Our very "special" friends

It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye. Pushing and shoving, rolling around on the floor like caged baboons, shrieking like banshees, making oddball noises, competing for who made the coolest and loudest sound...ah, the thrills of childhood. Except, what if those behaviors were uncontrollable?  What if that wasn't the joyful noise of childhood, but the plaintive cry of the differently abled? Funny, right? Fuck no, it isn't. Could you imagine for one moment being completely unable to stop sound from erupting from your lips? What about having hands that won't move the way you want them to in order to pick up a crayon? How about if you wanted to make a new friend but you couldn't because you are too hard to understand? Sucks moldy balls...yet there are children and adults who live this reality everyday. Still feel like snickering?

Those you with your own children will understand how it feels when someone makes a snide comment about them or makes fun of them. You know the stinging pain of watching them on the playground, head down, having no one to with whom to play. Having held your child as they cry because they were teased at school for having the wrong jeans or notebook, you understand what I am taking about. Imagine feeling that way everyday. Parents of children with special needs know this agony and have to live with it while wearing a huge smile. Why? Because their children need it. All kids look to their parents for cues about how to behave, how to react. If that child saw their mom crying, they'd not be able to stop and hold their head up high ever again. They'd believe that there was a genuine reason to cry, a reason to be ashamed of who they are.

These parents wear themselves out going the extra mile to build self-confidence in their children. Self-confidence that can be stripped away by just a few cruel children...or worse, their parents. That's right, I said their parents. Guilty as fucking sin, I've heard parents laughing, seen them pointing at children who were different or not perfect in their eyes. Those parents couldn't handle a child like that, they aren't strong enough and certainly not worthy of that child. As though their little, spoiled, disrespectful, entitled-feeling brat is somehow better than that poor child they mock. How so? I challenge you to give me valid proof. What makes someone who will eventually become a rotten, mean-spirited, selfish adult better than someone who may remain a child mentally, but be a beautiful human being with nothing but love and respect for everyone they meet? Exactly nothing, douche bag.

Working with children, every once in a while I am fortunate enough to come across one of these children of whom I speak. I say fortunate and I truly mean it. They are unlike all the others in the classroom, like none of my "favorites" yet I feel drawn to them, and they to me. My co-workers tease me, calling me a magnet for these kids. Maybe I am. Maybe I feel safe. I'll never really know the reason. I do know that I have a special place in my heart for these little guys, in all their out of control, hard to understand, yet wonderful and energetic glory. Many of you may not understand the appeal, the draw. That's ok, but don't you dare, for one moment, stand there and ridicule these sweet little souls. They may be draining as fuck, but I'll still muster up enough oomph to kick your dumb ass. You don't deserve the unconditional love and acceptance they have to offer. Your loss is my gain, prickless piece of dog shit.

Those of you with children who are mainstream, who are totally "normal" by educational standards, who need nothing but time and love from you, thank your lucky stars every single day. Most of you wouldn't know what to do with anything else. Some of you may have given him or her up for adoption, unable to face your supposed "failure" as a parent. A few, those who are soulless and heartless, would have chosen to end that child's life early, in utero, claiming that you are saving them from a life of heartache, and then try again for a NORMAL baby. There's nothing normal about exterminating someone because they aren't who you wanted them to be, not what you expected. It's sickening. You sicken me. Imagine if your mother could have had amniocentesis before you were born and was able to determine that you would grow up to be a total fucking bitch while you were still a fetus? She could have had your ass sucked out of her and tried for a nicer daughter. Oh, did that sound cruel and inappropriate? Too goddamn bad...you don't edit yourself or your opinions either, or I wouldn't know about them. Are you friggin kidding me right now???

You might be insane

Einstein defined insanity as doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Based on that, I can say with all confidence that my cat is insane. Even without that definition, I may have said the same about her. What baffles the shit out of me is how many of you would also fit that definition. The question I have for you is WHY? Why do you insist on repeating the same mistakes? Do you really believe that repetition will sway things in your direction? If you trip every time you wear flip flops, why do I still see you wearing them? Do you like face-planting on a regular basis? My guess is that you do or you'd change your goddamn shoes. Of course, if I say something to you about it, I'm the crazy one. I may be crazy, but I don't wear shoes that make me fall.

People who can't seem to get out of debt yet won't change their spending habits make me laugh. Don't cry to me that you don't have enough money to go out when I see you buying yet another tech item or fancy pair of pants. Do I look as fucktarded as your behavior? With the state of the current economy, many of us are in the same boat. We aren't making quite as much as we used to and so have had to cut back in several areas of our lives. Those of us with a functioning brain know that this means cutting back on frivolous spending. I've noticed that many of you don't know what constitutes frivolity. Things that are not necessary for basic survival are considered frivolous.  I'm not saying to cut out all forms of recreation, you'd really go nuts, and we have enough loons out there without you adding yourself to the list. But how about switching from shopping at Nordstrom's to enjoying the lower prices at Old Navy? Perhaps you can brew your own coffee instead of making the folks at Starbucks richer at your expense? Or continue to cry about your lot in life while carrying that brand-new Louis Vuitton...dumbass.

Do tell me again how you are fighting the battle of the bulge with that venti, five pump, full-fat milk, cinnamon dolce latte in your fat little fingers. Yes, I can see how it would be difficult for you to drop some poundage. Oh yes, you do try so hard, eating those 2,400 calorie taco salads for lunch instead of a healthy sandwich. I know it sucks to be heavier than you'd like. I'm there right now. I'm not complaining because I know I am there of my own doing. You, on the other hand, think that  a pound of pasta for dinner is perfectly fine as long as you throw some broccoli on it. I see. So, if there's a bit of greenery, the whole dish is lo-cal. The scary thing is, you've been eating like this since I have known you. Always on a diet and waiting for Jesus to come and remove the pounds through the power of prayer, I suppose? Haven't you noticed that if you keep eating the same shit, your size doesn't decrease? Maybe you don't know the difference between healthy and hype. Pounding down three or four 100 calorie packs of wafer thin cookies is not helping your waistline. You won't stop, though, will you? Waiting for empty calories to finally mean zero calories, you'll keep making those dietary mistakes, and moaning about your fat ass. I'll just rock mine for a little while longer, while you cry in your beer.

