Stupidity is like Herpes. It spreads like wildfire. Once it is there, it cannot be cured. It seems as if it has gone away and then a horrible outbreak will happen and you will punish yourself for being ever so foolish. Of course that stupid person is still stupid! All the people who seem to have this stupidity disease are always happy looking, and worse, they tend to be in really happy looking relationships. They have good looking partners even though themselves may be less fortunate. As with Herpes. Every single one of those people in the commercials are having the best gawd damn time of their lives. What the hell is that about? Maybe they are just happy that they have genital herpes and when they have an outbreak no one has to know about it. Or maybe they really are having the time of their lives in the sunny warm park on a beautiful July summer day.
I love how the media/commercials/ads portrays different groups. Such lies-but still funny nonetheless.
1. Newport Cigarettes.
You too can be this fucking happy about a pumpkin if you smoke these disgusting cheap cigarettes. Or you can go camping with all your friends with perfect complexions and laugh all night. In fact you can do anything you damn well please as long as you smoke these and smile and laugh all day long, every day, for the rest of your life. There is actually a city called Newport right next to the city I live in, and it reminds me so much of the actual cigarettes. It's ugly, dirty, and although it seemed like a good idea at one time, it was actually the biggest mistake of your life.
2. Carls Jr.
If you eat Carls Jr., the finest woman you have always dreamed of fucking will automatically appear ... right in front of you! And she will ask you to get her all dirty with your condiment-y hands. Or slimy I should say. Because that is what women desire. Or Paris Hilton will wash your car with your 5 dollar heart attack. She'll rub the pickles into your dashboard and squeegee your windshield with a square of lab made cheese. Kim Kardashian will lay in your bed and eat your erh "delicious" salad. It will take her 24 takes to actually eat one salad leaf perfect so you'll be there for awhile. Oh and best of all, Audrina Patridge will sit on the beach and watch you eat with a blank deer in the headlights gaze until your head explodes.
3. Glad Forceflex (Pa-leeeease)
Ok this is a product that really boils my blood. First of all Glad thinks Americans are stupid. And while I will agree that a good percentage of Americans are stupid, I disagree that all of us are that unfortunate. In their commercial they portray us as monkeys. It really is not that hard to throw something away but apparently Glad seems to think we ALL suck at this task. So in order to fix this problem they have invented a product that simply does not work, and is actually worse then the original fucking trash bags! I have pantyhose that hold more than those bags. I have earned the right to complain because I bought them and was dissatisfied with my purchase. Of course like any other person I wanted to this "unbelievable stretching ability" they alway portray in their commercials! It RIPPED. Giant slice down the whole middle of the stupid bag that cost me three dollars more than the regular bags. So the next bag I used I tried to be more careful to what items I put in. Any flattened boxes with a pointy edge were no longer permitted after three bags ripped. Well shit, I thought to myself, now I have to cut the points of all flattened boxes or place them in a pile and throw them away separately. To make a long story short (too late!) I ended up planning everything out before I threw it away. Never again will I be fooled.
Pretend land is such a great place, almost as good as Candy Land. I mean come on, a whole town made out of candy?! It's every tooth's nightmare and every dentists dream. The only thing better then that is a stream made out of coffee and inner-tube sized donuts to float down the coffee river in.
Anyway...as I was saying. Pretend land has happy beautiful couples who have herpes, people actually enjoy smoking Newports, bacon cheeseburgers actually attract supermodels, and you can fit a smashed piano in a freaking trash bag. And sadly some people believe this place is real. Maybe it's the same reasoning with this Avatar movie. I've read that people are actually getting depressed from watching this movie. When I read that I could hear millions of people who actually have real depression getting slapped in the face. Because when you think about it, it really is a slap in the face to everyone who is actually depressed and doctors who study years and years to tell people that they are actually depressed.
I can see it now! So many therapists are getting increased clientele. Suzy Suicide Watch now has to wait another week to see her therapist because 20 new patients are freaking out that a made up jungle and a species of blue people don't exist. Not to mention Bi-Polar Barb can't get any appointments in until four months from now because her movie theater plays four different screenings of Avatar a day! Men and women all over the country are pulling out their yellow pages and making appointments to doctors and therapists and counselors who frankly don't have time for this bullshit. And for the damn doctor who coined this term Avatar Based Depression, you should lose your license and be sent to North Dakota for all eternity.
