Category Archives: RANT!

The Dangerous Trend of Dragging Your Small Child Everywhere it Doesn’t Belong

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I’m so ticked at this “blogger” that I have to comment. Look at this:  I’m an Idiot.

Also, grammar and spelling count. She fails at this repeatedly (just go look:  she’s a “reformed heroine addict” what, was Wonder Woman harshing her day? Was she addicted to Batgirl? The mind boggles) and she calls herself a writer. Hey, bitch, writing a badly written blog does NOT make you a writer. Get your shit published or STFU. But hey, she’s homeschooling the next generation. I’m SO excited that McDonalds will have no shortage of workers.

Now to address her idocy:

Back in the Dark Ages, when I was a child, there were kid things, and adult things. My parents hired a babysitter to go to adult things, or they (OMFG) STAYED HOME.

Our new parent entitlement society says kids should be allowed everywhere, all the time.

Um, NO.

Now? Kids go EVERYWHERE. Which is WRONG. And the first person who says, “But, we have to take them out in public to socialize them” is getting a brick to the head. You socialize your kids AT HOME. They learn manners at the dinner table – YOU teach them that there before you take them out in public.

This new generation of helicopter parenting and entitlement is going to swing back the other way. It currently is.

Having a kid is not anything spectacular. Sadly, in today’s society, being a GOOD parent is.

2nd Amendment. You’re Doing it Wrong

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Every time I see some ridiculous asshat on Youtube, or on a video shared on Facebook, who stupidly damn near blows his head off (and trust me, sometimes I wish said asshat would remove himself from the gene pool) I just shake my head and think, “Thanks for fucking up, bro.”

It’s in these moments I understand why people want to ban guns. Because, stupid + bullets = dead.

They’re not the rule. They’re the exception and the horrible warning. Guns are not toys.

I am a responsible gun owner. I have a semi-automatic pistol in my apartment; it is unloaded and the pistol and ammo are far enough away that I (living in a security building; you come here you’re coming for ME) have to get out of bed, cross a room, and pop in a clip before I can shoot you. I belong to a gun club and I practice. I like target shooting; it’s FUN. I’m not necessarily training to blow someone’s head off (but ask me about zombie pirate targets; those are FUN).

I know how to break my gun down, clean it, put it back together, and use it. I’m not some paranoid homeowner who heard the words self defense and gun and went out and got one with no real knowledge of how to use it or how to take care of it. Or how to keep it away from little hands. Seriously, you have to lock that shit up if you have kids.

Yes, there are a lot of irresponsible asshats out there. Yes, they scare me too. But, it’s the same with cars. There are a lot of shitty drivers out there, but I have yet to hear anyone saying we should ban cars. Hmmm.

Trying to take my 2nd Amendment rights away because people are stupid is like canceling the bus schedule because people can’t tell time.

Triggers Belong on Things that Shoot

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I’m getting more than a little annoyed at this whole “trigger” culture.

You know what they called that in my day?

LIFE.

Seriously? Something upset you in a book, movie, or on the Internet? GROW UP AND MOVE ON.

Life is about unpleasant things. It can sometimes suck. It can, indeed, remind you of past bad experiences.

But you know what? THAT IS WHAT MAKES YOU STRONGER.

We are raising a generation of total pussies. Make them GROW UP, and DEAL with adversity.

That’s what made America America, you know?

Wussifing kids helps NO ONE. Having a SPINE is what built this country, and the lack of it is what is totally going to ruin it.

Why I Don’t Understand Anti-Vax People

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You know what? I will never have children, so this is not my problem, but I’m going to throw my two cents in anyway.

First, let’s talk about herd immunity. Because I think a LOT of you are living in ignorant bliss right now.

In America, a great deal of “the herd” is immune, right now. Do you anti-vax people not get that in ten or twenty years, the “immune” herd is going to be a LOT smaller? Your particular calf is going to be in danger, then. Oh, I’m sure, ONE kid, somewhere, had a bad reaction. And if it was YOUR kid, I get you’re upset and really fucking pissed about it.

HOWEVER:

I was part of the WHO’s “Smallpox Eradication Program” (not that I knew it). I was born in 1966. Yes, I have a lovely smallpox vax scar on my arm. See? smallpox

Oh, I’m scarred for life. Yes, I am. The horror. Bigger horror? Dying from smallpox.

