Unacceptable Behavior (Behaviour, in this case)

Racism is always unacceptable.  Pretty much everything about this crazy, white, and (to her insistence) British lady is unacceptable.  Shall we ban together in hating her?

Fair warning, there is a lot of foul language and this video is VERY offensive.

Ultimately, I really feel bad for her son.  One way to deal with racism is to shame all the racists away so they can’t go on living their lives like this.  They all deserve to be shamed.

The Horror of Shopping for Boots

Every lady loves a nice pair of knee-high boots.  They are sexy, practical, and all-around awesome.  Women love shoes largely because (as I heard once on TLC’s “What Not To Wear”) you’re never too fat for shoes.

Well, unless you (like me) have giant calves.

My calves are so big, I can’t wear most boots.  This means, my weirdly, inexplicably, doubly-muscly calves are too fat for certain shoes.  That’s not a great feeling.  In fact, going to a store and trying on boots is embarrassing, frustrating, and occasionally painful.  I have zippered my skin and jeans.  I have gotten my leg stuck in a pair of boots so bad I had to have help to pull them off.  Today, a little girl actually laughed me and giant calves.  This is why I am ranting to the shoe and boot industry today – Some women have big calves, and we want to wear boots too.  Dammit.

The picture below describes my life, and it also comes from a blog I found while searching for images of big calves vs. boots.  Check out her blog – CLICK HERE!

I don’t know why my calves are so big, but I do know that I’m not alone.  Lots of ladies have meaty calves; where’s the love, shoe industry?  Where’s the love?

I just want to be able to go to the mall, walk into a store, and find at least one pair of boots that will actually fit over my weirdly muscular calves.  I don’t know why they’re so big, they just are.  Maybe I walk in a strange manner that requires more calf-action than the normal woman?  Maybe I knead the mattress with my feet when I sleep?  Maybe it’s genetic?  I don’t know.  I know that I want boots.  I’ll pay for them.  I just want someone to sell them.  I don’t think I should have to go to 15 stores to find even one pair that fits me.  Some women are fat, and have fat legs.  Some women aren’t fat, but have big legs.  Some women have crazy cankles.  Some women might just want a little more breathing room.

Me, I’m not a fat person; I’m just a person with giant calves who would like to purchase some boots.

Sell me some boots.

Black Friday, or National Asshole Day

Black Friday is a crazy American tradition that pushes the limits of people’s willingness to compromise their morals, pride, and safety in order to save some major bank on things like tvs, phones, boots, and trendy toys.  Because so many Americans go balls-to-the-wall crazy on Black Friday, my sister and I have dubbed it, “National Asshole Day,” instead.

I know it’s a bit crass, but it’s just a description of the day.  I saw a news story about some crazy bitch who pepper-sprayed other shoppers so she could get a flat-screen.  SHE PEPPER-SPRAYED THEM… FOR A DAMN TV.  She’s an asshole.

Some off-duty police officer also pepper-sprayed some shoppers who were being “rowdy.”  He’s an asshole.

The 13-year-old who tried to body check me in Victoria’s Secret?  She, obviously, should not have been in that store.  She clearly didn’t know who she was dealing with.  The scoffed at me, probably a little jealous of my giant bras, though they are really a terrifying pre-cursor to late-onset adult scoliosis…  She should not have assumed I would, or could immediately make room for her in the tiny aisle in between tiny underpants and tiny sequined see-thru items.  She should not have assumed that I was a mirage.  She should not have run into me because that resulted in her bouncing off of me and into the racks of rack-holders.  I couldn’t help but laugh.  Yet, she was the assshole.

Almost everyone who was driving – assholes.

Most people who waited for 12 or more hours were probably turned into assholes from exhaustion, dehydration, hunger, stress, and rage.

Anyone elbowing a grandma in order to get a cell phone.  You guys are assholes.

Anyone who made a child join them or hold their place in line (I saw this happen on WEDNESDAY because some asshole was already camped out at Best Buy) is a MAJOR ASSHOLE.

Happy National Asshole Day!

Top 15 Risks of Living Alone

Living alone will make you crazy; at the least, it will exaggerate whatever craziness you already possessed.  There is no one around to shame you into acting like a normal person.  There is no one to make you self-conscious about your food, dress, dancing, etc.  You can let it all hang out, and so you do.  As recently pointed out in a dear friend’s facebook status (she shall remain nameless, but I’ll just say she’s a Yooper), sometimes living alone inspires some fairly weird habits, idiosyncrasies, and general standards of living.

Here are the Top 15 Risks of Living Alone:

  1. If it’s yellow, it will mellow.
  2. Naked Monday.  Naked Tuesday.  Naked Wednesday.  Naked Thursday.  Naked Friday.  Naked Saturday.  Naked Sunday.  Naked…  sometimes being naked all the time is risky.  Sometimes you’re blinds might be left up.  Someday you might even make eye contact with the FedEx delivery guy while you’re dancing naked in your living room.
  3. Because you never need to create private spaces, you get in the habit of keeping doors open.  This makes hosting a little more difficult.  For some reason, people don’t like to see you pee.
  4. There is no one else’s schedule to think about, so you may end up staying awake until 3:00 A.M. and sleeping until… well, all day.  No one is moving about, or trying to sleep, so things get weird.
  5. No one sees you eat, and so you are not judged, or self-conscious about your decisions.  This means dinner might consist of only brussel sprouts, or perhaps only popcorn.  Sometimes, dinner also means half a tub of ice cream.  Like I said, things get weird.
  6. Talking to yourself when no one else can see you seems fine, but then you leave your apartment…
  7. A casual drink when you come home from work is still drinking alone, and that feels sad.
  8. “Clean” becomes whatever level of messy you can handle.  Underwear will roam freely.  Dishes will accumulate.  Beds will remain unmade.
  9. You have to defeat all the spiders.  Victory will sometimes escape you.
  10. You have to pay for everything.  Everything.
  11. Each bump in the night is inevitably a murderer, or a burglar, or goatman, or man-bear-pig, or your old stalker, etc.
  12. There is no one to shame you about all the singing, so the singing never ends.
  13. When you get sick, you’re on your own.  Buy a LifeAlert NOW.
  14. Your dancing will not improve.
  15. No one is there to monitor your farting… This can lead to complications.

