violate this woman's privacy and demand that she give your child an apology for doing something that you and your child do freely. She spoke her mind and did it with a damn sight more class then you all did. She didn't expose your rotten children for the losers that they are to the media. She didn't stand in front of a camera and demand that you apologize for you not taking responsibility for your actions or lack of in regards to teaching your child respect. She wrote a message to her friends letting off steam that could have been taken into the classroom and delivered to the students directly. Instead, she wrote them down in a way that respected their rights and protected their identity. Yes, occasionally she used a bad word or two. So what? It's her fucking right! And it was your kid's fucking right to mind their own damned business! If they didn't like what they read, then they should have closed the window and moved on. Every one of those parents and students owe her family a HUGE fucking apology for shoving them into the media.

And finally, the school needs to get on their knees and beg forgiveness for ever making this a big deal. Instead of trying to please Mommy and Daddy, they should have told them to pay more attention to the message that was written. They are so scared of bad publicity that they don't even bother to do their damn jobs! You would rather suspend an excellent teacher for using her talent for writing to express herself creatively than suspend the little bastard mouthing off regularly in class? I hope that this becomes the biggest embarrassment to the Central Bucks East High School and that they realize the error of their ways. Protect your teachers and stop bowing to pressure from offended parents and pampered delinquents. Otherwise, create a policy that forbids any teacher, administrator, staff, or student from using any social media site in any way. Prevent all people in your district from expressing themselves in any manner and create a taskforce that does nothing but scan the internet for any mention of your school in a derogatory manner. Make sure that they become full-time Facebook patrollers that monitor any mention of any student, teacher, staff member, administrator or parent. Unless you can do that, give Natalie back her job immediately and get back to work. And stay out of MY fucking blog!

And The Award For Biggest Fucking Loser For 2011 So Far Goes To…

Man, today is the WORST day for me to have to type with my new nails (a part of a very sweet Valentine's Day gift from my sweetheart) because I have to slow down my typing. I got the head's up from Pat to check the local paper yesterday to read about a janitor that hit a kid in the school district. I got distracted and didn't get to read it until a few minutes ago. Reading it made my fingers itch, so let's get to it!

Kid helps clean cafeteria. Kid is being smartass and throws damp rag at janitor. Janitor is 5 foot 2 inches tall. Most kids in that school are taller. Janitor goes to kid's class and smacks him around in front of everyone. Teacher tells class to stay seated. Other students break up fight as teacher stands by watching. Little janitor is hauled away the next day by police. That's the general breakdown of all the players In the story and the nominees for BIGGEST FUCKING LOSER 2011!

At my old elementary school, some things never change. Kids are disrespectful little bastards and the favorite target to direct their torment to that goes unpunished will always be the janitor. The janitor is an adult, but one that has very little authority in the school and is given the thankless task of cleaning up after rude little shits all day long. Most are not very attractive and they usually are pretty quiet. A perfect target for loser bullies-in-training. They put up with shit that would get a kid knocked out if they did it to their parents. And they do all this to get paid next to nothing. Sometimes, psychos get past the district diligent screening process, a background check to see if you ever tossed a kid against a wall or committed grand larceny. Forget covering important things like, "Do you understand that you can't actually beat the hell out of a little prick if they disrespect you?" or " You are in no position to discipline a child with playground style justice."

No need to cover topics like that with a man small enough to stand eye to eye with my 10 year old. Clearly this is a man who has never found his height to be an issue and he probably has found that being small takes him so far in life that becoming a school janitor is a daily celebration for him. What we need to do is make sure that someone like this is placed in direct contact with arrogant little fuckers who have never been taught by their parents to respect adults, no matter their size or occupation. That will show that we value our lovely tiny cleaner and we're responsible educators! What could go wrong? This is a well thought out plan complete with a responsible teacher who would dive in front of a student to protect them from an attack by an obviously deranged adult.

Wait…what was that last part? She did run to her student's aid and protect him from an adult beating his ass in her classroom, right? I mean, only a completely incompetent, fucking worthless, lump of dog shit would stand by and let a child get smacked around by an adult that wasn't in any way related to the child as her entire class witnesses it. And our district only hires the very best educators that minimum wage has to offer! They know that we put our children's lives and minds in their hands everyday and they wouldn't hire immature crack heads who sooner scold the class for standing up and reacting to the horrifying act over the mentally deranged leprechaun who decided to be the shillelagh off of her student.