Look, I’m an accountant, and I fully understand the math behind risk/reward. You want to know what? I’ll take Vaccinations over Major Illnesses That Can Kill Me any time. ANY TIME.

You feel free to choose differently. But if your kid gets sick and dies of some disease that could have been prevented by a shot that hurt for TWO SECONDS, don’t cry to me. I get that modern science is not the be-all and end-all of existence, but sometimes you have to look at the math, NOT the emotional toll.

I have no dog in this fight, but I encourage you to think long and hard about your choices for your children. LONG and HARD.

I’m part of The Herd. I’m 46.

The herd isn’t getting any younger. I’m just sayin’.

And if this itty bitty circular scar is the worst thing to happen to your kid, count yourself lucky. My mother cared enough to protect me from shit that could kill me. She was a pragmatist who understood risk/reward and would have taken her lot in life stoically had she not drawn an Ace. She knew what she was doing. She knew men with advanced degrees probably knew better than she did. And she wanted her kids to live, and not be sick and suffer. She’d seen what happened to kids with polio, so she knew. Vaccines are NOT the devil.

Science>GAWD. Get over it, people. Fact>fiction. Same story.

Dear Comcast

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I have been your loyal customer (servant) for probably 12-14 years. THINK ABOUT THAT. I have a two-year gap where I lived in a place where I had to get Qwest (now CenturyLink) and THEY ARE THE DEVIL. Imagine my horror when I started to seriously consider them a lesser evil than YOU.

You graciously gave me cable/Internet at a lesser price than Internet only. Bravo! Problem is, you somehow attributed a cable tuner to that account. Um, NO, I am using the INTERNET. I am NOT using cable. Did you mail it to me? Did my fairly Godmother deliver it?

IT NEVER GOT HERE.

When I swapped apartments, they tried to tell me I owed them for TWO cable adapters. Um, no. I NEVER got any adaptors, and I returned the modem months ago.

Here’s the capper: NO ONE said ANYTHING about the modem. EVER. When I moved, the chick said, “Well, one adapter is inactivated, so I’ll take that off. When you get your first bill, there will be a $40 charge for the other, and you can dispute it then.”

Great.

Know what happened? THEY TURNED IT OVER TO COLLECTIONS TWO WEEKS LATER.

WHAT? I HAVEN’T GOTTEN A BILL YET!!!!!!!!

NOW, collections is saying I owe for 2 adaptors and a modem. What?

THEN, TWO WEEKS after I move, they CANCEL my cable. Why? Oh, were we supposed to move that? Our bad.

OMFG.

You know how I finally got some relief? Posted on the boards. Told them they are thisclose to losing an 8 year customer.

Got an “esclated” call from Someone Who Is In Charge. We’ll see how this goes.

He was seriously a Happy Camper and I suspect he gets that I pay my bills on time, and am a long time customer, and have always, in the past, returned their hardware, so I’ll bet you dollars to donuts this shit is OVER.

But wow, really? Generally, I love Comcast. I defend them to all my friends who have issues with them. This is the first real problem I’ve had in the many years I’ve dealt with them, but I have to say, it’s a doozy. I am shocked that it had to go to this level to be solved.

I love Comcast. I really do. But the bloom is really off the rose, now. Please, Comcast, prove yourselves worthy to be back in my fold. I really want you to.

Apartment Etiquette, Part I

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I spent 11 of my 16 years in Colorado as a renter. Last year I sold my condo and went from renter to homeowner to renter again.

My thoughts.

1) As you can see based on the math, I was a renter a LOT longer than I was an owner. You can also see that I basically went from apartment renter to condo owner to apartment renter. So, as you can see, since I moved here in 1993, I have ALWAYS lived in what is lovingly known as “high-density housing”.

2) You get loud neighbors and LOUD neighbors. I generally have always tried to live on the top floor of an apartment complex because my “upstairs” neighbors ALWAYS seem to either a) weigh 300 lbs. or b) jumprope in the livingroom or c) have kids they have never taught not to RUN AND JUMP in the apartment (which I have never understood, because my parents raised me with manners). Because it’s all about THEM, yanno. *queue eyeroll*.

