Thursday, September 23, 2010

You Might Be An Asshole...

*This blog is rated R for strong language*

It’s no secret that I can have quite the potty mouth…and that I use the word asshole more than my mother'd like. In a moment of boredom I have come up with a list of situations in which you (or someone you know) might be playing the role of an asshole. A la Jeff Foxworthy’s You might be a Redneck.., I present you:

You might be an asshole…

If you jaywalk…slowly…you might be an asshole.

If you are part of a love triangle (either torn between two people or trying to break two people apart)…you might be an asshole.

If you relate/look up to the assholey characters in books/movies/tvshows...you might be an asshole.

If you baked cookies and didn't share any...you might be a fat asshole.

If you changed the channel while one of the Geico funny commercials was on...you might be an asshole.

If you are hogging up all the washers/dryers at the laundry mat because you are apparently doing laundry for the entire wardrobe of 12 people...you might be an asshole.

If you ask stupid questions with already answers in them...you might be a stupid asshole.

If you don't find It's Always Sunny in Philadephia to be the best and most hilarious show ever...you might be an asshole.

If the end/cancellation of a tv show saddens and upsets you more than the end/loss of a friendship/relationship….you might be an asshole.

If you want to make a left turn where there is no left turn lane on a busy street…you might be an asshole.

If you keep your obnoxiously loud dog right outside your neighbor’s bedroom window…you might be an asshole.

If you take too long at the ATM because you have multiple cards…you might be an asshole.

If at the gas station, you park in a way that blocks a free pump for someone else…you might be an asshole.

If you don’t use your turning/merging signals…you might be an asshole.

If you do nothing but complain on your facebook/twitter statuses…you might be an asshole.

If you feel that having listened to the song Hotel California (aka my arch nemesis) has changed your life…you might be an asshole.

If you “celebrate” your sport teams’ victories by trashing/burning/vandalizing places…you might be an asshole.

If you point out other assholes…you might be an asshole.

Monday, September 20, 2010

PMSing pretty much sucks.

There is nothing worse in the world than PMSing. Ok maybe being accused of a crime you didn’t commit and sent to prison for life is pretty bad...or losing your job and home and pretty much having to live in the streets is pretty bad too...or learning that one of your favorite shows has been put on hiatus and will resume as a mid season show blows too. But PMSing is right on that list of sucky blowy things. (Ha sucky blowy is so wrong. Im glad my mom doesn’t read this). Guys can say all they want about how hard it is for them to have to deal with us gals while we are going through it, but they aren’t actually going through it. We are. It sucks major gigantic balls! Let me count the ways... or just a few anyway...

Bloating - Ugh. As if we aren’t already struggling with our weight issues on a daily basis. Trying to fit into newly washed and dried shrunk jeans is a mission impossible on these days.

Fatigue- It’s not like we can get a vacation three or four days out of the month to ride out the feeling of just wanting to be in bed by just being in bed. No. We still have shit load of things that need to get done right. Because let’s face it, who else does them better? Problem is we just don’t fucking feel like it. Yawwwwn!

Tension and Irritability/Anger- This is perhaps the one most noticeable to others. Yes, these feelings get heightened and exaggerated during this time. To be clear, it doesn’t always mean that all and even every little thing annoys us and gets us going, it just means we can’t really hide being pissed and annoyed that well during this time. Sowwy.

Food Craving- This only makes the bloating worse...

Depression- Ugh. Even tv commercials make us cry.

But perhaps the most fun, and my most favorite of them all (please note the sarcasm) is

Cramping- Worst. Pain. Evvvvvver!

No man can comment on this because they have no idea what it feels like. Knowing that child birth feels a hundred times infinity worse makes me not want to have kids. And really, the women who have, should be somehow rewarded, knighted, given a medal of honor for each kid, given the key to the city, fuck, even sainted. Am I exaggerating the pain? No. Cramping really, really, really, really, really, really, fucking hurts. Ask any woman. They will agree. It’s the worst pain ever....well ok, pushing a baby through your bajingo hurts more, or losing a loved one, or when your favorite tv show gets cancelled...but cramps are right up there with those things. It really isn’t like cramping muscles after a 5 mile jog. We can’t just walk it off. Truth is I am not so sure I can describe it well enough for any dude who wonders what it feels like, or thinks we are being big babies over the pain (oh really? Big babies, you jerk? Most of you can’t even tell when we are dying of cramps. We keep it a secret, and still kick butt at work/home/everywhere). There isn’t really like an equivalent type pain for males. Uh, I don’t have balls, per say, but I am pretty fucking sure that menstrual cramps are worse than getting your balls kicked. For one, getting kicked in the balls doesn’t happen once ever month. Though come to think of it, it ought to. And for some dudes, twice.

In conclusion, being a female is way way way sucky when that time of the month comes. For all those things I mentioned, and oh of course, the spewing of the blood (yes, spewing), whilst trying not to leak any and avoid ruining a good pair of VC’s undies, or pants, or skirt, or dress, or the day of an innocent bystander.
I tell ya, sometimes, I even look forward to menopause. Then I remember all the shitty things we have to go through with that too. Uggggh.

That is all.

P.S. Whenever a woman is being right and calling you on your bullshit, she isn’t always PMSing.

P.P.S. I am not PMSing right now.

P.P.P.S. I think. Shit where’s my calendar?