I may be too harsh about this subject, after all I was a severely depressed three year old when Charlotte died at the end of the movie, and even more so when I found out that (Gasp!) spiders and pigs are not friends in real life and they certainly do not help each other out in the real world. But maybe because I was lied to so many times about fantasy worlds that made me pretty happy, (Santa, Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy, Fairies kissing my face at night to explain freckles!) I was prepared to be disappointed in the future as an adult. Apparently not so for all these morons. Plus it's not like they made up the idea of a jungle. If these people are so upset why don't they gather the Blue Man Group take 'em to the Galapagos Islands and there you freaking go.
The funny thing is, if this place really did exist 98% of Americans wouldn't last one day without their cell phones, computers, Iphone Apps, television shows, blackberry emails, fax machines, and Bedazzlers. Not to mention the world used to look really cool before mankind smashed it down and laid five thousand layers of concrete over it. Maybe that's why these movie goers are depressed, because most of us can't afford to see the last untouched places in the world where half the animals are not going extinct. Maybe they are depressed because they are stupid enough to get depressed from a movie about fictional events. Maybe in the big scheme of things this goes much deeper than I am judging. But I highly doubt it.
January 28, 2010
January 10, 2010
The Antisocial Staircase
This is the second staircase in our house. It is literally 20 feet away from the main, much larger staircase. It is a pain in the ass to use because it is so narrow and none of steps are even. In the dark it becomes a suicide mission, although one would probably just get stuck instead of tumble to their death. The staircase goes from the front of the bathroom upstairs to the kitchen downstairs. You can go up the stair case, and down the staircase without having to face anyone in the living room. And that is why it is the Antisocial Staircase. It has become the only staircase the roommates use. I don't think they even go into the living room anymore. I could paint a big FUCK YOU in hot pink letters on the wall in the living room and it would go unnoticed.
How special.
January 7, 2010
Dirty Dishes, Dirty Thoughts
A woman's work is never done. Is that what they say? Well I'd probably be able to relate to this more if I had kids. But with the messes piling up around here faster than two shakes of a lambs tail, I'd say I do have two kids. Two kids that are grown up-or so they'd like to believe, and not in any way shape or form related to me. I hardly even know these people. What I do know is that they are lazy slobs. I can judge, I think I've earned that right. I used to be a slob. I used to have dishes upon dishes piled in my sink for days. I had piles of dirty laundry everywhere-and sometimes I still do. I used to start a new roll of toilet paper and didn't discard the old used roll. I had. . . soap scum. But then, I grew up. I finally understood why my father would get so angry that I used paper towels every chance I got, instead of using the dish rag to dry my hands. Paper towels cost money. But kids don't understand that, and apparently neither do some adults.
When Shawn moved into the back room of my parents house with me I was still showing signs of my lazy behavior. But in my defense, I was semi depressed and somehow and at some point sinked into a state where I didn't want to do anything ever. I still couldn't find work after working my ass off to graduate in four years. I was still living off my parents. And I had surgery, that had a longer recovery then expected, and received results that devastated me. So i think was entitled to some laziness.
Then Shawn and I packed up our shit and moved 1400 miles east. (*Side note* The roommates just slammed their bedroom door shut, can we say... cry babies?) Anyway, so we moved into a house with two other people, and I knew as we should all know, that it was time to grow up some more and become the clean freak I knew was in me (deep down somewhere!) out of respect to the other 3 people sharing the space. Shawn is nine years older than me so he already found his inner neat freak. Apparently though, we were the only ones who had these epiphanies.
I guess my anger and/or rage bloomed from three tiny things. 1. Toilet paper. If you can reach around behind and grab a new roll, then I'm sure you can throw away the old one and replace it. 2. The trash. It takes a lot less energy to take the trash out to the dumpster, then to pile more and more trash on the already full bag to find yourself 20 minutes later picking up, sweeping up, even mopping up all the shit that has fallen off the mountain and on to the floor. (Of course you wouldn't know that because it's always ME who ends up with the mudslide of trash at my fucking feet.)
3. Dirty dishes. If you're not going to take the responsibility to clean your dishes, then the least you can do is soak them in water so that when I get fed up and do them for you, it's easier for me (and a lot less disgusting) to wash them.
