I Can Has Lobotomy?

OH. MY. GOD.

I just made the colossally stupid mistake of reading some comments on the I Can Has Cheeseburger lolcat website. I now want to poke myself in the eye with a pen repeatedly. These are full grown adults, from what I can tell, talking to eachother in babytalk, making fucking birthday cakes out of letters and numbers, and ganging up on people who post a comment that makes a lick of sense somehow- kind of like so:

Dude Who Makes Sense: Wow, that is a cute picture of that kitten eating a taco.

Spaz Who Has Every Other Comment on a Comment Board: Essczewze mee, dewd whoo maykes cents, we speek lolcat heere, k thnx bai.

Additional Spaz: Firsties!

Dude Who Makes Sense: Um, I don’t think lolcat is grammatically correct. I just came here to look at pictures of cats.

Spaz: There iz certen kode of konduckt fur lolcat chatroom.

Assistant to the Spaz: I luvs tacocat. Is tastee. Like taco.

And on and on for hundreds of comments.

Which leads me to ask: ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?

Oh, wait: You can has batshit insane?

Jesus.

I want that last 10 minutes of my life back.

Dave Gahan Gave Me Bad Spelling

I can’t ever spell the word pursue right the first time. 

Dave Gahan pronounces it “per-sue,” in “Policy of Truth” off Violator.

So, since I’ve been in 7th or 8th grade, I have misspelled it every time I’ve gone to write it, I write persue.

“Never again, that’s what I swore the time before,” I say to myself.  And then I hate myself for speaking to myself in Depeche Mode lyrics.  I didn’t actually do that.  I might be a little daft, but not that daft. 

“Policy of Truth” always makes me think of Ryan McDuffie, my junior high crush.  We got into a fight on Halloween in 8th grade and he hit me in the face with his backpack.  He was the only kid brave enough to wear a Nitzer Ebb t-shirt to our ghetto-ass junior high.  He was a dreamboat.  I cried in the bathroom afterwards.  This song made me think of him and his pretty, pretty blond bowlcut.  Man, he was a looker. 

Damn you, Dave Gahan!  Damn you to hell.

You do have one of the most lovely voices in rock music, though.

Here Comes the Sun (Doo, doo, doo, doo, DON’T)!

This is me and the sun.

I think I should have used the picture of Apollo Creed and Ivan Drago to more accurately depict what’s gonna go down.

There.  That’s closer to how it’s gonna go down.  Guess who I am?  I’ll give you a hint.  I’m the one that fucking DIES!  Yeah.  It’s gonna be 86 the WHOLE FUCKING WEEKEND!

Balls to that.  Big, gay, shaved (or waxed) balls.  

AND, in speaking of gay, it’s Pride Weekend, but I have my 11 year old cousin coming to town, which will be a lot of fun, but also means I have to behave myself on a weekend where I am usually at my most naughty.  

Why does God not want me to get drunk with drag queens at a respectable temperature?

All I want is a 60 degree weekend with the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence and borderline liver failure from doing too many shots.

Is that too much to ask?  Really?

Where the fuck is Mickey when you need him?

I don’t even know who my Mickey is.

Hey, wanna know something kinda rad?  Dolph Lungren has a PhD in Physics!  AND, he broke 3 of Stallone’s ribs during the filming of Rocky 4.

So now you know, and knowing is half the battle. 

GO JOE!

 

Ridin on the Met-ro-o-o…

So, as every morning, I was riding the bus into work, when I happened to see this teeny tiny little girl with the most gi-normous afro puffs ever.  I kinda wanted to go bury my face in em or something, she was so cute.  Anyways, she was egging her little brother on, as sisters are wont to do, and they played a delightful game of parroting eachother.  Charming, right?  That’s what I thought too, until she started yelling “Flavor FLAAAAAV,” just like one of the numerous hoochies with no self-respect that demean themselves every week on his repulsive show, which I am shamefully addicted to.  It’s like looking into the sun- I am dazzled and filled with fear.   So, I make a joke to the girls father “Big NWA fan, huh,” to which he replies, “Nah, she just likes the show.”  Now, I’m no square, I’m not L7, but the idea of this man letting his 8 year old daughter watch that kind of crap made me really sad and kinda weirded me out.  Good role models there, fo sho!  If by role models you mean disease vectors in pink bras.  

All I could do is imagine her doing the bootie clap in Flav’s face in front of a camera 10 years in a tube dress.  What would daddy think of her then?  Sir, do you really want your daughter grinding on and sticking her tongue down the throat of someone easily old enough to be her father?  Ewwwwww…

DUDE IS NOT ATTRACTIVE.  It doesn’t matter if he has money- one can do better.  Someone that shiny without the aid of lotion should really have a full body CT and make sure everything’s okay.  He should also eat a sammich or 6.  In addition, HE WEARS VIKING HORNS AND SCREAMS HIS OWN NAME OVER AND OVER!  Poor, POOR Chuck D.  All that hard work and drive and brilliance, to have his cred blown by a half-wit being dry humped by golddiggers that don’t even know why the person she’s dry humping is famous.

