Friday, May 09, 2014

Splurging on Dinner Out with YOUR FUCKING BABY

Dear assholes who take your fucking babies to fancy restaurants: PAY FOR EVERYBODY'S MEAL.

When you bring your crying infant or noisy child to an expensive restaurant YOU ARE EFFECTIVELY RUINING PEOPLE'S NIGHT OUT. One they may have saved for a month for. That they are not paying $17-$50 a plate to eat accompanied by the sound of you trying to baby-talk your child out of screaming, or train them how to sit in a high chair ("sit your bottom down :: sit your BOTTOM down :: SIT your bottom down :: SIT your BOTTOM down! :: SIT YOUR BOTTOM DOWN!") or endure the drama of your precious toddler choking while you throw it over your knee and whack it repeatedly in the spleen.

What kind of a fucking asshole are you? You're a shitty self-centered fuckwad with too much money. I'd be happy to relieve you of all of it minus cab fare to get you the fuck home and away from everybody's else's grown-up dinner.

There is a difference between The Old Spaghetti Factory or a family diner and a pricey restaurant with walls lined with drugs (aka alcohol). Your little fucking child does not belong there. If the average price of an entree is over $15, YOUR BABY SHOULDN'T BE THERE. *****ASSHOLES*****

This is for you, mouthbreathers at The _____ Grill on this Friday in Seattle tonight. I don't know if it was the parents' choice, or the grandparents perhaps insisting NO IT WILL BE *FINE* KIDS! OUR TREAT!! LITTLE FUSSY HONEYPANTS WILL BE JUST FINE THERE!!

Actually I really blame restaurants for this. You have no fucking business allowing barefoot people, dogs, folks with their dicks hanging out of their pants or wee ones into a restaurant where you charge those kinds of prices. Your food is delicious and worth it, but you should comp everyone or give the whole house deep discounts if you compromise the entire dining experience by letting morons in with their noisy little creatures.

Now that I think about it, I would MUCH rather sit next to a barefoot dog with its dick hanging out of its pants in a nice restaurant than a baby, okay?


Tuesday, January 14, 2014

No. You DO NOT actually REALLY REALLY LOVE Books

I just saw this stupid fucking headline and clicked on it:

11 Incredible Bookcases For People Who Really, Really Love Their Books

It's stupid as fuck, like every "incredible" list of bullshit Huffpo & other shitty "news" & hack click-monkey page-view-driven sites concoct is. Let me explain three reasons why:
  • *People who really love books don't fucking waste space arranging them into minimalist flower and treble clef arrangements- they have entirely too many books for that kind of pinteresting bullshit
  • *People who really love books PUT THEM IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER, or have another system which works best when not forcing the books they love into ridiculously ornate geometric patterns on little tiny stupid shelves
  • *People who really love books usually know better than to write shit like REALLY, REALLY!!

But just for the record, I really love the reclaimed ladder the best. Though it's totally annoyingly impractical because the "shelf" isn't deep enough to line up the DIFFERENTLY-SIZED books (nobody who loves books has books that are all the same size) so that their spines are smoothly faced; you can't do that when the books need to touch the wall in order to rest normally rather than balancing just on the ladder. Also: tiny books won't work on that.

So yeah. Totally fucking STUPID. If I see this in your house, I will know you DO NOT, in fact, LOVE BOOKS. Not yours, not anybody's. Fuck off.

Try Saying Thank You, You Self-Absorbed Entitled Fucking Bitch

I just held the door open for a lady walking out of a store carrying a big box.

I did not hold the door open IN ORDER TO receive praise, I did it because it's the nice and right thing to do when someone has their hands full.

She acted like I wasn't even there. No eye contact, like I was put on earth simply to pave her way towards the smooth and easy life she deserves.

Even worse, she had two little girls following her so was teaching them how to be inconsiderate pieces of shit.

I know she is endowed with the gift of speech because I heard her finish a sentence to someone else. And it wasn't like her kids were talking a lot to her (they weren't talking at all) or she was multitasking or carrying on conversations with other people - she wasn't. There was plenty of time and opportunity and silence to fucking say THANK YOU.


She was pretty. With long blonde hair.

I wonder if I'd have felt more or less disgusted if she hadn't been attractive, wearing glasses and pricey winter casual-country wear that seemed like movie props to make her seem crunchier when you know if she were in the city she'd have on a cashmere sweater and contacts. She was dressed like a character on Frasier would dress to go to the cabin with him and Niles, and she put her box and children in her environmentally-sensitive car.

I had a rebuke on my lips (a snotty "you're welcome - have a nice day!" or "don't even say thank you, huh?") but I didn't say anything. And I wonder about that, too. Was I intimidated because she looked "high class"?

Since we started living part-time in Seattle I've been struggling a lot as I see more frequently how fucking shitty people with money are. Like, seriously fucking subhuman.

I know I shouldn't get so mad about things like this, but THIS IS WHAT IS WRONG WITH THE WORLD! Isn't it? At least part of it?