I'm not asking for the world here. In fact I think most normal people would expect these three things upon moving in with anyone. And maybe we should have gone straight to the point that we are roommates first, and friends second, but we didn't. How would we have known that we were moving in with Beavis and Butthead?
Honestly, I think I would be a lot happier with my living situation if I wasn't always in rage and fed up with those three things. I feel like I'm always angry. I fantasize about throwing their dishes out of the sink and into the backyard. Would they notice? Every time I walk into the bathroom and see the brown cardboard roll still on the wall and new roll placed ON TOP I feel like screaming until my voice goes out. Every time I am in the kitchen and see that there is a mountain of trash piled on another mountain of trash piled on the full bag of trash I get angry to only find myself holding back tears. Why the fuck is this my life? I'm 23 not married and no kids, yet I am already feeling the stresses of that life? Why can't I just do the dishes and clean and have it look that way for a couple days, why is that so much to ask? It takes them a mere two hours to completely trash what I spent hours cleaning. And why do they not care? How do they not notice?
I know what you're thinking. Why don't I just say something? Shawn has, and they automatically assume it's an attack. And if he says, "hey I'm not trying to start a fight but..." They still take it as a fight. And then there is tension. And the reason I don't say anything because I am past my point of reconciliation. I am past the point of being nice. And I don't want to be the bitch in the house, and furthermore, I don't want to get kicked out until I can afford it.
So for now, all I have is dirty dishes.
When Shawn moved into the back room of my parents house with me I was still showing signs of my lazy behavior. But in my defense, I was semi depressed and somehow and at some point sinked into a state where I didn't want to do anything ever. I still couldn't find work after working my ass off to graduate in four years. I was still living off my parents. And I had surgery, that had a longer recovery then expected, and received results that devastated me. So i think was entitled to some laziness.
Then Shawn and I packed up our shit and moved 1400 miles east. (*Side note* The roommates just slammed their bedroom door shut, can we say... cry babies?) Anyway, so we moved into a house with two other people, and I knew as we should all know, that it was time to grow up some more and become the clean freak I knew was in me (deep down somewhere!) out of respect to the other 3 people sharing the space. Shawn is nine years older than me so he already found his inner neat freak. Apparently though, we were the only ones who had these epiphanies.
I guess my anger and/or rage bloomed from three tiny things. 1. Toilet paper. If you can reach around behind and grab a new roll, then I'm sure you can throw away the old one and replace it. 2. The trash. It takes a lot less energy to take the trash out to the dumpster, then to pile more and more trash on the already full bag to find yourself 20 minutes later picking up, sweeping up, even mopping up all the shit that has fallen off the mountain and on to the floor. (Of course you wouldn't know that because it's always ME who ends up with the mudslide of trash at my fucking feet.)
3. Dirty dishes. If you're not going to take the responsibility to clean your dishes, then the least you can do is soak them in water so that when I get fed up and do them for you, it's easier for me (and a lot less disgusting) to wash them.
I'm not asking for the world here. In fact I think most normal people would expect these three things upon moving in with anyone. And maybe we should have gone straight to the point that we are roommates first, and friends second, but we didn't. How would we have known that we were moving in with Beavis and Butthead?
Honestly, I think I would be a lot happier with my living situation if I wasn't always in rage and fed up with those three things. I feel like I'm always angry. I fantasize about throwing their dishes out of the sink and into the backyard. Would they notice? Every time I walk into the bathroom and see the brown cardboard roll still on the wall and new roll placed ON TOP I feel like screaming until my voice goes out. Every time I am in the kitchen and see that there is a mountain of trash piled on another mountain of trash piled on the full bag of trash I get angry to only find myself holding back tears. Why the fuck is this my life? I'm 23 not married and no kids, yet I am already feeling the stresses of that life? Why can't I just do the dishes and clean and have it look that way for a couple days, why is that so much to ask? It takes them a mere two hours to completely trash what I spent hours cleaning. And why do they not care? How do they not notice?
I know what you're thinking. Why don't I just say something? Shawn has, and they automatically assume it's an attack. And if he says, "hey I'm not trying to start a fight but..." They still take it as a fight. And then there is tension. And the reason I don't say anything because I am past my point of reconciliation. I am past the point of being nice. And I don't want to be the bitch in the house, and furthermore, I don't want to get kicked out until I can afford it.
So for now, all I have is dirty dishes.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)