This blog is not safe for work or for people who feel strongly about enabling bullshit. You've been warned...
Forgive me, but I love pissed off people and their comments on the Internet. Here is a fantasy of mine...Mainsite posts a nipple or absurdly elite man bulge. Pop some corn, kids! I could read this verbal diarrhea all night. Actually, I don't want any forgiveness for that-I like what I like and I like mental junk food.
It's because people are so damn sensitive. I thought this shirt was funny.
But then I'm sure there is some uptight group out there with a website called Curing, Understanding and Nurturing Tourettes Sufferers.org and they have some sort of web petition against the people who sell it. Yes, I just insulted people with tourettes a second time with my fictitious website name.
Offended yet? I take comments, too. And on a side note, I can pretty much guarantee that I do NOT have tourettes, but if I did, that shirt would be in my wardrobe.
I recently read this blog entry and loved it. I also ate up the comments like they were crispy bacon.
Do I like to stir the poop pot? No. This is the Internet! There are too many nut jobs out there who are up to their elbows in it. I can just sit back and watch my 'stories' with minimal effort. And certain subjects really get people going. Like diseases that are really social disorders or lack of discipline-that one pisses me off. Cancer is a terrible disease. Porn enthusiasts are not diseased addicts who need your sympathy. They are horny people with mad computer skills. Then, we have sex, politics and religion. Kids, abuse and money. That's the big 7.
So, I'll make one big comment here because the reality is I will either "Like" or "Share" an article or post. And to that, I will add one sentence. Maybe add a happy face, as my communicating skills can often mimic a 15 year old girl.
So here we go-
I think if your kid is obese, it is YOUR stinking fault. Not DNA. Not bad genes. Not society and not the school cafeteria. You. Man or Mom the fuck up and accept that. You buy the food. You provide food in your home. You give your kid money. You pack the lunches and you should have the stones to say "No." to craptacular choices that your kid might make in a restaurant. Let me repeat that. "No." It's a fucking kid. You are in charge. Period. If you are afraid your kid will end up in counseling or hate you because you didn't let him have a Large Blizzard instead of a small one, you've dropped the ball. I mean, really. You are fucked already. It's OK if they hate you every once in a while. Kids hate people for petty reasons and get over it quick. Why? They are kids. Let me repeat the word. "No." No explanation necessary. Going out to eat is a treat at my house. That is when I let my kid eat what she wants. Otherwise, her lunches and meals are planned by me or my husband. Or, we let her choose from whatever we have in the house. They are portion appropriate and stuff she loves. We always end up throwing away her holiday candy because it grows old and nasty. Except for the peanut butter cups. We steal those when she is sleeping because they are freaking delicious. But, it is in her room and she can hoard it or eat it or make crafts out of it whenever she wants. We don't dip it in metaphorical gold and hold it over her head like a damn dog treat. It's her candy. She just doesn't give a big hoot about it, one way or another. She also hates soda. I don't buy it and she never developed a taste for it. You develop a taste and a sense for healthy foods and portions just like you can develop a taste for fatty crap. It's up to us. There it is. Black and white. You don't have a disease or a mental disorder. Your kid does not have a disease. You just don't have a spine. And, you are afraid of a 5 year old. Grow up Meow, say you were wrong and fix it. If you don't agree with me, then enjoy your front row seat for Type 2 diabetes.
"I don't have the time or money to exercise."
Last time you checked, was there a door in the room you are sitting in? Walk out the door. A little farther. A little farther. You can run thru that door and keep going. Or lunge. If there is no door-seriously, where are you?-do sit-ups. Drink some water after that. It is also free and is the best sports drink out there. "But, I don't like the taste of water." It has no taste. It's water, you knob.
Or, do these. They are free. They are called burpees. I hate them. I still do them. You don't need to use the rings. Try 20 for time. Then, add more and beat your time. Work up to 100. Then, beat your time again. They suck. Embrace the suck.
Use the DVR-I know you made room in your budget for satellite TV- and shoot your ass into the world. There are like three women in this world who are admired for their big booty. So unless you are J Lo, Kim Kardashian or can squat a ton of weight, your ass is just fat. Sorry. Borrow a jogging stroller from a friend. Exercise during your lunch break. Use the Internet-I know you have access to that. Go to http://www.crossfit.com/ It is free. Lose and hour of sleep (gasp.) and wake up early to exercise. Or, you know, die early. Whatever. I don't care. I just pr'd my back squat, eat bacon almost daily and my cholesterol is pristine.
Other rules of thumb on the hot topics listed above: Don't have sex, sext or take sexual photos and videos with anyone but your partner. Don't leave them lying around, amateur porn star. If you are famous-just don't. Seriously. I'm going to see it someday. And, knowing your real "O" face ruins the movie for me. Ditto if you are thinking of ever running for office. Please spare me from having Matt Lauer tell me that you 'did' a campaign volunteer in a Church's Chicken parking lot.
And, religion. Stop telling others that they are going to hell or that their beliefs are wrong in the eyes of God and others. Not your call. If God wanted referees, then the Pope would be wearing stripes.
And keep those comments coming!
This video was sent to me. I thought it was funny.
