Tuesday, September 24, 2013

I Must Have Been a Kid with a Magnifying Glass in a Past Life

Dear Ants,

What the fuck? I'm serious. What. The. Fuck. Were. You. Guys. Thinking. I'm so beyond done with all of you that I'm seriously thinking about investing in a goddamn flamethrower for the next time I run into any of you. I know other people might think that a flamethrower is a bit of an overkill for ants and should only be used on nopes like giant fucking spiders or "holy-shit-that's-a-huge-fucking-tree-roach-and-it-just-flew-at-my-face" roaches. And normally they would be right. But after last week, I am so goddamn done with you guys.

"What did you do? WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

Listen up, you sassy motherfucker, I'll tell you what you did. You thought it would be really fucking funny to get a bunch of your friends together and crawl into my hamper. My CLOTHES hamper. Not my food hamper. And most certainly not my ANT hamper. I don't even think an ant hamper is a thing, but if it was, I would set it on fire. Twice. Fuck you guys. I had thrown a clean pair of shorts and shirt in there because I was lazy and didn't feel like putting them away. I was going to wear them shortly anyway. Excuse the shit out of me. Imagine my fucking surprise when after a couple of minutes of wearing it, you decided to bite my armpit. MY. ARMPIT. What the fuck is wrong with you?! Who does that? That was rhetorical, you little cockgobbler. Obviously you do. I know- I was there. And I'm sure you guys were laughing it up the whole time because as of then, I hadn't figured out that you guys were in my hamper. I had an issue with your brethren previously trying to claim our bathroom for their own which because they didn't have a flag didn't work out for them. I thought maybe I had accidentally left enough survivors that they were able to regroup and try again, and maybe that's how I ended up with you bastards in my clothes. I checked for more of you douchecanoes, but didn't see anything. I thought that was weird, but chalked it up to being an isolated incident. I came home from work the next day just to check to see if you guys were confused about whether or not it was cool to take up residence in our bathroom. Nothing. Okay. Cool.

"Waaaait a minute...check the hamper," said my brain.
"Whhaaaaa? No way...there's no way that's where they're coming from."
"Just do it," my brain insisted. So I did.


Really? There you guys were- running about my clothes hamper as if it were your personal fucking playground full of delicious treats. Well, guess who was fucking wrong? That's right- another rhetorical question. You know what's in a clothes hamper? I'll give you three guesses and the first two don't count. That's right! FUCKING CLOTHES! Not food. There was no food in my hamper. Trust me, if there was food to be had, I would have Hoovered it up way before you bastards ever got to it. There was no candy. There were no Nacho Cheese Doritos. Just clothes. You guys don't eat clothes. Nor are you big enough to wear my clothes. So stay the fuck out of my hamper. What did being in my hamper get you? For some of you, your meaningless little life was snuffed out by my foot. For others, I drowned you and then burned you in the washer and dryer. For those that escaped the previous two fates, resistance was futile. All that surviving got you was a healthy dose of poison. I sprayed the shit out of you guys and enjoyed every second of it. I will do it again if I have to.

So in summary:

This will be us the next time I find you in my hamper or anywhere else you don't goddamn belong.


I will end you,



Monday, May 6, 2013

How to Not Be an Annoying Human Being: Friend Edition

This post is going to be less humorous and more rant-y than normal. Now, I know what you’re thinking; you’re thinking, “But you’re always rant-y!” to which I say, “Shut up. You’re wrong, and I hate you.” But that wouldn’t be true. To be honest, you’re not wrong, and I don’t hate you. I love you. Please don’t go. I didn’t mean it.

Anyway, like I was saying, this post is going to be pretty rant-y. I’ve been dealing with some pretty shitty behavior on the friend front lately, and it’s left me feeling, how do you say….stabby? I’ve compiled a list of annoying (also can be called twat-waffle-y) behavior that I have personally encountered from these “friends”. If you do these things, stop. If you don’t, you will die alone, and we’re all going to laugh at you. If you have experienced these things from your own personal douche-monger of a friend, then know that you’re not alone in this fight to not fly off of the deep end and end up in prison.

