Christmastime in the Emerald City











{July 22, 2008}   More Things and People I Strongly Dislike

(editors note, WordPress appears to be fucking up, and I can not reformat this post to have any spaces between the paragraphs, this is not because I am retarded, it’s because the internet is retarded. Thank you for your time)

There’s a lot of damn things out there that make me happy, but I think I’ve been spewing enough lately about how awesome my boyfriend is, how cute my rabbits are, and how I’m so awesome my farts smell like Cinnamon Buns (seriously, Josh made a shirt telling me so.)

Yes, I am this awesome

Yes, I am this awesome

It is time, I feel, to get back on the rant wagon once in a while. It’s not good to keep all that well-worded rage bottled up inside. It wouldn’t be fair for me to clock a preppy blonde soccer mom in the face just because she reminds me of that bitchface in the Tostitos commercials. I’d at least have to clock her for the right reason – being a preppy blonde soccer mom in the first place. So lets get this show on the road.
The Tostitos Bitch
I can’t find anything on Youtube for this, mostly because only funny and worthwhile stuff is on Youtube, not mindless media propaganda. But I’m sure you can imagine it: some ridiculously well manicured preppy blonde is standing in her kitchen while a gaggle of healthy teens and doofusy dad barrel through – clearly she is super busy, just like EveryMom. Oh but she has the solution for that after school or mid game snack, oh yes! And it’s quick too, that’s the whole premise of these commercials: she finishes whipping up a Tostitos themed masterpiece with time left on the clock and cutely retardedly stands there looking at the camera.
Firstly, I don’t know about you, but it takes me a fuck of a lot longer than 30 seconds to blend expensive brand name shit in a food processor, pour it in a bowl and surround it by expensive brand name chips. Secondly, this attempt to appeal to EveryMom and give her the impression that she should be able to do the same pisses me off *almost* as much as the clear indication that she will turn into superefficientperfectlycoordinatedeverymom if she only adds Tostitos products to her next grocery list.
Fuck you! Do you know how expensive that shit is? Do you have any idea how quickly those three and a half dollar jars of fake cheese add up? Do you really think that once I squeeze out a few kids I’m really going to care about whipping out the food processor every day after school? Or quickly slicing up some buffalo mozarrella with a leaf of fresh basil and placing it daintily on a chip thirty times over? You better believe that if I have that kind of energy, it’s because I don’t have to work full time in which case I A) won’t be able to afford Tostitos brand products on a near daily basis and B) would rather spend the time, energy and money on something far more creative. Like a pie.
You want a quick and easy snack? Open a bag of chips you overachieving cow. Shut your thirty second face.
Middle Aged Suburbanites on the Subway
Okay, all you mommies and daddies that have to spend a fortune on a babysitter for your spoiled brats and then justify it by leaving your gas guzzling SUV in the driveway and taking the subway into the downtown core for the first date you’ve had since the drugstore ran out of condoms eight years ago, listen up: You’re not cool or hip, or whatever else you used to call yourselves back when you had a life. Your pressed jeans and new top freshly purchased at Winners piss me off, and you stick out like a fat chick at an anti-carb convention. Likewise your cheap highlights, fake leather jacket and tendency to compete for the SAME GODDAMNED HAIRCUT AS EVERYONE ELSE ON YOUR KIDS HOCKEY TEAM! Have you ever seen these creatures? These suburbanite flocks that all do the same weird over-the-age-of-30 shuffle on a bar-and-grill dance floor? Because that’s what they do on their big trip into town, and they talk about it ALL THE WAY THERE!
Pizza Pops
Because they go out the same way they go in. Orange and greasy 😦
Beer Bottles Without Twist Tops
Do I really need another device between me and my beer? If I’m having a beer it’s because it’s been a long ass day and I feel like hanging out and being a lazy ass. Why is it necessary, so absolutely essential, that I now have to get up and get the fucking bottle opener that I forgot to get on the way back from getting the beer since it’s so unnatural to have to stop and fetch an implement to facilitate drinking the beer that I’ve already spent the effort on getting into my hand? That was a long sentence, did you catch all that? I’ve already spent all the energy I want to spend today on GETTING THE BEER TO MY HAND. And now you want me to do more stuff? Does this not crush the spirit of beer? Some of you are nice, some of you play by the rules! Them other ones, the ones I can just pop off with my sweaty little girl hands, those guys are alright. But you assholes who give me some excuse about how it affects the bottling process or flavour or some such micro-brewery connoisseur bullshit, you motherfuckers slice my drunken hand open with your sharp non-twist edges! I hate you guys.
And if you want to know why I don’t just get beer in a can it’s because I already feel trashy enough drinking beer by myself with dirty hair in an un-airconditioned apartment next to a bag of cheetos without the can of Pabst or whatever you get in cans. I might as well just prop a car up on cinderblocks in my non-kitchen.
Cars with Ridiculous SubWoofers and the Assholes Behind the Wheel
So what’s the first thing you think when you see that sweet upgrade on your tiny dick little ride? “Oh fucking sweet dude, now everybody I drive past is going to instantly hate me for interrupting their movies, sleep, conversation, and awkward sexual advances. I rule!” What the fuck? If you’ve got this sound system, you’re automatically an idiot. If you weren’t an idiot, you’d know that you can only hear to a certain extent, and below this frequency you can’t hear a thing – you can only feel it, and you can only feel it twenty feet away where you AREN’T! You’re paying for a system that does not much extra for you, but does fucktons to irritate people nowhere near enough to your proximity to have done anything to deserve your overpriced interruption. If you’re paying to be an asshole, you suck.
And lastly, my personal favourite:
Motherfucking Greyhound
I don’t have near enough energy to go into the precise details of how much I hate Greyhound, but let me put it this way. Greyhound kept me waiting from 1am to 5:45 am in Richmond, Virginia surrounded by blaring TVs going into incessant depth on the latest Hulk Hogan death threat. Greyhound doesn’t seem to understand how to tell crazy bitches who clearly just had their hair did that their tater tot kids don’t get to strut in front of the other 150 people in the lineup – some of whom also have kids. Greyhound apparently pissed me off enough in Washington that I can’t remember a thing about the city. Greyhound had me run around the New York City bus stop with unidentified gates and passengers trying to get to Switzeland. Greyhound advises their new drivers to wander away from the vehicle when it breaks down for two hours at a truckstop halfway to Syracuse to better facilitate the crazy toothless truck driver who feels like climbing aboard to tell everyone all about the horrible bus crash he saw three weeks ago where eleven people died, despite my insistent questions “Who are you and why are you on my bus?” Greyhouse likes to advise dispatch of the wrong directions, sending my driver into the wrong end of some asswipe of a town nowhere near where I’m supposed to be. Greyhound likes to say “‘Dat ain’t mah prawllum, ma’am” instead of “this query of yours does not pertain to my job description, please go to the help desk where nobody is waiting to assist you.” Greyhound throws your shit to the ground hard enough to send your lipstick rolling through the gutters of the US Border Patrol. Greyhound doesn’t clean their bathrooms. Greyhound likes to thank me for choosing them. Greyhound is how I kicked my hardshell suitcase hard enough to break my toe.
Greyhound, you suck.
*Shakes fist*
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talea says:

