Look Before You Squat: One Woman’s Advice on Toilet Seats

Ladies, look before you sit.  This seems to have reached epidemic levels.  Ladies’ lady parts are plunging themselves into toilets because they aren’t looking before plopping their naked asses on seats other people pee on.  This is something I, as a lady, find confusing.  You see, I’m quite protective of my bum and genitals, thus I look before I squat.

I always have, and thus, I have never fallen into the toilet.  I am really tired of hearing women complain about men leaving the seat up like they’re being attacked and/or disrespected.  Someone just forgot.  It’s like if someone left a seat cushion off a couch…  but you’d probably see that first, and then put it back before setting your rear end on it.  How is this a guy’s responsibility?  You should be more concerned about your own bum.  You should care more.  You shouldn’t feel so entitled.  Also, it’s just a damn toilet seat.  Just move it.  You’ll have to wash your hands either way.

Yes, I think it makes sense for the person who originally moved the seat to move it back, but who gives a crap?  (Pun SO, SO intended.)

Just look.  You’re putting your naked butt (which is really close to you genitals) on something AND YOU’RE NOT GONNA LOOK?

Just look.  What if there’s pee on the seat?  What if someone else’s pubes are on the seat?  Wouldn’t you want to check for that anyway?  Wouldn’t you also want to make sure there’s TP while you’re at it.  Just look.

Remember Jesus when you’re pooping

Evangelicals make it a point to spread the “word of God” everywhere. Including, it now seems, at a public bathroom near you.

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Taken in a public bathroom, June 19th

The last thing I want to think about when I’m doing my bathroom business is what Jesus would do. He’d probably shit just like everyone else, but I’m pretty sure it’s not necessary for me to be thinking about that while I am. I thought church was all weird about bathroom stuff anyhow; at the very least it’s weird about bathroom-related anatomy. So why put pamphlets–and not even one, but FOUR–on the TP dispenser? C’mon! Don’t make it so easy for me to make jokes about wiping my ass with your nonsense. And furthermore, you’re accosting me with Bible-thumping in the most private of places. But I guess Evangelicals in general have a demonstrated interest in ladyparts these days (and about our discussion of them), so why not the ladies’ room, right? REALLY. Give a sister a break.

When did the grocery store become so weird?

I’m not sure when it happened, but at some point the grocery store became a magnet for weirdos and really strange behavior. In high school, I worked in a small grocery store, so I knew that weirdos, like everyone else, go to the grocery store. But I also thought that it was only because I was working eight hour shifts four days a week that I happened to see a few of them every week. And granted, we had our resident weirdos. But as a customer, I used to go to the grocery store pretty much without incident. The past few weeks have changed that.

Why is a small child pop-, lock-, and dropping-it on my cart?

I turned away only for one, brief moment. ONE MOMENT, and there’s a small child booty dancing in the one-foot space between my cart and the shelf of cookies. WHAT ARE YOU DOING? You’re six years old, and you’re acting like this is the club. It’s the cookie aisle for crying out loud! That’s not a shelf of liquor at a bar, it’s a stack of Keeblers. AND YOU’RE SIX. What is going on?!?

Since when is ass crack an acceptable fashion statement?

That’s called plumber’s crack for a reason. Not appealing. Especially when you’re a woman in her late twenties behind me in the check-out line. The worst part was that this lady was wearing a belt with her jeans, which means that she has purposely slung them so low that her butt is peeking out of the back, not just that her pants slid down while she was walking around–still not acceptable, but, you know, perhaps slightly more understandable?

I don’t need to hear your life stories while you scan my food.

When I was a cashier, I smiled, I asked people how their day was going, and I’d sometimes comment on the weather. There are acceptable topics of conversation between customer and cashier. Talking about your lunatic brother-in-law or your aunt who just got brain surgery don’t fall into that “acceptable” category. It’s especially unacceptable when you expect the customer to share some highly personal information with you as a result of your own over-sharing, and then to get irritated when they act uncomfortable or simply refuse to share similar information. Come off it, ya weirdo.

