Category Archives: Rants

3 Reasons Why I Should Keep A Stack Of Thrift-Store Plates On Hand For Smashing

Or, 3 Reasons Why I Sometimes Consider Visiting a Firing Range

1. Bad calls.

There are many injustices in this crazy world, but few can inspire the bitter outrage of blown calls. The stakes of these games can be so high—and yet the outcome can literally rest in the hands of one ass-clown official. I nearly lost my mind in October when the Braves were knocked out of the playoffs after the single most idiotic call in the history of everything. That was Chipper’s last game, y’all. His one chance to play for another World Series before his retirement. And this man ruined it.

Sam Holbrook stole the Braves’ crucial momentum by making a ludicrous infield fly call. (Yes, I know Chipper made a bad throw and allowed some runs earlier in the game, but the BASES WERE LOADED people.) We had a very real shot at turning the game around until this potato-faced cretin decided to show everyone he has goat dung for brains.

I actually cried tears of helpless rage in front of Buffalo Wild Wings’ entire clientele when this happened. Two months later, I’m still deeply wroth. I still have a picture of this son of Satan on my fridge with some particularly vulgar decorations of my own addition. Incidents like these tend to, erm, rankle a bit if I can’t find an outlet for my ire.

2. Humanity.

Every day, the general public finds a way to steal a little bit more of my sanity. I don’t know why I continue to place so much stock in common courtesy when my expectations get repeatedly bitch-slapped, but I do. I can’t help it. I keep hoping that people will be as considerate of me as I am of them. I don’t block the aisle with my buggy. I don’t stop suddenly in a crowded public place or walk backwards without looking. I don’t force other motorists to absorb shock waves from my stereo. When I worked in food service, I didn’t just stare blankly at people when they came up to the counter. I always say thank you when someone holds the door. I use my blinker and go a constant speed on the highway (for the love of God, cruise control!). Sometimes I even roll out extra paper towels for the person washing their hands after me in the ladies’ restroom. And what do I get for my pains? Oblivious dolts impeding my path in every public place ever. Sullen trolls behind every register and food counter. Some fool blasting his bass loud enough to jiggle my internal organs at every stoplight. By the time I make it home from outings amongst the populace, I’m just one giant raw nerve. Curse you all, you pack of mouth-breathing pig-eyed savages.

beer

3. Cat hair.

Look, I love my cats. They are the joy of my old age (did I mention I turn 30 next month? guess I’ll be getting my AARP invite soon) and the light of my life. But THEIR HAIR. Y’all. It’s everywhere. I dust. I vacuum. I dust some more. I clean the wads of fur out of the poor choked Roomba every ten minutes. I scrape the furniture with this doodad. I brush the cats (when they let me).

This is how Piglet looks when I come near her with the brush.

This is how Piglet looks when I come near her with the brush.

The cleaning of cat hair never ends. And yet, when the sun is shining just right through the window, I can see kilos of fecking cat hair floating in the atmosphere. I sit down on a chair and a cloud of the stuff explodes around me. I go to a restaurant and find cat hair in my food. From my own clothes. Aaaaauuuughhhhhghhh.

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7 Reasons Why You Should Vote For Me This November

Or, 7 Reasons Why We Ought To Just Bypass This Whole Democracy Rigamarole & Make Me Queen of America

1. I will improve the education system by requiring courses in personal finance, practical life skills, and apprenticeships.

Look, I’m a liberal arts proponent. I’ll save my more detailed arguments for another post, but in a totally simplistic summation, liberal arts courses educate the soul as well as the brain. Which is great, right? Yay souls! However, as you’ve no doubt spotted, we also have bodies which must be fed and clothed and sheltered. This means that upon adulthood we are obliged to enter the workplace, establish financial stability, and manage a household. Many of us, alas, struggle mightily to acquire the essential skills for this independent life (I’m recalling the house I shared with four dudes right after college—sweet mother!) and that’s  just dumb. Being a grown-up is something we all have to be good at, or our lives suck, and that suckitude seeps into other people’s lives, so WHY aren’t we teaching students this stuff before it’s too late? Thus, I will decree that high schools require classes in budgeting & banking, home maintenance & domestic tasks, and basic car repair; additionally, colleges must facilitate at least one year of practicums or internships for each student as a degree requirement, regardless of major. After a few years, America will be peopled with competent non-idiots who can cook a healthy meal, write an interoffice memo, change a flat tire, treat that stubborn stain on the living room carpet, and contribute to a 403b like CHAMPS.