Aw, do your kids show you no respect? Gee whiz! Are you still negotiating with them regarding things about which they have no choice?  Might you still be asking instead of telling when you are giving a directive? Do you end every fucking request with the mind-numbing "ok?" like they have a choice to tell you no, it's most certainly not ok with me? I know, I know!  You've forgotten who the parent is in that relationship! It's the only logical reason I can come up with to justify the pansy-ass way you deal with your out-of-control children. Why else would you let them run rough shod all over your fucking ass rather than taking them in hand and letting them know who is the boss in your house? Perhaps it's fear that they won't like you anymore. Psst, come closer, I have secret to tell you. Your job isn't to make them like you, it's to effectively raise your child to become a functioning and respectful member of society. Fucking moron!  You didn't give birth to your bestie, you pushed out your child, the person who depends on you to make sure they aren't a bratty, entitled fucktard.

People only treat you the way you allow them to, and when you don't speak up, the abuse continues. When you whine and bitch about the fact that your significant other doesn't respect you, and you still don't demand it, my level of sympathy drops to a negative number. If he leaves the toilet seat up and you constantly put it down, he is not going to take the hint that you want HIM to do it. He is going to think it's YOUR job. When she blasts the TV, giving you yet another migraine, and you retreat to the bedroom to escape the noise, she doesn't know that the onus is on her to lower the fucking volume. Open your yap and tell her to lower the goddamn volume because you don't want another headache! When you continue to repeat the same passive-aggressive patterns, you are only hurting yourself. Their behavior isn't going to change and you will still be pissed off. Say something already! Jesus H. Christ, are you insane?

I'm not a psychiatrist, but I play one on the internet. Actually, I don't claim to be anything but smarter than you. I've laid the groundwork for your self-improvement. It's on you to pick up where I've left off and fix yourself. Stop banging your head against the wall expecting the next time to not hurt. Common sense can't be learned, it must be practiced. Start practicing, ass clown! Wouldn't you rather have NO reasons to complain? I'd much prefer being happy than insane. Are you friggin kidding me right now???

Your online gushing causes my projectile vomiting

With the passing of Valentine's Day, I feel it necessary to aid and assist you yet again with your social media bad habits. Now I know you love the one you're with at the moment, it is abundantly clear to all of us. Lucky are those who find their true soul mate and fall in love. Some of you may never do that, some may fall in and out of love over and over throughout their lifetime. However, there are a select group of you who haven't the foggiest fucking clue what love is and are making complete and total asses of yourselves shouting from the rooftops about your deep and abiding love story. I did make my Facebook status encapsulate this opinion the day after V-day and seemed to have offended some folks who are in very short-lived, unmarried relationships. Without criticizing the relationships of those offended parties, just yet, I would like to point out that even if you were married for a year or so, you would still be in the honeymoon phase and have no clue what the fuck real love is even if it junk punched the living shit out of you.

While those in brief, whirlwind relationships took offense at my post, those in long-lasting, loving ones actually liked it and handed out some kudos to me for saying what everyone else was thinking. And isn't that why you love me? Sometimes I think you take offense when I hit a nerve. Most times, I know I am right. The truth hurts and I dole it out with a big assed serving spoon. I am only trying to help you, open your eyes to what's real and what you imagine in that pea-sized brain of yours. Ignorance isn't always bliss and lying to yourself will eventually bite you in the ass. Lying to us only serves to raise our hackles and alert us to the fact that you think we are stupid enough to believe your long line of shit. Allow me to squash that ridiculous nonsense right here, right now. Not only do we not believe you, but we are far more intelligent and educated than you believe yourself and we are laughing at you. Heartily and with great abandon.

As I read yet another sappy, gushing post, I have to wonder who it is you are trying to convince? Since we've already established that the rest of us aren't buying what you're selling, I can only surmise that you are doing this crap to convince yourself that you do, indeed, have something real and worth celebrating.  If you have to convince yourself about anything, a decision, a haircut, a relationship...you've made the wrong choice. Second guessing, buyer's remorse, whatever term you'd like to assign to what it is you are feeling, shouldn't happen if you are with the right person and are truly in love. There should not be a single moment of doubt when you are with your true love. Hence the excessive amount of convincing taking place all over my fucking feed wouldn't be there if you had found Mr./Ms. Right. You've found Mr./Ms. Right Now. If I've disappointed you, oh well. It's not my job to make you happy...that's on you, jackass.

Having an insane need to post about how much you love your partner, how wonderful they are, how good-looking you find them, how they treat you like royalty, and that you are the luckiest son of a bitch in the world should embarrass the shit out of you. I know I feel embarrassed FOR you when I read it. Thinking, "Aw, poor dumb shit. They really believe this? Nah, that's ridiculous. Oh wait, there's another! Yeah, they really are fucktarded. Poor sap sucker" every time I read one of your overly lovey dovey posts and wondering if I can shank you through the computer to stop the insanity is not fun for me. And if I'm not having fun, I can assure you that all the others being subjected to your profusion of shit aren't either. Abundantly clear that you have no idea of what you speak, we read your crap with a little pity, a little bewilderment, and a buttload of disgust.

Those of us in real relationships will tell you that being in love and loving someone are two totally different things and that actual love comes much later than the racing heartbeat, butterflies in the stomach feeling of being in love. You can fall in love at first sight. Loving that person, really loving them selflessly comes much later on in the journey. Sharing experiences both good and bad, plodding through the mundane everyday tasks together, and allowing that person to be themselves without either trying to change them or trying to become them are the hallmarks of what loving someone is about. Unless you've been through at least one medical emergency; one real scare; a death or two; a move or two, or three; meddling in-laws; fighting like cats and dogs; not speaking...and coming out on the other end stronger, you are still in love with the idea of love. This can sound sanctimonious and bitchy, and so be it. Facts are facts.

People who have been a really long relationship can tell you, love is the little things peppered by the huge motherfuckers. Remembering to put the toilet lid down, having breakfast ready so the slow poke of the two can putter along in the morning and still get to work on time, giving a back cracking bear hug every morning so I can actually move the rest of the day, scratching an itchy back multiple times per night even when it ruins my nail polish, carrying an aspirin just in case, and little things like that show love much more effectively and appropriately than a Facebook post. Holding your wife as she screams and cries over the loss of her mom, holding his hand in the ER as a lifesaving yet excruciatingly painful procedure is happening, letting her rant and rave when she feels overwhelmed even if it means some of the barbs are being slung at you, giving him space to process a really shitty day at work and knowing when he is ready to talk...are some of the big mofos, the hurdles you will cross and arrive safely on the other side with scars making the relationship that much stronger. But you haven't been there, you just don't know. You think you do, and that's sad and pathetic.