Don’t talk shit about your friends behind their backs.
  • Seriously. Just don’t. I know they might have pissed you off because they decided to skip out on the alcohol poisoning for the night, but still don’t do it. I know you might not like their significant other, and you want to start spewing all kinds of hate from your pie-hole like Linda Blair did with split-pea soup. Still don’t do it. Here’s a good rule of thumb: If finding out someone was talking shit about you would send you flying full throttle into Hulk Smash mode, then pipe the fuck down. Especially if that someone else is your friend. Seriously? Why are you even friends with this person? All you seem to be capable of is talking as much shit as is humanly possible. Do you even like your friend? Or do you keep them around in order to feel better about your own life? You do realize this isn't high school, right?
Don’t get pissed when a friend finds out you were talking shit about them and then starts bitching about you.
  • There really isn’t much more to this one. It’s pretty self-explanatory, and it also leads me to my third point.
Don’t be a hypocrite.
  • To me, this is possibly one of the most infuriating ones on the list. And that’s saying something because everything on this list all but sends me into a blind rage when I think about it too much. Anyway, like I was saying, don’t be a hypocrite. How are you going to get pissed at someone for doing exactly what you did not that long ago? It’s not like you can say, “Oh, I was a younger person then. I didn’t know what I was doing. I’ve changed a lot since then.” Bitch, you’ve been talking shit for the past year. Consistently. Don’t lie to me. Don’t insult my intelligence. Sure, some people could say that the friend could have confronted the shitty friend and demanded to know why they were talking shit. And they would be right; that would be the adult thing to do. BUT here’s the plot twist. The shitty friend will lie to you. And tell you that they never said that. That it was someone else just trying to stir up shit and cause drama. They would never talk shit about you. You’re besties and are so NOT about drama. Which, again, leads me to my next point.
Stop being such a fucking drama queen.
  • No one cares. I’m serious. No one. All of your Facebook posts are just cries for attention. And you might be confused. You might think that by “drama queen” I mean that you’re negative or always bitching about things. You do that too, but when I say you’re a drama queen, I mean you look like you can’t stop posting on Facebook for fear that everyone might have forgotten about you in the 2 minutes since you last posted.  Even the posts “I love my life!” or “Everything’s great!  #YOLO” reek of desperation and neediness. Oh, and stop talking about how tired you are or how you have SO much to do. You only do that so that people will tell you how great you are and how hard you work. Seriously. Shut the fuck up. The ones who know you the best see all of this for what it is. And we don’t care.
You are not my only friend, and even if you were, sometimes I don’t want to do anything.
  • I know you make jokes about how I don’t have any other friends. Or I thought they were jokes. Now I’m not so sure. I really think you think that you’re my only friend. Guess what, asshat? You’re not. So please, please do us both a solid and stop giving me shit every time we talk or see each other about how you never see me anymore because I’m too busy hanging out with my other friends. Which is it? I can’t both have friends and not have friends. I’m not some socially retarded version of Schrödinger’s cat. In this situation you can’t have it both ways. I’m not both socially dead and alive. I’m not being a dick…well, not on purpose…okay, maybe a little bit. Really I’m just trying to figure out what the fuck you’re talking about. I’m going to lay this out as simply as I can, I am an adult, and as such, I am busy a lot of the time with work or hanging out other friends (you included). And when I’m not busy, sometimes I just want to curl up on the couch, stuff my face, and watch a Parks & Recreation marathon on Netflix. I know that to you this sounds about as fun as having bamboo shoved under your freshly manicure nails. I get that. I’m not shoving it down your fucking throat. You asked me what I’m doing; I told you. End of fucking story. You like to go out to party and dance. That’s fine. That’s not really my cup of tea. I’m sorry. I know….I’m crazy. I mean, how can anyone not love the shit out of being dry humped, spilled on, and groped by some random sweaty stranger? Don’t get me wrong; I’m not judging. I would have to care to judge. And I promise you, I don’t. Therefore since I don’t care, I’m not judging. It may seem as if I’m being redundant, but I want to make sure you fully understand.  A=B=C=A. Got it? Awesome. So to sum this point up, stop treating me like I kicked your puppy just because I don’t want to hang out with you. Every. Fucking. Weekend.  Speaking of judging….
Stop being so goddamn judge-y and I will start getting stabby. I mean, Or. Stop being so goddamn judge-y OR I will start getting stabby.