Dude, you kill me. All the shit you were ranting about today wound up on your blog. I cracked up out loud when I read, “already feel trashy enough drinking beer by myself with dirty hair in an un-airconditioned apartment next to a bag of cheetos without the can of Pabst or whatever you get in cans. I might as well just prop a car up on cinderblocks in my non-kitchen.”

Sometimes I feel trashy when I choose to spend my time drinking wine rather than showering or doing laundry. But mostly I just remember how much I like wine.
And I hate EveryMom. And I hate the suburbanites on the trains, but they’re good for a laugh.



Pure Evyl says:

I hate those assholes with their thumpin’ ass cars. If I wanted to listen to that shit then I would buy the fuckin’ cd. What a bunch of fucktards.



@ talea: I was also going to say “naked” but I don’t eat cheetos naked. Also that’s from Ron White, which would make me even more redneck.

@ pure evil: I know! Doesn’t it make you want to seriously inquire about snipers? Bass systems aren’t explosive, are they?



Josh says:

All these things piss me off too, minus the commercial lady, cause I haven’t seen that commercial. Also I think our suburbanites are a bit different than yours, but ours suck too. And i actually like beer in a can. It takes up less space so i can fit it in my scooter. And I already know I’m trashy, and I enjoy it and own it, so get over yourself, you’re just mad cause you’re a girl and you have a hard time opening beer with a pop top. Admit it. But fast a nd furious wannabe’s piss me off too with their loud ass bull shit. I mean there’s nothing wrong with loud music, but don’t fucking wake other people up with your shit, i mean damn! That’s just retarded. And of course Greyhound sucks, I warned you about them, especially Richmond!