3) You can complain until you’re blue in the face, but at some point, ANY rental agency is going to say, “I don’t care that you’ve STFU and paid your rent for 15 years, we FINALLY rented the place above you! STFU!

They really think two rents is a win. Is it? If you really think my 7 year-rental-as-a-single-woman-with-a-cat who bothered nobody is better than your new-couple-with-three-screaming-brats who are annoying the entire neighborhood is better, take your money and run. Because my stable, rent-paying ass it out of here. RIGHT FREAKING MEOW.

For now, I’m working on a top floor apartment. And trust me, no one will ever know I was ever up there. Because I have consideration for my fellow apartment dwellers, unlike the idiots that live upstairs from me. God, I miss the days when that apartment was empty…

Personhood = FAIL

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The whole “Personhood” movement is the reason I’m glad my uterus is in a trash can somewhere.

Let’s get real here, people. There is one, and only ONE, reason for this: to make women second-class citizens, once again. The religious nutters don’t like the fact that the wimmins have got minds of their own, yanno, so they think they’ve found a way to shut us right the fuck up.

Look, you can believe in God, the Devil, or the freaking Flying Spaghetti Monster if you want to, but let me say this loud and clear: MY UTERUS. MY BUSINESS.

Quite frankly, if men could get pregnant abortion would be a fucking RELIGION.

So, religious nutters, feel free to play in your sandbox, but STAY THE HELL OUT OF MINE.

There are a serious number of people on this planet who need to learn the definition of separation of church and state, and who need to realize the Constitution says freedom FROM religion, not freedom OF religion. BIG difference.

Tales from the Bike Trail

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Wow, only my second time on the bike trail this year and already the idiots are out. This does not bode well.

Just a couple of tips, folks, when you’re out on the bike trail:

1) just because you have your dog on one of those five million foot long retractable leashes DOES NOT mean you can let him run at the very end of it. This is ESPECIALLY true if you’re letting the dog run on the OTHER side of the trail. You have now created a great accident-in-waiting for the poor bastard who comes tearing around the corner and sees you. Oh, and when I holler out I’m behind you and want to pass, you need to PULL THE DOG TO YOU, not stand there and stare like I’m somehow going to magically take flight and go over you.

2) to the lady who was letting her medium-sized dog take her out for a drag: you, madam, not only need to ditch the retractable leash, you need to hie yourself and your canine to an obedience class. Honestly, what was the point of getting the dog if you weren’t going to train it? You aren’t doing anyone any favors, lady.

3) to the lady who was absentmindedly staggering down the middle of the trail trying to slap at a mosquito (or an invisible hamster, how the hell would I know): watch where the hell you are going, and when I holler I’m passing on the left, DON’T walk that way. I ended up passing you on your OTHER left, you moron.

4) to the four teenage morons who thought lining both sides of the bridge for photo ops would be fun: hogging half the bridge like that is the bike trail equivalent to standing in a doorway. Don’t do it. I don’t care how cute Brittany will look with the stream behind her, I and the guy coming the other way would like to be able to use the bridge at the same time, which we could do if you weren’t SO SPECIAL AND IMPORTANT.

There are lots of people on the bike trail, and there are RULES for a reason. Coming downhill around a blind corner and finding some idiot blocking the trail is not only annoying, it’s dangerous. If everyone followed the rules, we could all enjoy the trail. The Earth revolves around the sun, kids. Keep it in mind.

Let’s Talk About Misandry

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Because it really pisses me off. And frankly, there are some women who seem to think it’s perfectly okay to bash, malign, or otherwise treat men as if they are lesser beings who are only around to provide money to fund whatever said woman has in mind at the moment. I hate these women, because they make the rest of us look like greedy bitches who have nothing better to do than to sit around sipping wine and eating bonbons and bashing men.

We’ve all seen them. Hell, HGTV and its ilk show bridezillas, teen mothers, and women in general in less than a flattering light. In these shows, women are self-centered, pushy bitches who only seem to think their men are a financial means to the end of their ever-exorbitant dreams of The Perfect Wedding, The Perfect House, or The Perfect Baby. Once these women achieve their goal, the man is relegated to the job of Wallet. As in, give me money and get the hell out of my way.

How fucking sad is that?