  •  Who the fuck died and made you the Almighty authority on every-fucking- thing? I hate to be the one who has to break this to you, but you, m’dear, are not fucking perfect. Over the course of our friendship, I could have pointed out so many things you did wrong and so many ways that you royally fucked up, but I didn’t. You know why? Because I was your friend. I accepted you for your faults and all. I knew I wasn’t perfect, and I’m still far from it, so who was I to judge? What’s that quote? Oh, right…“He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her”.  Here’s another good one: “For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again”. Basically, don’t be a judge-y asshole, ya dick. Especially to the people you call friends. Don’t go behind my back and talk about how you won’t deal with me drunk, especially after I’ve picked you up from the bar because you were too fucking wasted to drive. And after I’ve sat up all night after you cried because you thought you were going to die from alcohol poisoning and made sure you didn’t choke on your own vomit. And after I’ve held your hair back and tried to help you when you were, yet again, fucking wasted. And please for the love of God, stop talking about how all I do is go party when I go out of town. I’m saying this for your benefit because, honestly honey, you’re embarrassing yourself, and it’s getting painful to watch.
I hope this post finds you well. Also give me my shit back.
  • If I let you borrow something very expensive and something I plan to use again (which is why I lent it to you and didn’t just give it to you), I expect it back at some point. I even told you when I lent it to you that I might on occasion need to borrow it back to do what I needed to do. This worked for a while, and I understood that it might be a minute before I got it back for good. I was okay with that. No problem. I never once badgered you. I always asked to use it at your convenience. I think that had been working out well for us, don’t you think? I do, however, have a problem with you not responding when I ask to borrow it again. I wasn’t asking for it back; I was asking to borrow it. I also have a problem when you don’t respond to any messages I’ve sent you just trying to get into contact with you. Before I didn’t have a problem with you borrowing my stuff, but when all I hear from your end is goddamn radio silence, I, crazily enough, develop a slight fucking problem with that. Who knew, right? Did you forget YOU were borrowing MY stuff, you dickmonger? It’s been over a year since I let you borrow it. If you managed to break everything that I let you borrow or it was stolen or you lost it, you could have told me. Or is it something else? Are you mad at me? Oh wait, that’s right; at this point I don’t give a good goddamn if you’re mad at me. You, my sweet little angel face, can eat a dick. Right after you give me my stuff back. 
Don’t treat your friends like they’re your servants.
  • I’m not saying don’t ask your friends for help. I’m saying don’t tell your friends to do things for you because you’re either a) too lazy…sorry, tired or b) getting ready to go out. And I’m not talking about stuff like grabbing your phone from the kitchen or even letting your dog out in the backyard to go to the bathroom. I’m talking about the stuff that people have to go out of their way to do. It’s your fucking responsibility; you do it.
Don’t make jokes about a friend getting pregnant.
  • This point isn’t about making fat jokes. No, this point is about how shitty it is to laugh and make jokes about your friend getting pregnant. How is that funny? Your friend can barely afford/is able to take care of herself. Why in the hell would you think it’s okay to wish a baby on her right now. She’s not married. I know, I know….you don’t have to be married to have a kid. I’m not judging people who do. That’s fine if you have a kid and aren’t married as long as you’re able to take care of them. I am not. I want to have children, but right now isn’t the best time. It’s not funny, and you consistently putting it out into the universe is kind of freaking me out. So let’s not, shall we?
Don’t categorize your friends.
  • Again to explain this point before I go any further lest I offend more people than I already have, this isn’t about calling some friends your “work friends” or your “school friends” or your “kicking-children-and-sacrificing-small-animals-at-midnight friends” (to each their own. Again, I’m not judging).  This is about categorizing the friends within your group. You don’t see them as much, so they become your “only-when-they-need-something friends” or your “only-when-YOU-need-something friends” or your "I/They-have-nothing-better-going-on friends".  I honestly didn’t even realize this was a thing. For me, my friends are my friends. I don’t need to label them because as far as I’m concerned if you need to label your friends, they’re probably not your friends. Do you realize how insulted your friend is going to be when they find out that you call them your “I-only-keep-them-around-to-feel-better-about-myself friend”? You’ve just gone from having a “friend” to whom you could feel superior (just to clarify- not a friend) to having one less friend. Slow fucking clap, you douchemonger. Well done! You are on the correct and extremely efficient path to being forever alone. I hope that’s what you wanted. It seems to me like it is due to the way you talk about and treat people. The sad, but also funny part of it is that when you end up with no one around you, you’re going to blame everyone else. You’ll never stop to think that maybe you were the common factor.