All in all a hilarious and triumphant return to your ranting motif. Bravo old chap. Well done, I say!



May says:

Oh! Oh! Fun!!

The Tostitos Bitch – I don’t mind the EveryMom shit, because as you know I just aim to be even better than them because I’m rad and they’re not.

Middle Aged Suburbanites on the Subway – Duuuuude, I know! They make me froth at the mouth, no lie.

Pizza Pops – Um, holy graphic Em! Thanks a lot!

Beer Bottles Without Twist Tops – For years I only ever drank Sleeman’s Cream Ale and I carried my bottle opener in my back pocket all the time (which is less weird than it sounds because I was also an overworked bartender…) So long story short, I often assume the bottle needs a bottle opener even if it doesn’t.

Cars with Ridiculous SubWoofers and the Assholes Behind the Wheel – Oh man, I know it. My brother in law is one of these guys. I mean he’s a nice guy and all and I love him and all that, but yeah I really don’t love driving around in his car – a very blue Grand Am, no less. πŸ˜‰

Motherfucking Greyhound – I’ve only ever used Canadian Greyhound and never longer than a 5 hour trip, it sounds like American Greyhound sucks huge donkey balls and should be avoided at all costs. Next time, fly.



romi41 says:

First of all, your fart t-shirt rules πŸ™‚

Secondly: “You want a quick and easy snack? Open a bag of chips you overachieving cow. Shut your thirty second face.”…HAHAHA…I’ve missed you, you lovesick fool! Good to have you back πŸ™‚

Thirdly, effin’ Greyhound! I had no idea they had so many issues, but you probably listed off like 10 there…I’m suprised you didn’t physically assault any childeren out of rage…I prolly would have 😦



@ my baby: I don’t have a hard time opening bottles with pop tops, I just use my shirt if I have to. I have a hard time with NON pop tops that you have to go get the opener for – Why?! What’s the point?!?! But when you’re around you can open bottles for me, I have girl hands

@ May: Yeah, but you’re not EveryMom, you’re SuperMom. Notice that you don’t open a bag of Tostitos? That there are no Tostitos in your house on the average occasion? That you bake PIES and POLAR BEAR COOKIES with a housefull of wee ones, one of whom is aka Baby Chuck Norris? That lazy ass fake mom needs to get an APRON!!! Next time you do see that commercial, please flap your apron at her and go “YEEEEAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!!! TAKE THAT!!! MAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA!!!! I WIN I WIN I WIN!!!” I’m sure you’ll find it great fun, and it’ll make me feel vicariously superior as well.

@ Romi: Dude, on the way there, which was not that bad compared to the way back, there was this toddler who kept offering me her fried chicken while her mom slept with her hair did smooshed up against the window. If that tyke had been on the trip back, she’d have been praying to the tooth fairy. Uuuuuurrrrgghhkkkk *twitch*



Duffboy says:

Oh, how I hate the subwoofer mutants. Here in Guatemala, we barely have those beer tops, the bottle openers are mandatory (I get your rage).



joebecca says:

GREAT RANT GREENIE!!

I totally appreciate the tositos bitch rant. the last time i made “homemade nachos” it cost me 40 fucking dollars!! no, i’m not lying! next time i got two words for ’em!~ Taco Bell!



May says:

Thanks for the SuperMom nod, I shall do a dance with my apron next time I see her.

Also, the apron on the pregnant tummy is to die for! πŸ˜‰



Thank you for choosing Greyhound??? What other choice is there in the world of buses? And there in lies the problem. They know they have our poor bus taking asses right where they want ’em. I’ve gone the bus rout a few times myself, and it sucked every single time. πŸ‘Ώ Grrr!



@ duffboy: mandatory bottle openers?!??! i’ll take my winter 😦

@ joebecca: i know, right?! just went grocery shopping over the weekend, that shit seriously is expensive. the only time i justify it is if i’m going to the movies. instead of paying $13 for nachos i make my own at home and smuggle them in with tupperware, and eat them smugly.

@ may: dude, pictures much? jes? pregnant apron tummy pictures should be a new facebook album.

@ peter parkour: there are other choices that i didn’t even know about. i was on a peter pan bus for part of the way down there, which struck me as hilarious. and then there’s can-somethingorother? toronto is a pretty central hub, other buses do abound…but methinks i shall fly next time. still rife with stress and too many members of the public and the customs issue, but at least its only a few hours and not a whole damn day. grrrrrr.



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