Think before you post. Aren't some things better said in private? Telling me you love your mate doesn't pack quite the punch that telling her directly to her face while gazing into her eyes has, and frankly, I don't give a rat's ass if you love her or simply want to bang her. Compliments mean a whole lot more when said to the person you are admiring. Once again, telling me you think your significant other is hot does nothing for their ego. Unless you are just showing off...in which case, allow me to apprise you of a very important fact, you are the only one who gets the vapors looking at them. If someone else thought so, you'd have competition, and your relationship couldn't handle that anyway.

To recap, if you are only shouting your love from the mountaintop one day a year, it can't be as great as you proclaim. When you gush like a lovesick puppy all over social media land, you look like a fucktarded teenager pissing on their territory or worse, like a pathetic middle aged buffoon trying to convince themselves that regular sex with the same person constitutes lasting love. None of us gives a fetid shit how you feel, especially when the meaning of the word love isn't at all understood by you, yet you attempt to educate the rest of us by waxing poetic about your perfect relationship. If after ten or twenty-five years, you still feel like announcing how great your mate is, have at it!  I'll personally high five you.  But should you do it when the paint is still fresh on the union, I'll be forced to high five your face.  Are you friggin kidding me right now???

Are you a lady?

Some females have lost sight of what it means to be a lady. I say female because I question their womanhood, as well. Gone are the days of overt femininity, which isn't offensive in itself.  Flowing skirts have their place in the heat of the summer, but I do prefer a well-fitting pair of jeans the rest of the time. Feminine wiles are not the thing in question today. Some women eschew makeup and hair product, and while I don't necessarily find it attractive, appropriate, or acceptable in the workplace, it's a choice and we have freedom of choice. Making a little effort with regard to your presentation is always appreciated by the rest of us. That being said, whether you apply your makeup with a paint roller or only use ChapStick, you can still be a lady either way. Being a lady isn't all about how you look...nowadays, though, it seems to be the focal point.

Class is something that a woman must have in order to be a lady, without it, you are cheap trash. People have forgotten what class means and have become so fucking embarrassing to watch in action. Behavior trumps all the bullshit verbiage you can spew, hence, being nice to my face, on my feed, or wherever means absolutely nothing when you ignore my birthday, for example. The ability to move on after a disagreement is one trait that a real lady possesses, in spades. Holding onto a grudge, being a bitch, and treating someone like shit because they don't share your opinion is most definitely NOT ladylike. Harsh, brutal, and plain old fucking rude, perhaps, but not behavior befitting a lady.

Drinking a fancy drink at a pricey bar at a snazzy hotel does not make you classy. Maybe you have good taste in watering holes. Or maybe it's how your date impresses you while getting you shitfaced so you'll fellate him later. I'll never know the real answer, but you do. Somehow you believe that if you are impressing us, we will think better of you as a person. Guess what? Things, money, excess...are all bullshit. I've been at both ends of the spectrum, broke as dirt and living the high life, and all areas in between. What I can tell you is this, money does not make you better than someone else, and lack of it doesn't make you worse. Cash doesn't buy class. Excess of any good thing usually turns people into douche canoes. Feeling all high and mighty, throwing Benjamins around the room like confetti, acting like Queen Shitheel, only brings out your inner twat for all of us to see...and hate.

Speaking of fancy watering holes, when you do enjoy your expensive drink, try not to make a complete and utter ass of yourself while doing so. What do I mean by this? Funny you should ask. Flouncing around like a dipshit on crack, shaking your ass for all and sundry, posing for photos that you should have taken 20 years ago when gravity hadn't met your titties, only serves to prove my point. Class is crucial to being considered a lady. Behaving like a dime-store hooker ain't classy. Yet, you do it, over and over, sharing the photos with everyone in social media land. Remember social media land?  There are rules, and sharing pics of you acting like the frat house hoe, breaks several of them. Please refer back to them and print them out ASAP, you are humiliating yourself.  While you provide hours of entertainment, enabling us to watch you self-destruct publicly, may I suggest that you curtail any further horrific displays of ass clownishness?

One more thought comes to mind regarding ladylike behavior. People in glass houses should abstain from throwing stones. Why am I saying this? Because I've noticed that many who consider themselves to be ladies are standing in judgement of other females as though they have any right to do so. How they dress, how they sit, and the list goes on. What these supposed ladies don't realize, is that their behavior is in glaring opposition to the ladylike view they have of themselves. Acting trashy, being bitchy, criticizing innocent girls...let me segue here...when you judge a young lady, you are capping on someone's daughter, and I take great offense at that. Not only am I someone's daughter, but I have a daughter who does appear to be older than she is, and would be subject to the harsh judgement of some of you cunts who think you are so above everyone else. My daughter is more than capable of cutting bitches like you down to size, but she shouldn't be forced to do so.

Getting back to my point, and I do have one, your ill-mannered, nasty, judgmental, bitchassness is coming across as the most unladylike crap I have ever witnessed. Furthermore, women who choose to bed hop, gold dig, and sleep with married men will never be considered a lady, even when they use tons of hair product, makeup, perfume, nail polish, and sit up straight with their legs crossed at the ankles and tucked under the chair, Catholic school style. Don't ever presume to think you are a lady. Are you friggin kidding me right now???

New Facebook Rules: Part 2

With so many buffoons out there in social media land, it becomes increasingly more necessary to begin enforcing rules to ensure the sanity of the rest of us. Luckily, you all have me to assist in this capacity. I have no problem laying it out in black and white, dumbed down as far as I can possibly take it without drawing pictures, and passing along my wisdom to you.  Without further ado, here are the rest of the rules as I see fit to share and hope you help me enforce.

5. We all have opinions and we are entitled to them. We are also allowed to express them, according to the constitution, without inciting a riot. Posting that Jack in the Box french fries suck moose balls is an opinion.  Not one likely to incite a riot, but perhaps a spirited debate. Usually people don't get too offended by opposing food preferences. Telling us that voting in an election is challenging because you don't feel either candidate is worthy of your vote is actually fine because, face it, most folks would agree with you and you aren't taking a staunch stance on either side.  But when you decide to express yourself loudly and proudly all over fucking social media land about political issues that you know damn well are touchy, like gun laws and abortions, and you are asking for all the virtual junk punches you get. Since we've already gone over this in grotesque detail, delineating each and every topic that is verboten outside of the safety of your home, I shouldn't have to include this rule.  Yet, you continue to break it, so I am forced to repeat myself, which I HATE.  Don't make me shank your jejunum.

6. Nobody likes a braggart. That should be simple and easy to understand, but yet, I see vast amounts of vomit-inducing self-aggrandizing as well as shoving the minor achievements of children down my throat.  While I am certain you are quite proud of yourself for that twenty-five cent an hour raise, and you should be since raises are few and far between in this economy, there are some folks out there who are still seeking gainful employment and have been for some time. Rubbing your success in their noses is the eptiome of bitchassness. If your life is wonderful, God bless you. Should you be free of stress, sickness, financial hardship, petty bullshit, or things of that nature...be thankful not boastful. My mom would never brag about me when I was a child, she believed in malocchio (the evil eye), which was brought about by the jealousy of others. How better to make someone jealous than to wax poetic about the perfection of your child? I had straight A's all through school, yet nobody ever knew about it...nobody but my parents. For this reason, I rarely post any of my child's achievements.  You don't give a shit, and I am fully aware of that. Those who do, will know. The rest won't.  Don't over-share.

7. You got a new haircut, color, eyebrow wax, lip color...fanfuckingtastic! Wear them all in good health. Don't flood my feed with a photo montage of it!  Trust me when I tell you, none of us care. Plus, when you don't post pics, we won't have to feel obligated to comment on them. We were all told that if we don't have anything nice to say, not to say anything at all. But in social media land, it becomes obligatory to "like" or express some sort of positive comment on a friend's photo, particularly when it is of themselves. Putting this kind of unnecessary pressure on a friend is cruel and unusual. The fact is, you don't want the truth. What you are looking for is validation that you've made the right choice regarding your appearance.  Your self-esteem is so low, you seek ME out to make you accept yourself. Bad choice. Most of the time, consider yourself fortunate that I still listen to the echo of my mom's voice inside my head.

8. Some conversations are meant to be private. Sorry to be the one to pee in your cornflakes, but someone has to, and my thimble-sized bladder is ready. You may love the shit out of your boyfriend or girlfriend, they may be the light of your life, the air in your lungs, the wine in your glass, the weed in your bong. Beautiful, tear-jerkingly beautiful. However, unless it is their birthday or your anniversary, posting vomit-inducing stati on your wall and theirs for God and all to see is about as mature as a hormonally-driven middle schooler with a raging, unrequited crush. As a grown ass woman, I can assure you that love is best expressed in private, face-to-face with that person. Gushing like a school-girl or -boy all over social media land is extraordinarily immature and is similar to the more animal version of this behavior...pissing on your territory. Resembling a virtual hickey, the nonsense you subject the rest of us to is not needed. No one wants your mate. If they did, he/she wouldn't be with you. Think about it, ass bag.

Equipped with this newfound information, I expect you to go forth and use social media more appropriately than you have been doing as of late. Before you hit "post" scan over the list of rules, which I do suggest you print out and keep right next to your computer, lest you be tempted to behave like a total fucktard publicly yet again. One day, you'll thank me for saving you from further humiliation. Until then, try your hardest not to flood my feed with your window-licking stupidity. Do you really think anyone cares? Are you friggin kidding me right now???

New Facebook Rules

What used to be an adult playground has turned into a nightmarish hellhole filled with braggarts, bitches, whiners, and assholes. That's right, I am talking about Facebook. Perhaps I've gotten old, maybe I've gotten crabby, or, and here's the likely scenario, I have become irritated by the stupidity that surrounds me and need to say something about it. Not only do I want to voice my opinion, I want to help you to help me NOT kill you. Before you say, "Thank you," remember, I said it was to help me, it's all about me.  Due to my intolerance for assholishness, I've comprised some rules for you to follow from now on.

1. Photos are a lovely way to share what's going on in your life. Baby pics are adorable and are a great way to share your new addition with those who live far away. But please, I beg of you, leave your ultrasound out of the montage. I don't, and I know many of my friends don't want to see the inside of your wife's uterus, even when there is a fetus residing in there. Wedding photos allow those who couldn't attend your gala occasion to share in the festivities from across the miles. Limit them to under a dozen. We've all been to weddings, we know what happens. All we are interested in is the bride's dress, her flowers, and if your reception venue is snazzy. Even photos of a particularly successful homemade dinner are welcome in my world, as we all know that my love for food runs deep. But, seriously, every time you enter the kitchen, leave your iPhone in another room. Clearly the temptation to share every meal you create is too great to have your little buddy with you. Vacations are great, share a few well-chosen pics to represent the trip. If you feel it necessary to show us every stop you make along the way, put one of you into the photo. People are far more interesting.  Photos of you and your friends out on the town are great. Always nice to see someone having a good time. Posting photos of you sloshed and dressed like a fucking teenager when you are most definitely middle-aged, tacky as hell. I don't care how fit you think you are, you are old. Nobody wants to see your ass crack, your thong, your cellulite riddled thighs, or your aging titties stuffed into what even Victoria can't keep secret. Think classy, not trashy.
2. If you have a cold, a headache, a hemorrhoid, and really, truly HAVE to announce it...do it and be done with it. Those who care will express the appropriate amount of pity that you seek. The rest of us will roll our eyes, scroll down to find one of those funny "I fucking love science" pics and take another gulp of coffee. Do keep the pity parties to a minimum. Hallmark has not created invitations for them, therefore, you shouldn't be hosting them. Certainly not with such frequency. I'll let you in on a little secret, everyone has had a cold.  Most of us have had sinus infections, bronchitis, the flu, and a hemorrhoid or two. Some of us have even had migraines. Yes, migraines. We know exactly how you are feeling with all of your maladies and can empathize. Don't force us to tut tut and there there virtually each time you are "suffering" from one of them. And before your sensibilities get offended, I don't mean those of you who truly feel like shit, and rarely ever complain about it. You will receive ample amounts of empathy from me. The others...you know where you stand.
3. OH.MY.GOD did you really have a bad day? Was Murphy's Law written exclusively for you? Are you irreparably damaged by the driver who cut you off, the painter who showed up late, the egg that broke on the kitchen floor, and the cat vomit on your bedspread? Or is it possible that you can laugh about it? Well, if you can't, can you at least attempt to make ME laugh about it? Sometimes putting a humorous spin on an event can help you climb out of the wallowing pool you seem to enjoy diving into and put you into a better frame of mind. I'm not your therapist, I can't fix your misery. Only you can. Stop swimming in misery and develop a sense of humor, for Christ's sake. None of us go online to be dragged down by your shit, we actually have our very own shit.
4. Did your significant other give you a gift? Holy shit! No fucking way! Please, post a photo quickly, don't make us wait to see it. For those too dimwitted to understand, that was glaringly obvious sarcasm. A very good friend and I have always discussed this topic and the other day she sent me a Tweet from Ochocinco that summed up our shared opinion, "Women don't like roses, they only like to show them off to their co-workers." And truly, isn't that why men send them to your place of work? They look like heroes, make the other women's guys look like douchebags, and the women look pampered and fortunate to have such a hero in their bed. In reality, if a man wanted to impress you, and only you, he would walk through the door with those flowers and hand them to you himself. Following that line of thought, if you were appreciative of his gift, wouldn't you say thank you directly to him? Saying it on a social media site can only be construed as bragging, not gratitude. 