To sum this whole list up.

Apologies for how long and rant-y this post was. Thank you for indulging me while I got all of that out of my system. Lord knows prison jumpsuits don’t look good on anyone, much less if you’re 5’2”. What about you guys? What’s some shitty friend behavior you’ve experienced?

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

How to Not Be an Annoying Human Being: Office Edition

The following is a list that I've compiled that I hope is helpful for some of the boundary-retarded individuals out there in the workforce. If you are a victim of one of these infuriating individuals, read on. I hope that it might make you feel better to know you're not the only one who has to put up with this nonsense.

  • Stop trying to do other people’s jobs. Seriously. They didn’t ask you the question. They asked me. Mind your own fucking business. I know you think you’re being helpful, but you’re not. You’re being annoying. If I don’t know the answer, and I then turn to you and say, “Hey there, my good sir (or lady), with your extensive wealth of knowledge, do you perchance know the answer to this thus far unanswerable question?” then, and only then, may you interrupt me to answer the question that they asked me. Otherwise, sit the fuck down. No one asked you.
  • Stop standing in the office behind me, braying like a goddamn donkey. I cannot emphasize this one enough. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.

  • If you see that I’m on the phone, go away. I’m not going to get off the phone in the next 5-10 seconds. I saw you. I know that you wanted to speak with me. Got it. I don’t need you standing there, with your watery, bloodshot eyes boring holes into the side of my head while I try to focus on what the person on the phone is saying, you mouth-breather. So wipe that idiotic expectant grin off of your face and go sit down; I’ll be with you in a minute. Actually, you know what? Don’t. The longer you stand there, the longer I’m going to stay on the phone. I don’t care that the other person hung up 5 minutes ago; I’m going to sit here and pretend to have a conversation until you decide to knuckle-drag yourself back to your desk.
  • If you ask me to help you with something do not- I repeat- DO NOT ask me every 5-10 minutes how it’s looking and am I done yet. If you do this, your task will get bumped to the bottom of the list. Weird how that happens.
  • Do NOT ask me to do the shit that you are too lazy to do or just don’t want to do. And don’t fucking act like it’s my job to do your busy work for you. I have a pile of my own stuff that I haven’t gotten to yet because I’m….busy. Now if you’ll excuse me (because I’m not your fucking secretary, Mr. Draper), I’ve got to get back to Farmville. These crops aren’t going to harvest themselves. I trust that you can find the break room and pour your own coffee like a big boy, yes?
  • Stop bitching about the software we use. You know what bitching about it does? You got it! Abso-fucking-lutely nothing. So stop it. I don’t want to smack you in the mouth, but….actually who am I kidding? Yes I do. Let’s amend that, shall we? For the sake of keeping my job, I don’t want to smack you in the mouth, so please do me a solid, and shut the fuck up. I get it….The system sucks; it’s not efficient; it’s confusing; you broke it…again. Did I address all the issues? Yes? Mind if I say a few things? Good. No, it doesn’t; yes, it is, no, it’s not; no, you didn’t. You think all of this because you don’t know what you’re doing. Because you don’t fucking god-damn pay attention when I’m teaching you how to use the software. Don’t worry; we’ll revisit this one. 

  • Stop acting like it’s the end of the world if the system gives you an error. Stop hyperventilating. Or don’t. Maybe you’ll pass out. Stop threatening to chunk your mouse or phone across the room, you psycho. 9 times out of 10 the page just needs to be refreshed, so hit F5 and pipe the fuck down, Chicken Little.
  • Stop going behind coworkers’ backs to tattle on them to their bosses. This is not elementary school, so really this rule should be a given. You are a grown-ass person, and you’re worried about what another grown-ass person is doing, and for what? Just so you can look like the fucking model employee? Well, me tell you something, Miss Gabby Girl Scout, you don’t look like the model employee. You look like an immature asshole because their boss doesn’t care about what you just told them. What you tattled on that person for was petty and stupid, and now that coworker’s boss thinks you’re a sniveling asshole. And guess what? Their boss told them, so now your coworker thinks that too. Well done.
  • Now we’re going to revisit number 6. When you ask me how to do something, pay attention. I get it; when you don’t do something consistently, you forget exactly how to do it. That’s okay. I don’t mind helping in those situations. There are a lot of steps, some of which re confusing when you’re unfamiliar with the process. It’s when you blatantly don’t pay attention when I’m teaching you how to do something because, in your words, I’ll be there to do it for you every time you do this. Is that so? I don’t fucking think so, you douchecanoe. I will help you, yes, but gone are the days that I hold your hand and walk you through your incompetency. And when you ask me how much I think you’ll remember of what I’m teaching you, and I say, “Nothing”, I’m not joking. I’m actually very annoyed, so don’t respond with “Exactly”. You do remember that YOU asked ME to help you and teach you how to do this, don’t you? *I* know how to do this. You do not. So pipe the fuck down and pay attention.
  • Finally, just because I’m not smiling, doesn’t mean I’m not happy. So stop telling me to smile more, to not look so pissed, to keep my chin up, and that things will get better.  I wasn’t pissed. I was actually in a great mood; I was just concentrating on my work. As the old adage goes: that’s just how my face looks.
I also bear a striking resemblance to Nick Offerman apparently. I'm okay with that.