I love men. I love one man in particular. I don’t think of him as my personal bank account, the person who should “take care of me”, or someone I can use and treat like crap, so long as he keeps giving me what I want. And quite frankly, I’m sick and tired of the bitches who treat their men this way, and I’m increasingly amazed at the number of men who will tolerate this kind of crap. But, I digress.

Women, here’s the thing: men are wonderful, amazing creatures who will die for you if you treat them with the love and respect they deserve. They don’t ask for much, but the nicer you treat them, the nicer you will be treated. That’s kind of true of anyone, but men like to be, well, MEN, and they like it if you’re nice to them and let them do some things for you. No, you cannot be a delicate flower who can’t do a damn thing for herself, but men like to be helpful – LET THEM. Don’t nag, bitch, or complain about what you want them to do. ASK. If you are reasonable, a man will respect you; if you’re being a bitch, well, you’re on your own.

Men like to have their egos stroked; who wouldn’t? If he does something nice for you, TELL HIM. Men love to help out, but you need to appreciate the effort. Say please, and thank you, and plant a big ‘ol kiss on him if he takes the trash out without you asking. I guarantee he’ll be more than willing to do it again, with that kind of encouragement. He just wants to know you appreciate him. Don’t be a bitch, ladies.

And for Chrissakes, don’t give me that “I was home with the kids all day and I’m too fucking tired to have sex with you” crap. YOUR HUSBAND COMES FIRST. Your kids are second. Most sex experts will tell you that even if you’re not in the mood, you should just go for it – the mood will come. And come on, ladies, you’ve been home with the kids, but he’s been out dealing with an asshole boss and he just wants to spend some intimate time with you. You should be flattered that he does. Take advantage of it. Trust me, everyone will be happier if you apply this logic to your life. If you don’t, well…I hope your divorce is amicable. Just sayin’.

The Post Office, or the Christmas Rant Corollary

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The only thing more annoying than Christmas shopping itself is Christmas shipping. You all know what I mean. This, my dears, is the Christmas Post Office Rules of Conduct Rant. Enjoy.

Rule #1: Complaining does NOT make the line move faster. Hello, have you BEEN to the post office in the last fifty years? Have you EVER seen anyone who works there move with any speed? If you have, I’m going to need some empirical proof, because frankly I don’t believe you. That said, bitching to anyone who will listen is not going to speed up the process. All it’s going to do is annoy the fuck out of the people who had the misfortune to stand next to you in line. Shut up, already.

Rule #2: Have your packages ready. Spend ten minutes at home addressing the box, INCLUDING zip code, and make sure you seal and label the box correctly. If this is too difficult for you, perhaps you should just go see a matinee of whatever Disney movie is playing at the moment and give up. Clearly you are an idiot.

Rule #3: Leave your kids home. Again, you know damn well you’re going to be spending an hour standing in line during the holiday season, and the thought bores YOU out of your mind. Imagine what your active three-year-old is experiencing. Spare all of us the toddler meltdown and either leave the kid home or make daddy take the package to the post office already.

Rule #4: You’ve been in line for an hour. An HOUR. By now you should have been able to read all the helpful signs posted ALL OVER THE POST OFFICE about different services and their cost. DO NOT spend twenty minutes quizzing the postal clerk as to how best ship your package as if these signs did not exist, or I cannot be responsible for what gets thrown at your head. Just sayin’.

Rule #5: DO NOT come into the post office during the holiday season with one of those orange package pickup slips and expect not to wait your turn. Huffing and sighing in line behind me is going to get you nowhere. Eventually some postal worker will have pity on you and call you all up front to get your stuff; until then, STFU and wait your turn. I’ve been standing here longer than you have, and no, the reason for your visit does not matter.

Rule #6: Don’t be an asshole to the postal workers. If you had to watch 40% of your customers agonize over what color stamps they want (seriously, people? Does it REALLY matter? A stamp is a stamp is a stamp, FFS) you’d be crazy too. They don’t call it going postal for nothing. Say please, and thank you, and make their day a little bit better. You’ve been there an hour; they’ve been there ALL DAY.

Those of us who have learned our lesson the hard way shop online. Seriously, check it out. It’s totally worth it to go click, click, insert VISA card number here, and have a gift purchased, wrapped and shipped in ten minutes. Trust me, you won’t be sorry. And you won’t have to wait in line at the post office.