These are just a few that come to mind today. Stay tuned for another installment. You didn't think I was done with you, did you?  Are you friggin kidding me right now???

Agree to disagree, and don't be a loud wrong

Are we adults here or what? I've got a bone to pick with some of you who claim to be fully functioning, grown ass people. When did you fall off the cross? I ask this because, as of late, I've begun to notice a trend among folks who have decided that if they can't be right, they can't be your friend. Let me try to understand the logic, if I can. If we don't see eye to eye on every topic, we are simply incompatible as chums and should terminate our relationship immediately? Or, if that be the case and we aren't friends yet, we should turn tail and go on our merry way? Never the twain shall meet again? I really need to know the answer to this conundrum because I am finding myself in the thick of it almost daily. Does a person need to have everything in common with you before you consider even speaking to them? Are you that lofty and intellectual that you require total simpatico in order to have friends?

As I get older, I've begun to gain acceptance of the fact that people are just different and not everyone is going to share my opinions on various topics. And that is perfectly fine with me, as long as you accept that fact, too. My absence of an edit button should be glaringly obvious by now and most of you have remained at my side, laughed at my ridiculousness, and are still friends with me. Amazing! Face it, I put up with your shit, too. With the constantly growing list of things that piss me off, you'd think I'd be the one to abandon ship and go it alone. But I haven't, I like you too much. I thought you liked me, as well. Boy was I wrong! And we all know how often I admit to being wrong, so this is fucking huge for me, be kind.

Should we be in each other's company having a discussion about fuck knows what, and I decide to take the opposing side, don't walk away like a pussy. Stand there and disagree with me. Prove your goddamn point to the best of your ability. Let it get heated and loud, just the way I like it. Scream, swear, gesticulate wildly...be sure that I'll be doing the same and then some. It's fun to argue a point, more so when each party is participating equally. Of course, it's more than likely that I will be the one in the right, but give me a run for my money. Pull out all the stops and lay your cards on the table. Tell me why you are right and I am (oh GOD this is funny) wrong. Attempt to sway me to your way of thinking.  Try hard, dammit! Let me have my fun. Storming off like an angry toddler is lame and weak, and gives me no joy whatsoever.

Walking away is tantamount to giving up...and that implies that you figured out that you were wrong and had nothing left to say. Boo fucking hoo. Get your ass back here and try again. Even if we don't agree at the end of the fight, and we are standing there out of breath, red-faced, with high blood pressure, we will know that we had a little bit of fun at each other's expense.  What will also come out of this is the respect we now have for each other's ability to stand up for what we believe is right and the cojones to not back down from an argument. We can just agree to disagree and move on to the next thing while preserving our relationship.That is what adults do, in case you were unclear. Always here to help.

With the onslaught of ways to communicate thanks to technology, we can argue via text, on Skype, using FaceTime, in an instant message window, or on a social media site. Text arguments take on a life of their own due to the fact that you cannot see facial expressions or hear the tone of what's being said. This actually CAUSES arguments that may not have occurred in person or on the phone. Sarcasm doesn't often translate in print, nor does a playful tease. So many take offense at something innocuous sent via text because they are unaware of the spirit in which it was sent.  All the smileys in the world can't replace a wry look accompanied by a snicker to let you know that what I said was all in fun. And so, you get your panties in a wad, I have no idea why, and we are suddenly not speaking to each other. Only YOU know why, and you aren't telling.

Social media has turned many of you into laptop snipers. Hurling your passive-aggressive comments in threads that get your knickers in a snit, trying to out bitch other bitches online, and basically engaging in a wuss war. Would you actually say those things if you were face-to-face with that person? I highly doubt it.  The computer screen is your shield and you use it as protection from the real world, with its real people while you act all sanctimonious and holier-than-thou on the internet. Usually, it's the folks who have storage closets filled with skeletons who spew the most voluminous righteous indignation. Know this, I've got your number. Not only am I aware of just how fucktarded you are, but I also know that you aren't as magnanimous as you act on Facebook. Sweeter than homemade apple pie in your stati, and nasty as day old, putrid sin when you make your appearances on the stati of others. I'd say you were bipolar but that is insulting the mentally ill, and that's fucking uncool.

One more thought comes to my mind as I sit here, those of you who don't allow others to defend themselves when they are more than capable of doing so and certainly more adept at it than you. If someone I know is offended by anything I've said, they know that they can feel free to tell me. What they also know is that I will listen and then tell them that my opinion remains the same and perhaps, if they are lucky, we can have a battle of wits. It'll be great fun, and when it's over we will laugh ourselves silly and move on to bigger and funnier concepts. Do not, I must repeat since you are so slow of mind I feel you require it, do NOT step in and speak on someone else's behalf because YOU were offended.  Did you stop for a moment and ascertain that the person you are defending is actually upset? Of course not. Why would you? It's your panties that got all bunched up, so actually, you were speaking on your own behalf under the pretense of defending the innocent. Silly, silly boob.