So, who should receive the award? The honor of being the biggest fucking loser 2011 has to offer so far? Let's give a big hand to LaToya Robinson, folks! Yes, she is a shining example of how an educated person who has taken on the dubious task of teaching some of our community's most disrespectful, annoying, vulgar, angering delinquents can still manage to look like cat vomit compared to a tiny Incredible Hulk trying to settle a score with an 11-year old! She is the epitome of dedication and control. By her deciding to tell her class to remain seated, she shows us that the most important thing to do in a crisis like this is to sit back and watch because we all know the police are going to need plenty of witness accounts and it's easier to say what happened if you stand back and view the whole scene. No need to protect the child from assault because we parents have done an amazing job of teaching our children that we protect children from attacks from adults. Students became enraged by the sight before them and selflessly inserted their young bodies into the altercation and moved Mighty Mouse away from his prepubescent punching bag. Here they come to save day! And does Ms. Robinson instantly race to the phone to call the main office to let them know that a lunatic entered her classroom and punched a child? No! She spares the district the hassle of having to report this to the authorities by doing…NOTHING! My heart swells with pride at Ms. Robinson's heroic deeds! She knew she had a job to do and nothing was going to distract her from that. Her job is to continue to teach her class all they need to know to pass the state standard achievement test and nothing more! She is not a bodyguard, she is not a protector of young lives, she is not a hero, she is a teacher, damn it! So on your feet people and raise a finger in salute to LaToya Robinson, Biggest Fucking Loser Of 2011 So Far! Ms. Robinson, this well manicured finger is for you, congratulations!

Who The Fuck Comes Up With This Shit?

Hey gang, sorry I didn't post yesterday, but with my lovely hormones raging, it wouldn't have been a very nice post. During that special time in my life, the voices in my head say some truly bizarre things and most are not fit for sharing. Here's today's post.

Like most American's, I look forward to Super Bowl Sunday. For all my non-American friends, this is a day reserved for the ultimate game of professional football, (not soccer, football. Deal with it.) and has a very odd tradition of being THE day to watch commercials. Yes, we have made commercial watching a sport! In between plays on the field, millions glue themselves to the television, not to keep track of a battle of which team owns the field, but to find out what will become the best commercial of the Super Bowl. For years, if you wanted to see the funny, innovative, unusual, or just plain fucking expensive commercials, you had to sit through a game that unless you gave a flying shit about either team, your life would be just as wonderful without it. Then came the invention of the internet! No longer do I have to pretend that I give a flea's fart about the game and I can enjoy the commercials anytime I want online.

I was busy last Sunday, so I totally forgot about the game and I was surprised to see that most of the people in the Wal-Mart with Pat and I seemed not to give a damn either, probably because our home team didn't make it this year. We still throw support to the Steelers since they're from our state, but honestly, we'd rather be shopping than watching. Realizing that I had missed the commercials, I decided today to look them up to see all the cool stuff I missed. So far, I've gotten through the first quarter commercials and part of the second. At best, I gave a chuckle at the wife that threw a can of Pepsi upside a chick's head when her husband, who was checking the chick out, ducked and she missed. Out of 21 commercials, NONE were anything worth seeing!

Why are companies relying on fucking loser dipshits that probably live in their parent's basement, playing fantasy games while jerking off to Queen Amidala posters on their wall for their advertising focus groups? Who the fuck thinks that these dumbass commercials featuring smiling morons and computer generated dragons are going to make us suddenly say "Yes the product is grossly expensive and it tastes like piss water, but damn it, I gotta have it because that commercial made me realize that I need to purchase it right now?" These were the most boring, unoriginal, corny, lame, retarded commercials I've seen in a while. What happened to the days of coming up with a funny, catchy slogan or a commercial that's so awesome that you have to send it to your friend? Even annoying commercials like the old Budwiser "Wuzzup" had a catchphrase that lived well past the point of being funny! I know that traditionally the commercials shown during the game are supposed to be targeting a certain audience, males 18-49, but when are they going to realize that once the game is over, they have to try to use those things again to sell to the rest of us?

Quizzno's used to have a talking…I have no idea what that thing was, poop? It was, and always will be, one of the worst fucking things I've ever had the misfortune of fast forwarding through. I have never in my life wanted to eat at that place and showing talking poop or a fucked up squirrel is going to change my mind. If the food tastes good, I'll never know because I can't shake the image of that nasty fucking thing making me go, "why the fuck did they just show me that?" The latest trend in car commercials is to do shit that has NOTHING to do with what you'd ever use the car for, like watching your child run toward your car while he's being chased by a group of bullies and smiling sweetly as he dives into the trunk and quickly buckles his seatbelt and makes faces at the bullies. (I so would have loved for that mom to tell him to get out and put his backpack in the house while the kids were standing there to see his oh shit face!) They also like to have annoying little shits with hair that needs to be cut talking like they have a hard life of dealing with parents who seem to have never slapped the ever loving crap out of him for opening his smartass mouth. (You don't like what your parents are singing? Get the fuck out and walk, you little bastards!) Or they show the cars driving down the streets not doing anything special at all with the words "Do not attempt. Professional driver on a closed course." This is soooo helpful! I was going to take my car out on a city street to and drive with both hands on the wheel! Thank goodness that you told me not to try THAT! Much safer to talk on my phone while flipping off the cab that just cut in front of me as I circle the building for the eighth time looking for a parking space!