You’re a friggin’ grocery store; how can you not have heavy whipping cream?

You call yourselves a grocery store? You, sirs and madams, have utterly failed.

Why does everyone in the parking lot act like a jackass?

When I have my blinker on, that means I’m taking the space. It doesn’t mean you’re entitled to it after you see I have my blinker on because you’re in the “lane” closer to it. On another note, if I make a move you don’t like, give me the finger, roll down your window and yell an obscenity at me, but don’t purposefully park behind my car and wait for me to get out so you can fight me, and, when I don’t get out fast enough, slowly circle the parking lot as you lie in wait for me. You creep! That’s stalking!

 

I mourn the loss of days when I could go to the grocery store without being accosted by weirdness and weirdos.

You’re Not Funny, You’re Offensive

There are many people who are easily offended. Their comedy sensibilities are seriously lacking, and instead of seeing the funny element of a joke, they concentrate on the stereotype being presented, and thus categorize the joke as “offensive.” This is not entirely accurate. However, all joking aside (I couldn’t resist the pun), there are some “jokes” that aren’t jokes–they’re just offensive statements.

I’m all about what someone I know once called “equal opportunity offenders.” Think Mel Brooks, Chris Rock, Kat Williams, Dave Chappelle. The greats tend to fall into this category. Equal Opportunity Offenders make jokes about every stereotype in the book; they can laugh at other people and at themselves. They don’t make these jokes to alienate, discriminate, devalue, or otherwise hate on individuals or groups of people. They make fun of everybody for the things we don’t necessarily choose, and some of the things we do: our race, our geographic location, our nationality, our religion, our sexual preferences, our genders, etc. But they do this as a method of moving the conversation toward larger issues, and the humor comes from the stereotype. We don’t laugh because we actually think all such-and-such people do/are this, but because its a stereotype of what that group is or does. Sometimes it’s true, but it’s not meant to be the kind of statement that narrows the possibilities of individuals.

However, there is another category of ‘comedian’–if one would deign to call them such–that doesn’t fall into these bounds. Let me explain with a short anecdote.

I was riding in a car with a large group of people when a country song I was unfamiliar with came on the radio. I found it a little distasteful (it was about “titties and beer”), but not offensive. I could chuckle at it. Yet, one line deeply disturbed me, and as everyone around me laughed it up, I sat stone faced: “Thank God I ain’t queer.” What?! That’s not funny. That’s not saying, ‘Hey, Gay men are like this and Women are like this, yuck yuck ha ha.’ That’s just a mean-spirited cut against anyone who categorizes themselves as queer. It’s a stupid and ignorant statement, not a funny one.

Another example: using language that is racist, unless you’re reclaiming it, is not funny. Ever. Black people can say the N-word in a comedic setting because it’s theirs to reclaim and refashion in meaning. Sorry, white people, it’s not yours in any manner except the racist one. So don’t use it in your comedy. Calling someone a nasty name based on their race or ethnicity often results in a few nervous chuckles, but it’s not funny; it’s racist. Same thing goes for any other nasty words directed towards women, gay people, and other minority groups. It’s not funny when you call someone a bitch or a fish wife or a fairy or a fag. It’s just not.

Being nasty toward people for things they don’t choose isn’t funny. It’s mean, nasty, and often falls into the category of one of the -isms (racism, sexism, ethnocentrism, etc.). Instead, why not focus on the little idiosyncrasies that make people funny in general. And if you’re gonna pick on one group, be prepared to pick on them all, including your own.

How to Tell Your Friend Her Significant Other Is Ugly

We all have a friend who is dating someone downright ugly. Every time you see them together, you cringe inwardly, and try to put the most enthusiastic smile possible on your face so they’re none-the-wiser. This happens. It’s not unusual. However, with the pervasiveness of social media, and some people’s tendency to post a MILLION pictures of themselves and their creepy-looking significant other, now you get to have a bird’s eye view of their makeout sessions and a little bit of their ugly permeating every part of your internet experience!