As adults living together on this beautiful planet, we need to reach some kind of agreement about how we are going to deal with the issue of being unique individuals with differing opinions. We can snap and snipe at each other and drive away what few real friends we have with our inability to pull our heads out of our asses long enough to have intelligent discourse. OR, we can accept each other's differences, respect others' right to express those differences, and stop being a loud wrong. Opinions are not facts, they are not based in science, and cannot be proven. Basing your opinion on something you don't know makes you an ass clown. Arguing about it makes you a bitch. Doing it publicly where everyone else can see how stupid you are makes you a buffoon. Learn how to argue, have fun screaming and cursing, channel your inner Queens Italian and gesture like a mofo, and then let it go. Don't hold onto it like a security blanket, it couldn't protect you then and it won't help you now. Are you friggin kidding me right now???

Do you have the time to listen to me whine?

Why is it that some people actually think you care about their hangnails and hemorrhoids? Sounds like an Echo and the Bunnymen song, but far less entertaining and you can't dance to it. If you are chatting with a very close friend, and you decide to confide in them about your bladder infection, you can probably assume they do care and the news was met with actual concern. But should you be making small talk with your local Safeway cashier, and she asks how you are doing, do not regale her with a full account of your boil lancing at the doctor's office and attempt to show her video footage of the event. Even as I type what seems to be an obvious helpful suggestion, I am cringing because I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that you will do it. Not only will you tell the cashier, but you'll share it with the Starbucks barista, the mailman, and dude about to change your oil. Are you just cruel or completely fucktarded?

Lately, I've noticed that people are feeling more social and chatty, which is fine in small doses and keeping within some framework which limits you to light, not heavily personal topics. Waiting for the cable guy is a personal enough topic without becoming gross or offensive to anyone. Running out of milk in the middle of a recipe is perfectly fine conversational fodder for your cashier, it's relevant to the situation. Most folks of relatively average intelligence seem to be able to do this without much effort. Then why, oh why, are people I'd consider to be fairly smart blabbing their life stories to anyone and everyone they come into contact with each day? What drives someone to have verbal diarrhea? Are you wondering, too? Or are you just as guilty?

Some folks seem to believe that everyone in the world actually wants to know the details about their last spewed loogie. Color, texture, viscosity, and any other little tidbit that crosses their little minds that makes their mucous sound more interesting. I can assure you that if I only know you as an acquaintance, I have NO interest whatsoever in any of your bodily fluids. The color of your pee after taking antibiotics, the saturation of your maxi pad, or how many tissues you've filled to the absolute breaking point...none of this matters to me, and my life will go on with or without the information you so desperately want to impart.  I have no need for this amount of detail about anyone, and certainly not about what amounts to a stranger in my world.

I'd have to believe that social media created these monsters and has allowed them to fester like the boils they enjoy sharing with everyone on their friend list. Like I have suggested before, social media uses the name social for a reason. It is not a diary or a bullhorn. You are not supposed to announce every time you take a shit, eat a burger, or get flowers from your significant other. Nor is it a forum to discuss your every minor ailment in grotesque detail, repeatedly throughout the day, and continuing on all week or however long it takes to get better...until the next sore throat, stuffy nose, or hemorrhoid flare-up. Your family and perhaps the people with whom you work are the only ones who need to know your level of contagion today. And your family is probably the only group of people who may actually care about how you feel. Sad, but true, get over it.

Whining is about as unappealing as it gets. When a small child does it, you may actually believe that your ears are bleeding and you will inevitably wind up with a blaring headache should it persist for any length of time. When an adult does it in person, you want to bitch slap them or poke your own eye out with a dull pencil. It's that much worse. Now that we have places like Facebook and Twitter, not only are we lucky enough to hear the whining in person, but we can also log in to what we used to use as a form of brain-draining entertainment and have our eyes flooded with pages of bitching and moaning and groaning, and yes, whining. I understand that your eyes itch, your nose is stuffed, and your throat is on fire. However, must your entire wall be filled with not only the minute details of each affliction, but also, the most nauseating and aggravating complaints about those minute details?

My guess is that you enjoy attempting to illicit pity from friends, acquaintances, strangers, and anyone dumb enough to offer it for minor illnesses. You like feeling sorry for yourself because you like drama and all the attention you derive from it. It's easier to bitch about something than it is to make an effort to fix it. If you have a sinus infection, for example, you belong in a doctor's office getting a prescription for antibiotics, not on Facebook grousing about it over and over until the pity turns to disgust and no one wants to read another word. The flu is something that requires rest, not wearing out your typing fingers, crying on the figurative shoulders of everyone you know, seeking virtual hugs and love. Baby, get that shit at home and leave the rest of us to our sarcasm and bawdy humor, please!  Are you friggin kidding me right now???

Why your opinion about gun laws doesn't matter

Oh my God, she went there! I did, and there's nothing you can do about it. Everyone has been spouting off about guns, violence, gun laws, and what they believe the government should do about it. Guess what? It's not up to you. Another thing I'd like to bring out is while it is certainly lovely of you to care so much about the plight of strangers and their suffering horrific losses at the hands of people who are clearly psychotic, some of you take it way too goddamn far. As a parent, I can easily empathize with the moms and dads who lost young children in the Sandy Hook massacre. When I heard about it, I felt a momentary pain in my own heart, simply imagining what those parents must be feeling. I am not without emotion, believe me. My own child is my world, and I'd rather die than have anything happen to her. But, unlike some of you, I did not curl up into a little ball and cry my eyes out or post incessantly on Facebook about it as though I could come up with something newer and more different than we had already heard on the news umpteen times that day.

What I also did not do, was become a laptop attorney. My eyes were flooded with all sorts of political bullshit from people who don't understand the law and who, although, not directly affected by any firearm related tragedy, were emphatic about how things needed to change NOW and we had to remove all weapons from everyone but the police and military. Damn! While a ban on assault weapons makes perfect sense because the last time I checked, we ALL didn't have the balls to join the military and get shipped off to battle. However, to insist that we now do psychological testing, tack on additional wait time before actually picking up a purchased gun, and possibly just going bat shit crazy and convince people to get rid of the guns they already own is pushing the goddamn envelope.  Oh that's right, we did that last part recently, didn't we? We even offered cash incentives to get guns out of the hands of the potentially dangerous. What a concept! Now they have cash on hand to buy bigger and better weaponry.