The top commercial of Super Bowl XLV was so damn stupid, I thought I had watched the wrong one! There was absolutely no way that a damn kid wearing a Darth Vader costume and trying to "use the force" on things, learning that he can't because IT'S NOT FUCKING REAL, and standing in front of his father's new car holding out his hands to use his "powers" on it as Mom and Dad stand in the kitchen watching their precious DNA disappointment prove that there is no real use for a college fund. Finally, in an attempt to continue to let this spoiled, future bully target believe what so many basement dwelling manchildren pray for every night, he hits the remote start making the car come to life. I have children, small children and I can assure you, not one has ever believed that they had a magical power to start a car. The second that the car would have started, they would have looked around to see where we were because they know how a remote start works. Why? Because they have fucking brain cells. Instead of buying that kid an expensive way to embarrass them in front of company when he races into a room declaring that he their father, buy the kid a damn book. Or teach him how to throw a ball. Teach him anything that may make up for the fact that you didn't realize that kids get their asses kicked for doing far less dorky things. Most importantly, DON'T FUCKING TRICK ME INTO THINKING THAT THIS IS A FUNNY OR WORTHWHILE COMMERCIAL THAT I NEED TO SEE TO IN ORDER TO DECIDE TO BUY YOUR OVEREXPENSIVE PIECE OF SHIT!

By the time I got to that little gem and saw that it was the "best" commercial of the game, I stopped looking at the rest. What would be the point when clearly all they are showing is shit? I'm not going to waste my time watching a man suck Dorito flavor off a co-worker's fingers or snatch another's pants off and sniff them. (That one was so bizarre that I waited to see if he'd start sucking on the pants before deciding to just get on his knees and suck the guy off!) Advertisers have given up trying to appeal to intellect or actual humor. No more will we see clever commercials like my personal favorite, the Citibank identity theft ones with the voiceovers. (Whatever! It lifts and separates!) No more will we smile as we hear a unique catchphrase like "time to make the doughnuts" or "where's the beef". Companies have now given control of our televisions to 13 year old boys who are fascinated with boobs and farts. Watching these disasters, I couldn't help but hear their target group laughing in my head. Bevis and Butthead, this is your year, here's the remote. I'm going to read a fucking book instead.

Think Before You Fucking Speak!

Can I ask you a question? Why on earth do people seem to ask permission to ask you a question? Just by saying that sentence you've already asked the fucking question! Spit it out!!! Stop asking people for permission to irritate the hell out of them! As much as this question annoys the hell out of me, I'm guilty of it at times too. I think everyone has those moments when we do things that would normally drive us up a wall. Here are a few more of the most annoying damn questions and statements that people use all the time:

1. Where's the last place you had it? (Usually a follow up to a hunt for keys or other items that you frantically tear the house apart looking for.)
   
   Proper answer to this is, "Let me think. I do remember them being shoved up your ass the last time I had them, so do me a favor, cram your head up there for me and take a peek!
2.  This is gross….taste this!
   
   I'm sure that someone thinks that they are doing you a favor by offering you the opportunity to share in the disgust, but the proper thing to do is to take your hand and slap the shit out of the one offering it. If that doesn't work, make them eat the entire offending object. This also goes for that lovely, "This stinks, smell this!"
3. Guess who I ran into?
   
   Unless it's my foot, I don't really give a damn who you ran into. The possibilities are endless when it comes to figuring out who on this tiny planet you could have seen. If you want to tell me who you saw, FUCKING TELL ME!! I'm not guessing!
4. Who does the baby look like?
   This question usually comes up immediately after birth. If you have never had the pleasure of looking at a newborn baby, let me help you out. They look like an alien. They are not going to pop out looking like a carbon copy of any human because they just fucking got here! If you want to prove paternity, get a blood test, stop pretending that E.T. looks like his grandfather twice removed!
5. What do you want to eat?
   This is an interesting question. What the person is actually saying is, "What do I want to eat?" The next time this happens, inform them that you are in the mood for monkey scrotums, cooked to perfection and dipped in ketchup.
6. What do you do for a living?
   Punch the person in the face and tell them that you rid the earth of morons who have nothing to talk about so they ask stupid questions.

I'm sure I could go on and on about stupid things people say, but I'd rather hear from you about the stupid things you hate being asked. Let me know what gets your hand itching to deliver a bit of education to the smiling jackasses that utter these jewels every day!