This is how I remember that house full of boys. Possibly a slight exaggeration, but only slight. Photo from here.

2. I will legalize pot, tax and regulate it, stop putting petty criminals in jail, give the economy a boost, and use the resulting extra moolah to add bike lanes to all major roads and highways.

See what I did there? I solved, like, a mofobillion problems in one fell swoop. No more spending millions arresting and prosecuting people who grow, deal, or smoke pot. Fewer people in prison. More jobs as a result of a brand new industry. More tax revenue. Paper made from sustainable hemp instead of irreplaceable rain forests. More oxygen. Once our bike infrastructure was complete, there’d be more bike-riding, less dependence on foreign oil, better fitness, fewer carbon monoxide emissions. EVERYONE WINS. Except fools who ride bikes while high. They can pay giant traffic tickets to support my next initiative: spay & neuter all the stray animals!

3. I will legalize gay marriage. 

This one follows on the heels of the previous point. I don’t smoke pot, but I don’t see why the heck the government should tell me I can’t. As a legal adult I have the right to drink alcohol and use tobacco, so why don’t I have the right to use marijuana too? Why does the government get to pick and choose my freedoms here? It’s illogical and annoyingly paternalistic. In the same way, I’m not gay, but you can bet your sweet aspercreme I don’t want the government telling us who we can and cannot marry. I mean, are we seriously starting down that road? In my mind, the purpose of a government’s existence is to protect the rights, health, and safety of its citizens and provide support for infrastructure, education, and economy. Private, personal choices like choosing a life partner, deciding how many kids to have, what career to pursue, what beliefs to subscribe to, what clothes to wear—those should never be under the purview of the government. Ever. When such things do become regulated we enter freaky 1984 territory. Have you read that book? Not to spoil anything, but it ends with rats chewing off people’s faces. Just FYI.

Haven’t read this? You probably should.

4. I will put all (government-employed) teachers, police, fire and rescue workers, librarians, and politicians on the same salary—starting at $60K a year for entry level. 

Actually we’ll probably need some sort of sliding scale that takes cost of living into account. I doubt even 60 thousand cuts it in some places in California. But anyway, everyone gets what is essentially the same rate of pay with incremental raises to keep up with inflation and merit raises if warranted by good performance. First of all, people in these occupations deserve a decent wage. Secondly, politicians shouldn’t be making any more than anyone else in civil service. And maybe, just maybe, this equalization would discourage typical politician types and actually attract real people to elected positions—people from diverse backgrounds and experience with an honest interest in improving government. Seriously, is anyone else completely sick to death of old rich dudes with law & business degrees? Can we, like, get some more ladies up in here? Also, how about some architects and preschool teachers and car mechanics and programmers and chefs and air traffic controllers and nurses? Probably a few farmers would be good too, plus it never hurts to have a librarian around.

5. I will establish a national holiday dedicated to making, decorating, and eating cupcakes.

This one speaks for itself.

cupcakes

I personally will celebrate National Cupcakeapalooza Day by making and devouring these pumpkin cupcakes with cinnamon cream cheese frosting. Click the picture for my recipe 🙂

6. I will pass a law giving fathers paid paternity time.

Why is it that dudes get the total shaft when it comes to having a baby? Um…I’m pretty sure they’re not getting any sleep those first weeks either. Plus it’s crucial for them to bond with their new spawn just like moms. I hate hate HATE that dads get no respect, like they’re somehow useless in the parenting process. That stereotype haunts fathers their whole lives and it starts the day their kid is born. Ok yes, moms have boobs full of milk. Right. I know. But I don’t understand how that translates into “Only Mom can care for baby, meanwhile lameass Dad over there is zero help at all so he might as well be at work.” I’m pretty sure there’s more to handling a new baby than breastfeeding. Also, marginalizing a father’s contribution to the family unit is stupid and sexist. Enough with that rubbish, America.

