Dumb bitch? What? You seriously just called me a dumb bitch! Oh my God.
At first, I am embarrassed to admit, I got a little choked up when I saw you call me this. That's right, I read your lips, mean man, and there is absolutely no doubt you looked me right in the eye and called me a dumb bitch after . . .
. . . I very, very, very tentatively inched my way around the end of a line of cars in the parking lot (as I swear I always do because I am obsessive about my car), when suddenly you came flying around the corner, but really DIDN'T COME ANYWHERE NEAR HITTING ME due to how cautious I was being.
So why am I a dumb bitch? Were you just mad because you didn't realize, until after hitting the breaks on your precious BMW, that I had been two steps ahead of you and ya hadn't really needed to slow down in the first place? Did that make you feel stupid so you decided to take it out on me, the dumb bitch? Shockingly, it really startled me and hurt my feelings, but . . .
. . . that initial reaction quickly turned to a pure jolt of anger as you roared past me and I realized what a complete jack-hole you are, and that's why I followed you to the end of the parking lot, where I thought you were about to park, feeling compelled to let you know that I am in fact NOT a dumb bitch. I can't believe I followed you, but I did. However, there was never an opportunity to say anything because you turned around, gave me a strange look and headed right back out to the street. Hmm, big fat scaredy-cat?
I'm not really sure why you never parked, but its definitely a good thing. I can't be bothered having confrontations with old crotchety men in parking lots. Plus, the truth is you were probably having a bad day or you are just mean or something that really has nothing to do with me - so I'm over it.
Nonetheless, I will leave you with a list of dumb bitches so you know for sure the next time you think you see one.
DUMB BITCH LIST:
- Casey Anthony
- Susan Smith
- Andrea Yates
- Diane Downs
- Aileen Wuornos
- You
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Vote for Me for God!
Seriously, I'm thinking we should start holding elections for God. I mean really, this one's body of work just isn't good, you have to admit, and we have probably given him long enough to get it right (like at least a few thousand years or something). It seems like the right time to find someone who is better suited for the demands of this position.
Honestly, if Barak Obama had done even half of what God has done (or not done) we would impeach him tomorrow. Poor Obama has an approval rating of something like 39% and all people think he's done is screw up health care and our economy . . . but God? Well, just look at only a few examples of his work below. How many of you would get to keep your jobs if these or similar events and people happened on your watch:
The Holocaust, World Wars, The Cuban Missile Crisis, AIDS, Cancer, 9/11, Hurricane Katrina, Assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr., The Great Depression, Slavery, Columbine, Charles Manson, Global Warming, Forest Fires, Floods, Drought, Famine . . .
I'd go on, but really - I CAN'T BE BOTHERED. If the above list does not convince you that God should be an elected position, I don't know what will.
So, cast your nominations. Who would make a good Universe Leader? Here are some suggestions to get you started.
- Santa Clause (he can fly and has presents)
- Oprah (she's Oprah)
- Bill Gates (he totally knows stuff)
- Tom Hanks (nicest guy)
- Captain Sully (landed US air flight 1549 safely in the Hudson freakin river, I already think he IS God!)
- Charlie Sheen (tiger blood, winning)
One last thing: Lets really insist that the campaigns be only positive, no exceptions. That seems the Godly thing to do. I mean, can you imagine someone running for God and smearing an opponent?
Honestly, if Barak Obama had done even half of what God has done (or not done) we would impeach him tomorrow. Poor Obama has an approval rating of something like 39% and all people think he's done is screw up health care and our economy . . . but God? Well, just look at only a few examples of his work below. How many of you would get to keep your jobs if these or similar events and people happened on your watch:
The Holocaust, World Wars, The Cuban Missile Crisis, AIDS, Cancer, 9/11, Hurricane Katrina, Assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr., The Great Depression, Slavery, Columbine, Charles Manson, Global Warming, Forest Fires, Floods, Drought, Famine . . .
I'd go on, but really - I CAN'T BE BOTHERED. If the above list does not convince you that God should be an elected position, I don't know what will.
So, cast your nominations. Who would make a good Universe Leader? Here are some suggestions to get you started.
- Santa Clause (he can fly and has presents)
- Oprah (she's Oprah)
- Bill Gates (he totally knows stuff)
- Tom Hanks (nicest guy)
- Captain Sully (landed US air flight 1549 safely in the Hudson freakin river, I already think he IS God!)
- Charlie Sheen (tiger blood, winning)
One last thing: Lets really insist that the campaigns be only positive, no exceptions. That seems the Godly thing to do. I mean, can you imagine someone running for God and smearing an opponent?
Thursday, July 28, 2011
When you're here, you're family?
Isn't that what Olive Garden says on their commercials? I'm pretty sure, though the truth is, not surprisingly, I COULDN'T BE BOTHERED checking it out for sure. Regardless, the facebook status update my cousin posted a few days ago is still shocking and disappointing.
He and his family (wife, 3 kids) were at a Florida Olive Garden and discovered that a little girl was there to celebrate her birthday and excited to have the staff sing to her. However, they'd recently adopted a new policy against singing Happy Birthday to patrons because others had complained. Others actually went to the trouble of complaining and Olive Garden actually stopped this tradition of singing Happy Birthday.
Every time this happens in a restaurant I must admit I roll my eyes and have no desire ever to have some strange group of waitresses sing Happy Birthday to me. But what sort of birthday scrooge do you have to be to actually complain? News Flash:. You are not at some swanky high-end establishment where they serve 6 courses over a 3 hour period and your bill is equal to a mortgage payment. You are at the Olive Garden jackhole. They will bring you soup, salad and breadsticks 'til you puke and you might still get change for a 20 dollar bill.
Honestly, whoever would go so far as to complain to management about this needs to really take a step back and think about life. Then - get over yourself and just use the birthday spectacle like I do: as a brilliant opportunity to make fun of yet one more thing. There is so much to complain about in this life. HAPPY Birthday is not on the list. For a complete list, see me!
Oh, and guess what? My cousin and his family don't give a rat's a** about Olive Garden's new policy. They sang Happy Birthday themselves to that little girl and I guarantee this was a lot more obnoxious than the well-rehearsed staff. You should hear our family's version of Happy Birthday!
He and his family (wife, 3 kids) were at a Florida Olive Garden and discovered that a little girl was there to celebrate her birthday and excited to have the staff sing to her. However, they'd recently adopted a new policy against singing Happy Birthday to patrons because others had complained. Others actually went to the trouble of complaining and Olive Garden actually stopped this tradition of singing Happy Birthday.
Every time this happens in a restaurant I must admit I roll my eyes and have no desire ever to have some strange group of waitresses sing Happy Birthday to me. But what sort of birthday scrooge do you have to be to actually complain? News Flash:. You are not at some swanky high-end establishment where they serve 6 courses over a 3 hour period and your bill is equal to a mortgage payment. You are at the Olive Garden jackhole. They will bring you soup, salad and breadsticks 'til you puke and you might still get change for a 20 dollar bill.
Honestly, whoever would go so far as to complain to management about this needs to really take a step back and think about life. Then - get over yourself and just use the birthday spectacle like I do: as a brilliant opportunity to make fun of yet one more thing. There is so much to complain about in this life. HAPPY Birthday is not on the list. For a complete list, see me!
Oh, and guess what? My cousin and his family don't give a rat's a** about Olive Garden's new policy. They sang Happy Birthday themselves to that little girl and I guarantee this was a lot more obnoxious than the well-rehearsed staff. You should hear our family's version of Happy Birthday!
God Made Me Do It
I will never understand how someone can say: "God put me there to help that girl," when the girl being helped was just abducted, raped and tortured by a lunatic. Shouldn't God just have prevented that from happening in the first place, rather than putting you there to help her?
Can anyone explain this? Why would God operate this way?
Oh wait, maybe God works the nightshift and this girl was abducted before his shift began so he could only put someone there to help her after hours . . . after her abduction, rape and attempted murder. That actually makes more sense. Maybe that's how it goes.
. . . or not.
If God is what many believe him to be - like a parent watching over us - how many of you parents out there would let things like this and worse happen to your children, only to save them later, but not all of them - just some? Is God trying to teach us lessons with all of this suffering? Kids do sometimes have to suffer to learn lessons.
"God put me there to help that girl" seems to make about as much sense as a father putting his young child in a car with no car seat or seat belt, then driving 65 miles per hour off a cliff, where the child is ejected through the windshield and nearly dies. Then, the parent calls 911 and first responders save the child. Would that make sense? Would that be OK?
Maybe things just happen and maybe those here on earth, not God, are actually in control and responsible for these things that happen, good and bad. Maybe the universe unfolds as a reaction to all of us and some of us end up in exactly the right place at the right time. And some do not.
I want to believe in a God who watches over us, but it is very hard to do that when there is so much suffering in the world. Any talk of God is a highly personal and complicated conversation though, so we should stop here. Maybe I've already said too much and this isn't meant to offend anyone, especially God. No, no. I CAN'T BE BOTHERED with the wrath of God!
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Religion & Underwear at The Gym
Maybe I just think too much about my underwear and not enough about religion because I can tell you this:
I would not be caught dead in a pair of stretched out faded granny panties that go well above my belly button and have a pin-head hole in them if was going to be taking my pants off in a very crowded locker room AND I would tell my Muslim hubby to take a hike (only not that nicely) if he expected me to wear sweaty head garb to kick boxing. No thank you.
You don't think these things really happen? Well, here is some information to show that women really should not wear panties more suitable for cleaning up oil spills in your garage and they do wear Muslim dress to work out and I am sorry but . . .
We cannot be bothered with religion or bad underwear at the gym!
Female Body Builder May
Change Dress Code for Muslim Women
Analysis Shows Ugly Underwear Can Ruin Your Day
Women own an average of 21 pairs of underwear, and many say an ill-fitting or ugly pair can ruin their day, a new survey shows.
"We know that bad hair days can affect women's moods, but who knew that bad underwear days could also ruin their day," says Lisa Lee Freeman, editor in chief of ShopSmart magazine, from the publisher ofConsumer Reports. Their research center conducted a telephone survey of 1,008 women 18 and older about intimate apparel.
Almost half of women (47%) say they feel sexier and more confident wearing a nice or special pair of panties. "The first thing we put on in the morning does make a difference in our day," Freeman says.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Classroom Crap
So, I'm a 4th grade teacher and the worst thing about teaching is having to pack up your classroom at the end of the year for various reasons - to move to another room, to switch grade levels, to have it thoroughly cleaned, etc. Regardless of the reason, this is a real nightmare.
This year though, I am packing to leave the general education classroom to be a math support teacher where I will share a much smaller room with another person who is even more organized and afraid of "stuff" than I am. So today, as I was about to begin packing, I very suddenly and very simply realized that I COULD NOT BE BOTHERED with all the STUFF!
Wanna guess what I did?
I started drawing names and asking kids to pick things from the classroom they might want. That's right - I pulled a name out of a bin and that kid got to ask for something in the classroom that was not purchased by the school and in most cases, he/she got the response: "Take it, its yours, and take this to go with it."
The kids told me they felt like it was Christmas or a free yard sale and that it was possibly the best day of the year. Kids!
We drew names until every child was chosen 3 times and on some turns they didn't just get one thing, but a bin, basket or bag full of things! At the end of the day kids were walking out to the buses with plaques that read World's Best Teacher, with homemade board games, bags full of fabric, decorative plastic apples and Christmas decorations.
If I ever go back to the traditional classroom, I am really going to wish I had this stuff, but right now I just wish I could hear the dinner conversations tonight as one student tries to explain why he brought home an old "Time Out" bench or another makes a case for keeping the wicker basket full of old cards and magnets.
This year though, I am packing to leave the general education classroom to be a math support teacher where I will share a much smaller room with another person who is even more organized and afraid of "stuff" than I am. So today, as I was about to begin packing, I very suddenly and very simply realized that I COULD NOT BE BOTHERED with all the STUFF!
Wanna guess what I did?
I started drawing names and asking kids to pick things from the classroom they might want. That's right - I pulled a name out of a bin and that kid got to ask for something in the classroom that was not purchased by the school and in most cases, he/she got the response: "Take it, its yours, and take this to go with it."
The kids told me they felt like it was Christmas or a free yard sale and that it was possibly the best day of the year. Kids!
We drew names until every child was chosen 3 times and on some turns they didn't just get one thing, but a bin, basket or bag full of things! At the end of the day kids were walking out to the buses with plaques that read World's Best Teacher, with homemade board games, bags full of fabric, decorative plastic apples and Christmas decorations.
If I ever go back to the traditional classroom, I am really going to wish I had this stuff, but right now I just wish I could hear the dinner conversations tonight as one student tries to explain why he brought home an old "Time Out" bench or another makes a case for keeping the wicker basket full of old cards and magnets.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Sad Songs
Do you ever hear a song from some of the happiest most wonderful moments in your life and have it end up turning around on you and making you so sad you cry your eyes out - unable to even listen to it, or is that just me?
The thing is, some moments were so amazing and joyful and once-in-a-lifetime-incredible that it almost hurts now to think of them because you can't go back. Its not that everything is terrible now, life is still full and blessed, but some of the most rich and beautiful times only happen once, and are gone way too soon.
After walking down the aisle to a song I have loved since the moment it was released in 2004, I can no longer listen to it. I actually change the station whenever it comes on and skip it on my ipod (note though, I won't remove it). Its "God Bless the Broken Road" by Rascal Flatts and the first time I heard it 7 years ago I swear I said:
Someday I am going to walk on my dad's arm to that song and he is going to give me away to an amazing husband and I am going to bless this road that is so damn broken right now.
It didn't occur to me then that once it happened, I'd never be able to listen to it again. I mean really, whose bright idea was it to have us dream of white dresses, cake, dancing and prince charming since we were 6 years old and then let us only do it one freakin' time (well, for the first time anyway). I really think we should be allowed to renew our vows at least once every two years - complete with a bridal shower, registry, reception, all of it! We only get to do it once though . . . and then its over and you can't go back and that is sad.
Want to hear about another one? Are there any of my college girls out there who can hear "Brown Eyed Girl" without thinking about dancing in a bar in Brockport, or whatever college town you were in . . . beer in your hand and all your best friends around, singin' like it was written just for you? Maybe your college song is another one, but no matter what song it is, it brings you back to those days when you were finally on your own, just beginning the path that would be all yours, scared to death at times but loving every minute because you found a bunch of girlfriends who were right there with you and guess what? They'd picked the same path so you had some hands to hold on the long journey.
When I hear that song I want to put on a body suit (1992, they were totally in!) and tight jeans and get in a drunken circle with at least 10 girls and belt it out. I want to dance and laugh and not care that much about anything except having fun and a song written just for us - brown eyed girls. I can still listen to it, but it hurts a little every time.
Oh my God, I don't even know if I can talk about childhood songs. I could cry right now and I'm not even listening to them. What are they? Oh, how about some 8-tracks of Kenny Rogers, "Through the Years," or a little bit of Elvis and "Love me Tender." These both bring me back to dancing in our living room with my sisters and my brother crying in his crib and dad laying on the couch and the smell of mom's sauce on the stove. Think of your song and close your eyes and I bet you too will be ten years old and you'll see your childhood bedroom, the kitchen counters and the couch. These songs are so complicated because families are so complicated and they bring you back to all the times that shaped you - good and bad. That makes me think of the new Miranda Lambert song: "The House that Built Me." Its beautiful and awful at the same time and I haven't heard it once without crying, so maybe I shouldn't listen to it anymore.
I mean really, I can't be bothered with all of this "remember when," which reminds me of the Allan Jackson song "Remember When," which is all about this stuff - the memories we carry with us.
"Remember when, thirty seemed so old?
Now looking back, it was just a stepping stone . . . . . .
Oh I'd do it all again.
Remember when."
The thing is, some moments were so amazing and joyful and once-in-a-lifetime-incredible that it almost hurts now to think of them because you can't go back. Its not that everything is terrible now, life is still full and blessed, but some of the most rich and beautiful times only happen once, and are gone way too soon.
After walking down the aisle to a song I have loved since the moment it was released in 2004, I can no longer listen to it. I actually change the station whenever it comes on and skip it on my ipod (note though, I won't remove it). Its "God Bless the Broken Road" by Rascal Flatts and the first time I heard it 7 years ago I swear I said:
Someday I am going to walk on my dad's arm to that song and he is going to give me away to an amazing husband and I am going to bless this road that is so damn broken right now.
It didn't occur to me then that once it happened, I'd never be able to listen to it again. I mean really, whose bright idea was it to have us dream of white dresses, cake, dancing and prince charming since we were 6 years old and then let us only do it one freakin' time (well, for the first time anyway). I really think we should be allowed to renew our vows at least once every two years - complete with a bridal shower, registry, reception, all of it! We only get to do it once though . . . and then its over and you can't go back and that is sad.
Want to hear about another one? Are there any of my college girls out there who can hear "Brown Eyed Girl" without thinking about dancing in a bar in Brockport, or whatever college town you were in . . . beer in your hand and all your best friends around, singin' like it was written just for you? Maybe your college song is another one, but no matter what song it is, it brings you back to those days when you were finally on your own, just beginning the path that would be all yours, scared to death at times but loving every minute because you found a bunch of girlfriends who were right there with you and guess what? They'd picked the same path so you had some hands to hold on the long journey.
When I hear that song I want to put on a body suit (1992, they were totally in!) and tight jeans and get in a drunken circle with at least 10 girls and belt it out. I want to dance and laugh and not care that much about anything except having fun and a song written just for us - brown eyed girls. I can still listen to it, but it hurts a little every time.
Oh my God, I don't even know if I can talk about childhood songs. I could cry right now and I'm not even listening to them. What are they? Oh, how about some 8-tracks of Kenny Rogers, "Through the Years," or a little bit of Elvis and "Love me Tender." These both bring me back to dancing in our living room with my sisters and my brother crying in his crib and dad laying on the couch and the smell of mom's sauce on the stove. Think of your song and close your eyes and I bet you too will be ten years old and you'll see your childhood bedroom, the kitchen counters and the couch. These songs are so complicated because families are so complicated and they bring you back to all the times that shaped you - good and bad. That makes me think of the new Miranda Lambert song: "The House that Built Me." Its beautiful and awful at the same time and I haven't heard it once without crying, so maybe I shouldn't listen to it anymore.
I mean really, I can't be bothered with all of this "remember when," which reminds me of the Allan Jackson song "Remember When," which is all about this stuff - the memories we carry with us.
"Remember when, thirty seemed so old?
Now looking back, it was just a stepping stone . . . . . .
Oh I'd do it all again.
Remember when."
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