Really, the words dry hump are really repulsive.

You know what else is a repulsive word combo?  Anal barf!

I love the word barf- it’s one of my favorites. 

I need to get out more.  Seriously.

Bus Stop, Something, Something, Something, Under My Umbrella (NOT ella ella ella)

Okay, Transit Fans-

You know how there are those seats in the back of busses where there is that middle seat that is in between two bars?  Have you ever noticed that when 2 people sit on either side of the bar, their asses leak over into the middle seat?  M’kay, with me so far?  So, if there is ass leakage, the seat becomes kind of a seat not seat because a quarter of each person’s ass (or bag, or coat, or child appendage) on either side of it is now occupying it (despite how large or small, this shit always happens), right? 

Why is it that even if there are additional seats elsewhere, someone always tries to cram their ass into that spot?  It makes the people on either side get all crammy up against the other side of their seat and then they have to suck their arms in, because that fool in the middle usually has 27 recycled Macy’s bags full of old magazines or some shit.  You can’t really do anything except look like a kipper snack with an i-Pod.  Have you also ever noticed that the person in the middle gets all huffy and squiffy because they can’t really move around very well?  Well, you were the person who sat there!!! Do you really expect one of the people on the other side to feel bad for you or something!?  No one likes the middle seat!!!  Unless you’re handicapped or elderly, you are perfectly capable of standing, right? 

I’m just sayin…

It makes it very hard for me to read Lenny Bruce on my way to work when you are elbowing me in my ribcage, Ass Craming Person.  He’s a funny guy.  I like to be focused when I read.  You impede this.  I am not amused.

Triangle Man, Triangle Man, Triangle Man Hates Mary

I HATE CALCULUS!  It makes me feel sad and stupid.

My math midterm is coming up and the professor gave us the practice test today- I have never wanted to hang myself from one of the many exposed pipes in my house more.  I want to slam my neck between the covers of my textbook.  I wanna poke myself in the eye with a pencil compass.  Fuck the ancient Greeks and the French.  Fuck them in their gay boyfriend having but it’s cool because it’s about power, toga wearing, Senate having, tragedy writing, chillin in the Acropolis, Olympic asses.  Hard.  With hemlock poppers for everyone.  I don’t even know how that works, but, yeah! 

I swear, Pythagoras, Descartes, and Euclid are all sitting there, high fiving eachother for making my life a living hell. 

Dear Baby Jesus, I know I am a heathen, and undeserving of kindness and mercy, but if you can find it in your heart to help me pass this [Your Dad]-Damn class, I will have a million of your babies. 

As Hunter S. Thompson once said “Lord, keep an eye on me, or you’ll have me to deal with.”

This is one of those classes where you have to have a B- to move on to the next one basically.  I am so hosed.  SO HOSED.

Also, yesterday was LL Cool J’s birthday. 

He is a dreamboat, and one of the fathers of my million babies. 

When Mama said knock you out, I don’t think she meant with his washboard abs, but thank you anways, Baby Jesus!  I know you wink at me every now and again. 

Hello…Is It Me You’re Looking For?

You know what makes me nuts?  Like Cujo slavering over a 2-year-old insane?  People who say “Um, hel-LO!” 

Example: 2 chicks on bus

Chick 1:  “Blah, blah, dude, blah blah stupid, hate him, blah…”

Chick 2:  “He sounds like a dick.”

Chick 1:  “He’s just sitting there, watching football while I am trying to talk to him, and I am all “Hel-LO, are you even paying attention?!”

And scene.

I especially hate it when people do it to other people they don’t know when they want them to do something.

Example:

“Hel-LO, bus driver…That was totally my stop.”

It’s so unspeakably rude. 

I have been really hung up on that kind of shit lately. 

Oh, “excuse me” is another one.   Unless you fucking mean it to be polite, don’t be a crotch.  All you’re doing is adding to an already inconsiderate society. 

Seriously. 

I get a little riled. 

If you walk past someone and nudge them, say “Excuse me,” for fuck’s sake!  If your driver goes past your stop, a simple, “Excuse me Sir/Ma’am, that was my stop” will suffice!  If your barista gives you extra foam, it’s very easily remedied- chill out.  There is no need to flip out on complete strangers because you are too tightly wound.  Jesus.  Did your parents not teach you how to conduct yourself in public? 

Emily Post and I need to go all Rae Dawn Chong in Commando and start shooting ettiquite books all shoulder mounted bazooka styley at these rude assbags. 

Now, I know you might be thinking, “Hey, she just called them assholes and swears like a truckdriver- that might be offensive to people who don’t like profanity.”

To you, I say chill the fuck out.  Do as I say, not as I do.