Completely beyond my understanding is the theory that if someone who has the potential to be violent doesn't own a gun, they will somehow no longer be violent. How does that work exactly? If you take a psycho's gun away, they suddenly become passive and placid? By extension of that, if you take a firearm away from a rapist who always attacks at gunpoint, he can't commit rape again? A thief won't be able to rob someone without holding a .45? Is that all it takes? Remove the weapon and restore peace on Earth. Do you honestly think it's that simple? I honestly think YOU are simple. Access to one type of weapon doesn't create a criminal. The criminal mind is what it is and it is clever and resourceful. Remove one method and it will seek out a newer, possibly better one. You've done nothing positive when you take guns away. Actually, you may have enhanced their methodology by forcing them to be more creative. Nice work, fucktard.

Let me ask you this, do you think that a domestic abuser NEEDS a weapon to be abusive? I can assure you beyond the shadow of a doubt, they do not. In reality, anything in their hands can become a weapon...a hardcover book, a bottle of beer, a chair, a Zippo lighter, a shoe, or even a picture frame. In the absence of these fun items, they easily rely on their very own hands and can do all kinds of permanent damage with them. Getting pushed down a flight of stairs after sustaining a beating could be a death sentence should you fall head first and break your neck. Didn't consider that? Didn't think so. The reality is, violent people are who they are in the presence of and in the absence of guns. If they have no access to guns, they are still violent and have the potential to harm and kill.

Then, of course, you all went apeshit about mental health issues and becoming more focused on them. Absolutely!  I don't disagree with you one bit. Let's start looking in our own backyards, to start. Many parents out there wear gigantic rose-colored glasses when it comes to their children. Living in complete denial that anything may be awry with their little angel, they ignore any warnings or requests to have them tested...and that's just for things like autism and dyslexia. Could you imagine if they were asked to look into the possibility of bipolar disorder or oppositional defiant disorder? They'd run for the hills and never look back, transferring their little head case from school to school avoiding the truth at all costs. What we need is universal acceptance that mental health needs as much attention as physical health, and remove the stigma that is attached to psychological disorders. Are you able to remove the word crazy from your vocabulary? Yeah, I didn't think so.

Before you publicly express an opinion about a topic, do your research, think it through, and then wait. Knee-jerk reactions to incendiary news stories only serve to announce your rampant stupidity.  Spewing ignorant and judgmental nonsense, blaming the government, society, and Jesus for the tragedies that occur in our world make you sound like uneducated white trash. You may be the smartest bumpkin on your dirt road, but the rest of us use our book learnin' to form rational and informed opinions on all sorts of topics. This is why I know (at the risk of sounding like an NRA ad) that guns do NOT kill people, people kill people. I've lived with guns my whole life and have never once seen one jump up and fire itself at someone. I'd also ask you to refrain from wallowing in vicarious self-pity, behaving like you've lost a loved one every time someone makes the 6 o'clock news because they've been shot to death. Until you've experienced that pain for real, you have no fucking idea, don't bother pretending to empathize. Are you friggin kidding me right now???

Bullying, don't fucking do it.

Bullies are the weakest people on the planet. They build themselves up by tearing someone else down. Why? Because they hate themselves, and why is that? They are pure fucking evil. You can dislike the shit out of yourself and handle it however you see fit. Want to eat yourself to death? Have at it. Feel like drinking until you fall down? Here's a bottle. Need to self-flagellate? Let me show you some techniques.  But when you take it out on an innocent human being, you've become worse than steaming dog shit on a NY summer day. To me, you are the lowest form of life walking on two legs and should be shot on sight. Gun laws are another topic, and unless you've had personal loss as a result of gun violence, I don't want your fucking opinion on the matter.

Moving forward, when you mock someone else about the way they speak, it only reflects the fact that your own voice causes ears to bleed for miles around every time you open your gaping maw. Hating in others what you cannot tolerate in yourself is classic psychological projection. Yet, many dumbasses engage in this behavior on a daily basis. Many people who watch singing competition reality shows become Mariah Carey or Josh Groban when they sit on the couch, shoveling cookies and chips into their mouths, screaming out harsh criticism at the singers who are trying their best. Of course, the first few auditions are meant to encourage that because the networks show us all the ones that clearly shouldn't have been at the auditions in the first place. After that, when the real competition begins, the armchair Grammy winners come out of the woodwork and begin their expert assessment of each singer.

The worst part of what those folks do, is not sitting in the privacy of their own homes, hurling insults at the TV. What can be truly offensive, is those who bring it out of the house and into the public realm for all to hear. If I haven't seen YOU on TV singing your heart out, on a stage, or even in your church choir, it's time to swallow a hearty dose of shut the fuck up. If you have no idea what it's like to be in front of a live audience, by yourself, sucking back nerves and anxiety, mustering up the best performance you have inside, you have NO right to open your piehole and spew hatred about anything you've seen or heard. Bullying isn't always direct. The people around you, unfortunate enough to have to listen to you are also being tormented by hearing the shit that comes out of your yap. Fearful of offending, they don't tell you to stop. Afraid of being the next target, they listen and sometimes, agree with you. This doesn't mean you are right.  It just means you are mean and intimidating.  Feel proud now?

Those of you who bully by intimidation, I've got your intimidation right HERE! I don't care how big you are or how much taller you are, you are still a douchebag. Getting your way by scaring someone doesn't make you powerful. In a Sado-Masochistic relationship, the masochist holds all the power. When you force someone to agree with you or do your bidding by some form of coercion, they will, at some point, be the one holding all the cards. The moment they decide to stand up to you, disagree, or call you out to someone in authority, you are going down...hard. The fact that they can choose to say NO, gives them the upper hand. Sadly, you choose to instill fear into their hearts in order to get what you want. Pecking away at their self-esteem until there's nothing left but an empty shell of what used to be a functioning adult. Someone who will need a lot of work to reinvent themselves as the strong person they were meant to be, when, in actuality, you are the weak, spineless, fucker...not them.