Okay, so I’m overdoing this a bit. But really, how do you tell your friend her boyfriend looks like a turtle that never closes its mouth?

First things first: emphasize her good looks. Your friend is pretty good looking. Tell her so. Maybe she’s dating turtle-man because she thinks she can’t do any better, so building her confidence will help a lot. However, you also run the risk of her sudden boost of confidence resulting in an even further overload of awful girl-on-turtle-action photos for you and everyone else she’s friends with. Beware.

Complain bitterly about hot girl/ugly dude combos on tv. There are plenty examples of this. My all-time favorite was King of Queens. Sorry, but Kevin James is not attractive, and his TV wife, Leah Remini, was smokin’ hot.

Even if your friend sticks up for James, insisting he’s “okay looking” or “at least he’s funny,” nip that shit in the bud. Stick to your guns; remember, this isn’t about Kevin James. It’s about turtle-man. Emphasize that it’s sexist and unfair that Leah Remini is so skinny, cute, and fashionable, while her husband is a tubby, sloppy, good-for-nothing. If she persists in her love for Kevin James, bring out the big guns. This is the guy that became “Paul Blart, Mall Cop.” Conversation over–you, 1; friend, 0.

If she’s worried about other girls coveting her man, make sure you chime in with, “I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” Explain that he’s “different” from what most girls want. Explain that you don’t think a lot of girls would be attracted to “his type.”

When prompted with “Don’t we/Doesn’t he look cute/great/good/wonderful/whatever else” smile and tell her one of two things: You look great!” or “That’s a great shirt… did you give it to him?” Avoid complimenting him at all costs. She will try to make you. DON’T SUCCUMB!

Finally, think about why it matters that this dude is so ugly. Is it because he’s just unfortunate looking, or is there something worse going on? Is he ugly and a douchebag? Is he incredibly annoying? Is he a free-loader? Chances are that, unless you’re a miserable human being, you don’t dislike your friend’s latest flame just because he wound up with the ugly gene. You want what’s best for your friend, and an ugly jerkoff is possibly worse than just a jerkoff. So help her build her self-confidence, and when she comes crying to you about the new awful thing her boyfriend did, don’t hesitate to call her out: she deserves better.

Dumb Things I Received Today

So, I’ve written a post on dumb things I’ve heard, but this needs to be categorized as “Dumb Thing I Read Today” or “Dumb Things I Received Today.”

Why is a twelve year old sending me a friend request wondering if I am some person from some virtual park in some stupid Facebook game about contented domestic animals? This causes me to be concerned about the following:

1. Who has my name and is lurking around some site called Happy Pets? This is really bad for my image. Not to mention creepy.

2. Why is this little girl trying to friend random people on the intarwebz? Where are her parents? Additionally, speaking of absent parents and bad decisions, why does she have all kinds of fucked up face piercings and looks to be twelve? I could go on…

3. No, strange child, I am not the person from the park in happy pets. I’m the person who doesn’t want to receive stupid fucking friend requests from strangers, especially whiny twelve year old emo girls, on my cell phone when I’m trying to work.

WTF, ear cuffs?

This is an incredibly stupid product. I give you, reader, the “ear cuff.” What is up with this? It’s like a piercing, but it’s not. It’s just awkward and kinda ugly. Especially when it’s a skull next to the kind of earrings that suburban moms wear.

Why? Why not just pierce it like a normal person? There is nothing cool about this weirdness!

And if that wasn’t bad enough, how about an Avatar wannabe… blue and ear-cuffed:

THIS IS NOT PANDORA! DITCH THE EAR CUFF!

Ten Things I Hate About Starbucks

I would like to warn you that I have taken some liberties with the exact location of all of these occurances, but I hope you will forgive me. I’ve combined two coffee house experiences of my day into one.

 

1. Why is there a drink called “Grande Skinny Vanilla Latte?” THIS MAKES SO EFFING SENSE!!! Can you just stop with the alternate languages? The small is not tall, the medium is not grande, it’s fucking medium, and the venti is the only one that kind of makes sense but still–twenty? Twenty what? Twenty hairy old men in speedos on the corner? WHAT??