7. I will regulate health care even more. YES EVEN MORE!

Let me preface this by saying that I know jack about health care policy. Seriously, I just don’t even know. I’m shamefully uninformed. That being said, here’s how I’d do it. Everyone gets health care. Every single ever-loving soul in this whole big country, no matter where they fall on anyone’s “deserving————>undeserving” spectrum. Healthcare companies could remain private, there could still be competition between service providers to keep costs low, everyone could have the opportunity to use the provider of their preference, blah blah blah. Premiums would be deducted from pay checks like a federal tax. Those between jobs could still get affordable coverage by paying providers directly. Retirees or people receiving unemployment/disability would be covered by Medicare or Medicaid-like programs. Kids and non-working spouses would have policies under the working household member. And that’s that. Everyone’s covered. Everyone gets the best treatment available. And this Queen of America sleeps a little easier in her bed at night.

This is how I imagine myself as queen.

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3 Reasons Why Joe Paterno Is Pissing Me Off From Beyond the Grave

Or, 3 Reasons Why Everything He Said In This Letter Is a Pile Of Self-Serving Crap

I’m making a disgusted grimace at this picture right now (courtesy of this article).

1. He’s still putting football first.

Paterno’s priorities? Like, seriously out of whack. Instead of taking this final opportunity to admit to, apologize for, and perhaps slightly rectify his mistakes, he’s still just trying to promote his sport. He claims that “this isn’t a football scandal” and urges us not to let the ugly affair tarnish the accomplishments of Penn State players. Hey, JoePa—why don’t you point that finger the other way? If the amazing success of your team motivates you and your administrators to hush up child rape, that *makes* it a football scandal. You don’t need to worry about anyone else doing the tarnishing—you unfairly involved your players in your disgrace and cast a shadow on their accomplishments all on your own, so I know you are not lecturing the rest of us on the injustice of this situation. All the finger shaking in the world won’t change the fact that you put your program over the welfare of defenseless kids and those football victories are forever stained by your mistake.

2. He’s still minimizing the suffering of Sandusky’s victims.

Abuse has a ripple effect. It starts, of course, with physical assault. Then, like endless waves in a dark sea, come fear, humiliation, shame, powerlessness, the loss of objectivity and self-respect. Victims become depressed and isolated, overwhelmed by helpless despair. Their main obstacle to escaping abusers and finding healing is silence: lack of awareness and education, lack of support for speaking out, lack of acknowledgement and validation. Paterno could have been a powerful advocate for these kids—a lifeline for those too victimized to stand up to Sandusky on their own. If nothing else, he could have used this letter to openly admit his role in the affair and give these people some small measure of justice and support before his death. Just imagine what it might have meant to have Joe Paterno’s public sympathy and affirmation. Instead, his continued silence just adds to the victims’ personal and legal struggles. Atta boy, Joe, kick ’em while they’re down!

3. He’s still denying the true extent of the damage.

Paterno imagines he can convince us that this scandal doesn’t really reflect on Penn State—that somehow the actions of its top administrators and famous football coach have no impact on the institution as a whole. But this isn’t just misspent funds or a phony summer class we’re talking about here. What went on at Penn State was far worse: the pitiless destruction of innocent human souls under the knowing complicity of its most powerful leaders. Again, while it’s deeply unfair that the rest of the Penn State community must live under the pall of this scandal, it’s stupidly naive to insist that it shouldn’t affect the school’s reputation. Only someone who hasn’t bothered to understand the true horror of what happened—or the true consequences of his own cowardly actions—could make such a claim. Sorry, Joe, but this lame attempt to retroactively repair damage you could have prevented years ago only strengthens my conviction that, in the end, you were an arrogant and selfish man with little true regard for your players, your school, or your community’s children.

Want to help? Support recovery for victims of sexual abuse. Click to learn more.

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