You’re Trying Too Hard (and by that I mean that I can see your lady-bits).

How often has this happened to you?  You are at a bar, drinking and being merry, when a girl, or a giant group of girls walk(s) by and then, YOU SEE HER CHATCH. There are always girls at any given bar who wear skirts so short you can see their business.  These girls dance around, usually on a stage of some kind, and flail their exposed tacos all about for the other party-goers to see.  I think this is pretty rude, delusional, and disturbing.  People don’t like looking at other people’s genitals in public.  No, thank you.  NO.

Keep your babies out of the bar.

Keep your baby-maker out of sight at the bar too.

This is borderline illegal.

If a dude had his weiner out at a bar, you would arrest him.  I don’t want to see a chick’s butt or front-butt either.  It’s gross.  It’s creepy.  It’s genitalia.

Just because you want to look sexy and get noticed while out on the town with your “girls,” does not mean you have the right to show me your genitals.  I don’t want to see your crotch.  In fact, I bet most dudes aren’t really excited about seeing your crotch on the dance floor.  Most dudes would be fine with you wearing pants and/or a longer skirt while you simply promise them future contact with your lady-bits.  No one needs to see your bits whilst in public.

I just don’t want to see this.  I don’t want to be involved in your sex life.  I don’t want to be forced into seeing what you use in your sex life.  Settle the hell down.  Skirts should be long enough to cover your butt cheeks, even your under-butt-crease.  Skirts should also cover your frontal zones of privacy.  No one but your private sexual partner should be exposed to your exposed frontal zones of privacy.

Fishnets, and Other Dress Code Crimes

There are a lot of things you shouldn’t wear to work.  There are a lot of things I wouldn’t wear to work.  For example, I would not wear a mini-skirt to work.  I would not wear a wind suit to work (though, I want to do so).  I would not wear a costume, a meat-dress, a sweatsuit, a hoodie, anything that could be mistaken for yoga pants, or a red suit (they’re creepy).  There are standards for work attire, people!

Since I work in a research facility for a major university, we have a number of new students and young professionals joining the staff, and running around in general everyday.  Most of the time, this just means that people assume they (well, we) are work study students who don’t really need to be professional.  Most of the time, the other women/girls who are my age-ish in the building dress like me.  They where normal dress pants, blouses, sweaters, knee-length skirts, etc.  That’s all fine and good.

However, our office has recently been stormed by chicks who dress so inappropriately, it upsets.  I found myself gaping at a girl in the hall today who was wearing a VERY tight mini-skirt, with a low-cut tank top, and FISHNET STOCKINGS?!


There are limits.  I understand wearing a skirt that is a little too short; you didn’t mean to, and you’ll learn over time.  I understand a low-cut top here and there.  But both of those AND fishnets?  There is no excuse for this.  I stared at this chick for a while, but she didn’t seem phased by my shock, or anyone else’s.  I just can’t handle this.  I hope her supervisor said something.

It’s not that hard to dress for work.  The office isn’t a bar, or a street corner.  The office isn’t a place to find dudes.  Are you going out after this?  Do you just feel REALLY confident when you wear fishnets?  Was it a dare?  Are you an idiot?

What’s happening?


What? Why? Live Feed from the “Twilight Premier”

I went to Yahoo.com to check my email – my boss chose the site, don’t judge me.  The first story on the Yahoo! homepage?  A live feed is available from the new “Twilight” movie’s premiere.  This just means you can watch a bunch of famous, and not-so-famous people give incredibly brief interviews about a terrible movie.  Come on.  You don’t need to see the stars of this movie walk down a red carpet in fancy clothes?  How does that add to your experience?

Evidence here: Live! Red Carpet Coverage of “Breaking Dawn”

Why are people so obsessed with this?  These books don’t have good stories.  The main character is a girl who decides to get married straight out of high school, does not even consider going to college, and she’s completely dependent on this dude… WHO IS A VAMPIRE.

It hurts my soul.

Oh, it hurts my soul.

Wait, do Twilight vampires have souls?

Dumb Things I’ve Seen on the Bus Reprise

I’ve seen and heard a lot of dumb things on the bus. I don’t know what it is about being among strangers on a moving vehicle that makes people want to act inappropriately, but there’s definitely something going on.

Today, I saw a woman CLIPPING HER FINGERNAILS on the bus. Yes. You know, what you usually do over the trash can. Or a toilet. ALONE.

Image Courtesy of TrainPigs.Wordpress.Com

I even get grossed out when my boyfriend clips his nails in front of me. There’s something about clipped nails that is nasty (and I hear they’re one of the most germ-friendly places on your body, too, by the way) and it is definitely not something I’d do in front of anyone, let alone on a bus full of strangers. Not only is it super gross to hear your fingernails snapping off but I really don’t want to be the person who sits down after you in a pile of “debris.”

For anyone who has the urge to cut their fingernails in public, consider this a friendly piece of advice: DO IT AT HOME. IN YOUR BATHROOM. ALONE.


For more on gross public transportation behavior, visit Train Pigs.