 

2. Yes, you see me. I’m alone. I am at a two person table. Yes. I am reading. NO, that’s not an invitation to come join me. Just, seriously, if you’re gonna do that at least ask Don’t just sit down! Maybe I’m not anti-social and was waiting for someone, you dick head!

 

3. If you skip my advice in #2, then at least do me a favor and don’t put your head down on the table after you’ve invaded my bubble and SLEEP. For the love of god. How rude ARE you? Just… really?

 

4. You’re way too excited about your drink. If the Starbucks baristas know you by name, and you go up to the counter to order “the usual,” you’re probably spending way too many dollars and empty calories on coffee-like drinks. Probably not something you need to be proud of. Additionally, if you’re this fucking happy on a Wednesday morning at 8:30, why are you even getting coffee you crazy morning person?!??

 

5. Stop with the phone. Really, I don’t want to listen to you make thirty phone calls while I’m trying to mind my own business and read. You are so distracting. Don’t you have a home? Or an office? Or better yet, a home office that you can make business calls from? Not a fucking cafe in a university student union?

 

6. Why, Barista, do you look at me like I have skinned a live goat in front of you when I order? I asked for a coffee and a salad at 2:30 in the afternoon. Is that a problem, or is the problem with your fugly face?

 

7. I overhear the dumbest shit in coffee shops. Seriously. Don’t believe me? How about this one: “Yeah I bought them at CVS, and they totally woke me up but they don’t have caffeine in them.” “How do you know?” “Well, like it wasn’t on the ingredients list…” Or try: “Oh my god, yeah, like, the Old Testament is bullshit. I mean the only people who believe that are Catholics and Jew people [I did not make this up. Not “jews” but “jew people.”] think that that shit actually happened. I mean not all of them do but then they aren’t really Catholics and Jews.” (No, moron, Catholics don’t read the Bible literally. And many sects of Judaism don’t, either. Before you go bashing people’s faith, maybe you should actually understand the tenets of their belief system.) This was followed later by a conversation about piercings and how sometimes they smell bad, like “rotting flesh.” WHAT THE FUCK, I AM TRYING TO EAT AT THE TABLE NEXT TO YOU. SHUT UP!!!!

 

8. No, I’m not going to tell you my name. Don’t write it on the cup. I don’t need to be named, I just need you to call out my drink. I’m smart enough to realize that if I just ordered and there’s three people waiting in line to pick up drinks, the next drink up probably isn’t mine. C’mon.

 

9. Why do all of your baked goods cost like $7? I hope you make everything with the finest, freshest ingredients known to man. At least, I hope your muffins taste better than your shitty house blend.

 

10. Number ten isn’t really a reason to hate Starbucks. I just really want to know, who’s the chick on the logo? And what’s wrong with her arms?

If you actually are interested in the logo, this website gives a pretty good explanation of how it got to be what it is.

I AM AMERICA. ARE YOU?

I’m gonna make this short and sweet.

A. This song is awful. Formally AND for its shitty content. (80s dance party, anyone?)

B. The Tea Partiers have long needed to stop being so self-righteous.

C. The Tea Party and Occupy Wall Street are the same bullshit. They’re both movements who have made it very clear what they’re against and have offered no possible solutions to the problems they have identified other than ones that revolve around absence (e.g. stop government spending or stop giving tax cuts to corporations and millionaires). Neither of these things are helpful.

D. This song is so bullshit.

Reply (NOT) All

Don’t do it. You want off the listserv? Don’t you dare. I see you, about to push that reply all button. If you reply all and snottily ask to be taken off the list, instead of replying to the sender, I will find you. I will track you down with 400 of my friends and we will all slap you. Why? Because that’s how many people you just sent your request to, stupid. And 399 of them can’t do anything to help you. They are just annoyed and their inboxes flooded with your bullshit.

If you’re always so careless with your replies to emails, who knows what could happen? So do me and the rest of the listserv a favor, and think before you reply all. Otherwise, this could be you: