Outrage Over Feigned Outrage!

Sep 03
2009

What the hell is wrong with people? Okay, let me narrow that down a bit – what the hell is wrong with some people?

Next week President Obama is scheduled to give a speech to school children throughout the nation. The topic of this speech is the importance of school and education and setting goals.

Parents are outraged. Outraged about the President of the United States giving a speech to children about the importance of school.

The horror! The outrage! The Gaul!!!!

Of the parents, not the President.

When did a motivational speech from the leader of the free world become a detriment to the children? Because you don’t agree with his politics you will rob your children of a message that, let’s be frank, they probably need to hear. What makes him unqualified to speak to your children? Is it because he rose from a broken, scattered childhood to become the President? Is it because he was able to overcome what he did not have and accomplish what he wanted? Is it because he has, to an undeniable extent, accomplished the American dream? What is it?

For those that even want to think race, it’s not that. I’m not turning this into that – at all. I won’t accept that. That is the cheap way out. While that may be an issue for some I like to think we’ve evolved enough as the human race to overcome that ridiculous, childish bullshit. This has nothing to do with race.

This has everything to do with ignorance. Paranoia. Partisanship. Polarization.

Anyone that has read any of my posts knows that I am VERY opinionated, and I make no bones about it. And I don’t apologize for it. There is nothing wrong with that. Until it reaches a point that you think the “other side”, whatever the hell that constitutes, is constantly attempting to undermine you. Even to the point of hypnotizing your children with propaganda.

When I was in school we were hypnotized also. President Reagan gave us all a speech – geared toward school children – on taxes. Something we weren’t even old enough to pay let alone give one iota of crap about. President Bush (Sr.) gave a speech about education as well. He talked about space a lot. Even drugs in space. Do you think I had the option of not watching those? Do you think I was given the option of calling in sick by my parents?

No.

In fact, the mere suggestion that I wanted to call in sick because the President was speaking would have bought me a quick smack to the head. And rightly so. When I was growing up we were taught respect. Respect of one’s self, respect for your elders, respect for others, and respect for your country. Something which seems to be massively lacking of late.

Whether or not my parent’s agreed with the President’s politics we were taught to respect the man – he is the President! To be outraged that he will attempt to motivate your children to stay in school and place a massive amount of importance on an education is an absolutely ludicrous notion to me.

The people that claim to want their country’s “core values” back and return to the way things once were are certainly not showing it by teaching their children not to listen to opposing views. How are we suppose to accomplish anything with a mindset that you should only listen to opinions which mimic your own? Even if you don’t agree with one aspect, or even several aspects, of the current administration’s politics how can you teach your children a lesson such as “don’t listen to the President, we don’t agree with him”? Do you not trust your children to recognize the difference between what you may consider “propaganda” and actual motivation to do well? Are they that single-minded? I don’t think so. But I think you do. Or you want them to be, you know, like you are.

Now, people that read my rants know very well that this post is HIGHLY toned down, I’m trying to make a point. I’m actually a bit aghast that people are getting “outraged” about this. It’s ludicrous.

But you know what? Go ahead and keep your children at home. The more I think about it and the message they would receive if they actually commit the cardinal sin of listening to the President of the United States and start to place importance on their education, the more I think those may not be the people I want to be the future of this country. If they are not open-minded enough to listen to a different point of view than what you force-feed them from your one-sided, absolute right and absolute wrong view of life, maybe I don’t want them to be the ones that rise to the top.

Maybe we have enough of those people in charge now.

Hey Pissant . . .

Jun 29
2009

You. Yeah, you. The little pissant behind the counter looking at me like I just attempted to explain Schroedinger’s cat to you with sign language – Gimme my fuckin’ latte.

Whaddya mean “did I mean grande”? No, asswipe, I meant large. I don’t speak French. Whether or not you’ve noticed we are in America – I’m not speaking Spanish, so by process of elimination that means I’m probably speaking English. Gimme a large latte.

What?!? No I didn’t bring my own cup. I’m paying you five dollars for a cup of coffee, I just figured you’d throw in the “fabricated from recycled panda assholes” cup for free. Go figure. Just give me a large latte in a paper cup for the obscene price of a pack of smokes, wouldja please?

Oh, I’m being rude? You’re gonna get your manager? Good, go get him.

Wait . . .

Before you do I would like to apologize. See, I’m probably about the same age as your parents so I’m gonna take a leap here and figure that you are semi-retarded like every other teenage male on the planet. So I apologize that when your father was your age he made decisions with his dick too.

I’m not sure what type of 976-suckuoff line he dragged your poor mother out of but I’m relatively certain you weren’t what they had in mind when dear old dad finally got the chance to whip out that 2 1/2 year-old condom he kept in his wallet between the autographed Wham concert ticket and the free arcade token card.

You are the reason condoms have an expiration date.

I would also like to apologize that, because mommy and daddy were young, they had no idea what to do with your screaming, shitting, whining little ass twenty-four, seven. I’m sorry they tried to be your friend instead of your parents for the first twelve years of your life.

That doesn’t give you the right to be a prick.

I am not sorry that after putting up with your dumb ass for sixteen years they finally decided to teach you responsibility and make you get a fucking job. I’m sorry that made you bitter. Welcome to the world. Get over it.

I’m really fucking sorry I’m even in here. If Starbuck’s hadn’t snapped up every square inch of free land on the planet, maybe I could have found a damn Denny’s and bought a real cup of actual coffee. Not a fucking “latte” which, I’m convinced, is French for “coffee that tastes like a skunk’s asshole”. I can’t even stand walking into this place, I’m afraid that somebody else that actually works for a living may see me and I’ll never live it down.

So see, life sucks for both of us right now. It sucks for you because you’re life is hard – I know, I was there once. The world is just conspiring against you and nobody “understands you”. Guess what – we do understand you

We just don’t give a shit.

I feel bad that you had to take time out from your “creative” schedule to get an actual job, if that’s what you choose to call this. And that your daddy won’t just “let you be you”. Maybe now he understands that a “creative arts major” is college-speak for “I’m just here to get laid”. He’s probably figured that out over the last sixteen years. Where do you think your dumbass came from?

Do you think daddy wanted to be stuck for the rest of his life in the shitty can’t-hardly-pay-the-bills job so he could support your rude little ass? Frankly I’m surprised he hasn’t taken a bat to the side of your thick-ass skull yet. He did something worse, though, didn’t he?

He made you get a job.

So now I’m standing in front of your rude little punk-ass in your cute little faggoty green apron in a built-in-ten-minutes over-sized outhouse that smells like a bucket of assholes trying to order a cup of coffee. And you’re giving me attitude? I order a large latte and you can’t even do that? What the fuck is wrong with you?

Listen, Scooter, here’s what you’re gonna do: grab one of those big recycled panda-ass cups, pour some “latte” in it – whatever the fuck that is – hand it to me, take my five dollars, give me a dirty look because I didn’t toss my change into your “tip” jar for pouring liquid in a cup – when did that start to warrant extra compensation – bullshit! Then, if you feel the need, go get your manager Tad, or Biff, or whatever his stupid, yuppie, underachieving ass’ name is, and bring him up here. I’ll let him know what a failure he is too.

Then finish up your shift, go directly home with your tail between your legs, and immediately apologize to your mother and father for completely fucking up all their hopes and dreams and basically being a complete moron for the entirety of your life thus far. Promise them you’ll never breed. Go get a real fuckin’ job. One without a nametag unless it has stripes on the collar and an American flag on the shoulder. Spend the next forty years of your life attempting to redeem the last sixteen. Try hard.

Welcome to reality. Get over it.

And pull up your fuckin’ pants.

Have a nice day.

Random Yahoo Answers

May 17
2009

From time to time I like to relax and help out other people. Yahoo answers is a perfect place to do this. When I do this I will pick out random questions and try to offer my help. Here are the ones I’ve answered tonight.

Question

Help!! Stripper removal.?

I had used a stripper removal in my bathroom. Said to wait 30 min and test and can be used up to 24 hours. I got called into work, and now the stripper has dried. Is there an easier way to remove?

Your Answer:

Wow, that’s a tough one. I remember back in the day when I had a stripper in my bathroom. She just would not leave! You must be using a higher-end stripper than I was, though. Mine would never let me use her after 24 hours. I was lucky to get a half hour out of her before the Rohypnol wore off. However, I digress . . .
Since your stripper has already dried she’s basically all used up and there is no further use for her (but you already knew that).
One option would be to simply lure her out the front door with dollar bills. Depending upon the size of your house, however, this may become a bit spendy.
You could always grab some chloroform and knock her ass out and simply drag her to the nearest K-mart parking lot. To divert her attention while utilizing a chloroform dripping towel you can simply rattle a set of keys akin to teasing a cat. Strippers are usually easily distracted.
If that doesn’t work you can always call up your buddy and get him shit-faced and introduce them to one another. He’ll probably be more than happy to take her off your hands. Read the rest of this entry »

To the Saleman

May 02
2009

Dear Sir, actually that may be a bit misleading…How about Dear blind dumb fat-fuck?

I understand that times are difficult at present and you may be doing this simply due to lack of options. So, if that’s the case, I’m willing to give you a few tips and let you know what you did incorrectly yesterday when you materialized on my doorstep.

First tip: Pay attention to everything (anything) around you.

For instance, you walked up to my doorstep past several things that probably should have garnered your attention. There were two vehicles in the driveway with United States Marine Corps license plates on them. That’s a clue that the occupant of the house is probably not in the mood for your training crap, or anything else, for that matter. I also have a cute little bronze yard sign that says “Non-religious occupant exercises his Second Amendment rights – Religiously!” That would have been your second clue that I was not in the mood for your horseshit. The third thing, and probably most important given your current employment choice, the large “No Soliciting” sign next to my front door.

These things taken separately would probably point toward the fact that there is a highly-trained, slightly quirky, no bullshit guy in the house. Instead you, in your obvious zeal for your new-found profession, saw opportunity. Well, God bless America. Tell you what, if you admit that you probably could have made better choices in regard to this particular sales attempt, I’ll admit that I freely volunteered six years of my life to defend your right to be an absolute dumbass. Deal?

I’m not sure whether or not you are aware that in the state of Colorado we have what is commonly referred to as the “make my day” law. It basically says that if I feel you are a threat to my family I can blow your balls off. I’m assuming, of course, that you are familiar with the Second Amendment. Probably a stretch but if you’re reading this you can look it up. You probably don’t feel as if you were being a threat, let me explain something that you may not know since you look about five minutes older than my teenage son. When you have kids, everything is a threat. For instance, if I were to, by some absolute miracle of unabashed stupidity, actually purchase from you the nice shiny plastic piece of foreign shit you were peddling, my eight year old daughter would not be able to purchase the brand new crack-whore barbie lookalike bratz doll that just came out. This may not sound like a threat to my family in your opinion, however, if you’ve ever heard an eight year old girl scream at the top of her lungs because she doesn’t get her way, well, lets just say I’d rather shoot you.

In the balls.

Twice.

I digress. You happened to show up as I was attempting to order my lunch. I was hungry, very hungry. So I’m gonna throw in a free survival tip for you – Don’t piss off a hungry Marine – ever. I will say you caught me off guard so good on you! Well done. When I answered the door with half of my pizza ordered, my four year old complaining about being hungry and my wife wanting a pizza with fucking spinach on it, I wasn’t quite expecting your twelve year old fat fucking Ruben from American Idol looking ass to be standing there holding a sponge. A sponge? A fucking sponge??? What do you want?

Read the rest of this entry »

Party Line

Mar 09
2009

It continually baffles me how an individual can conform to a particular set of beliefs without wavering nor questioning whether it is always the best solution. I’m unsure if they have actually researched their “views” or if they simply took the overall gist of a particular parties ideals and decided that ‘they were right about certain things so everything they stand for must conform to what I believe’. I honestly wonder about this. Read the rest of this entry »

How to Argue About a Box

Mar 08
2009

One of the main downfalls with solving problems, politically as well as everyday, can be summed up with one word: assumptions. Everyone assumes a ridiculous number of things every day. I have an oak door on the front of my house with a window in the top half of it through which I can see who knocks on my door. When someone does knock on my door I like to walk up to it and stand there staring at them – without opening the door. They, of course, assumed I would walk up, open the door and greet them – they were wrong. The way in which one reacts to this speaks volumes about their mindset. It’s really quite humorous, you know, if you’re warped like me. Read the rest of this entry »

Politics Suck!

Mar 08
2009

I am of the opinion that there are actually few people that fall completely into a category of either “left” or “right”, “liberal” or “republican”. The notion that everyone must choose a side to describe their political beliefs is, to me, ludicrous. The country is not as divided as the talking heads would have you believe. Read the rest of this entry »

Visit Our Friends!

A few highly recommended friends...

Archives

All entries, chronologically...

Pages List

General info about this blog...