My personal pet peeve, picking on someone because of their appearance. We all are guilty here.  How many of you deny looking at some chick walking down the street in a micro mini, stilettos, and a bustier, and calling her a whore? You know you have. Or seen some kid in ratty clothes and messy hair, shuffling down the street and accused him of being a drug addict? Who here hasn't seen a Guido and immediately thought he wasn't the brightest crayon in the box? Perhaps you feel as though you've stepped off the cover of Vogue and loudly taunted someone not dressed to your standards?  Maybe you are the perfect one who sees an overweight person and immediately assumes they are lazy and spends their entire day eating in front of the TV?

You motherfucking piece of shit. Did you ever stop to think that the scantily-clad girl might have just lost a ton of weight and finally has the confidence to wear something besides oversized sweats? Has it ever entered your mind that the sloppy kid may not have the money to buy new clothing and shops at thrift shops because his dad lost his job and rather than lose their home, they've learned to cut back? That Guido may be on a full academic scholarship to an Ivy-league university, and you'd know that by speaking to him rather than mocking him. Maybe the person in the less than stellar outfit isn't as materialistic as you are and would rather spend their cash on something more worthy, like donating it to charity. That heavy-set person...may be in their first month of Weight Watchers and is really trying like hell to get healthy. Or maybe they are perfectly happy with the curves they are currently rocking and so is their partner who finds a little meat on their bones sexier than just the bones.  You'd never take the time to find out, you're too big of an ass hat.

Bullies make me sick, pure and simple. People who stand by and watch it happen make me even sicker. At some point in our lives, someone has made us feel badly about ourselves...intentionally. No apology in the world can heal the scars of emotional abuse. We all carry those scars, some of us proudly. I can say that each one of them made me even stronger, much stronger than the pussy who dished it out without sticking around to have it thrown back. Today, I do not suffer bullies gladly. My philosophy is that if you can dish it out, you'd better have the testicular fortitude to take it back, in spades. Don't believe me? Give me all you've got, ass clown. You won't know what hit you.  Are you friggin kidding me right now???

Things You Should Never Say to a Woman: part 2

You couldn't have thought that yesterday's five were the only things that should never fall out of your yap, could you? Our brains are programmed to translate slight inferences and tonal inflections that men don't even know exist. If they were able, I'd hope half of this crap would be left unsaid.

6.  You look good for your age!  Would that be as old as dirt? For my age? More often than not, the offender doesn't even know your age and is assuming much older. Thinking this is somehow flattering, they go out of their way to say something about their brilliant observation. Or, on the other hand, they find out your age and let you know that even though you are a few years older than Jesus, you seem to be holding up better. The appropriate and safer response to hearing our age sounds more like, "That's impossible, I thought you were (subtract ten years from actual age)!" Commit that one to memory.

7.  You aren't old enough to have a 17 (18, 19...) year old! Did you have her when you were ten?  Yes, I was a mail-order bride and gave birth before going through puberty, it was miraculous. What the fuck are you saying exactly? If you are implying that I look young, then thank you. But to imply that I look young and that I must have been a raging whore as a kid pisses me off. Most folks will say it once and it won't have been too offensive for either party once they are straightened out on the facts. Unfortunately, there are the ass clowns who, like a rabid dog with a bone, will rant on and on, beating the topic to death and raising my blood pressure to unhealthy levels. Yes, she is my daughter; no, she is NOT my sister; I had her at 24 NOT 14; and if you persist upon belaboring this conversation, I will be forced to ram my foot directly into your ball bag so far that you actually stop breathing for a period of time. Are we clear?

8.  She doesn't work, she's a stay-at-home mom.  I suppose you don't really treasure your family jewels as much as you should. Anyone who made the choice to stop working outside the home after their child(ren) was born knows how much work they do during the course of any given day. They also know that their job doesn't start at 8, have an hour lunch break, and end at 5:30 at which time they grab their shit and leave. When we made the decision to raise our child ourselves rather than letting day care workers do it for us, we signed on for a 24/7 position. Not only would be be saddled with all the household duties, because hell, we WERE home, but we agreed to be a mom, teacher, nurse, chauffeur, chanteuse, walking coach, stroller pusher, book reader, cook, maid, waitress, personal assistant, and the end-all and be-all to this one little person. Stay home and try it for a solid week. As you stumble across the floor to reach for your much-needed giant mug of coffee, tell me again that it's not work.

9.  Is that your natural hair color? or Are those your natural curls?  While these questions are usually followed with a lovely compliment, there are times when they are not. Those times are the ones that set my fucking teeth on edge. I have previously admitted to playing with hair color on a regular basis, so I won't try to deny it now. However, when it fades, and it always does, my natural color comes through.  At least in part. Never one to stray far from the original, it is always a shade of red, auburn, strawberry blonde, or something in that realm. Throw in the fact that I do have blue eyes and freckles, unless I've gone completely fucking nuts and dyed it black, chances are it's pretty close to what has been the progression of my natural color over the years. Would you ask a man if those were his real teeth or if he used a penis pump?  I think not. The curls are mine, all mine.  They are wild, untamed, and a pain in my ass. But NO, I do not perm it, my hair does not have the tacky, frizzy look most girls had back in the 80's. Lesson here, throw a compliment directly after the question unless you like being set on fire.

10. Check out the tits, ass, legs, gaping vagina on that one!  With the exception of lesbians, I do not know one woman who actually wants to have another woman's assets pointed out to her. Of course, I am pretty sure that most lesbians have more class than most straight men and wouldn't call it out quite in that way. Having our own personal insecurities that we may or may not share with you, we are very aware of what other women look like and how we compare. There is never a need to direct our attention to the gigantic cans of some broad passing us on the street, remarking about how ours look like her twin babies. Trust me when I say, I have no desire to check out any woman's ass tightly wrapped in yoga pants that look like they are buried so far in her vagina, her cervix is dressed. My ghetto ass is the only one I have, I'm not shopping around for a new one, so don't alert me to the alternates. Point of interest, if you want to be in our presence and have the ability to breathe and use your genitals ever again, keep your eyes in your head and your mouth closed.

Hopefully I've shed some light on some relevant topics and helped you understand a fraction of how we tick.  This is not rocket science, we are not convoluted mazes to figure out, you don't need a road map to our brains, it's just not that hard. Pay attention to what I've said, perhaps read more of my entries to get a feel for where a woman's mind is coming from, and file away all of this important information in your memory banks. We'd never actually injure you, jail holds no appeal to us. But don't underestimate our ability to make your life a living hell for even the slightest infraction. Think I'm not serious?  Give it a try. Are you friggin kidding me right now???