Darwin vs. Fucktards

17 Nov

Manners. They are in danger of going extinct. I admit that I don’t have perfect manners, which used to be an instant flogging here in the South, but we have been over run by hipsters and freakishly liberal (not necessarily just the political kind) weirdos from California that have watered down our once strong Manner Militia.  Seriously, if I have learned anything in my current job, it is that people are jack asses and intentionally rude. My middle finger gets a hard on when a few of the regulars walk in the door and I get all giddy with excitement with the thought that I may accidently-on-purpose drop the F Bomb. Shocker, I know!  It’s not just at work; I’ve noticed it on the phone, while shopping and dare I say it, Face Book.  There’s a saying here in Texas that we use when we stumble across a manners fucktard, “you have no home schooling”. You know, their momma dropped the ball on the basics of life: be nice, chew with your mouth shut and don’t masturbate in public restrooms. Or on Skype for that matter. If the basics were not covered, then they are in a world of surprise and hurt when it comes to the bigger issues we all come across- those requiring self-preservation skills.

Getting buzzed is sort of fun. Getting completely shit faced is not. Ever. You go from happy to warm to loving every one and  then to puking your 3 boxes of red wine  up on your BFF’s white couch. The only thing worse than that is waking up without your clothes and your dignity anywhere in site. In some ones bed that you don’t know and it seems a handicam is on and pointed at your sweaty drunk ass. If you must get epically shit faced- do so at home. Your home. Seriously- don’t come to my house and think it’s a safe place to try to kill your stupid self with alcohol consumption. Somewhere in between “I love you man” and the morgue- I will have let every one draw on you with a Sharpie and then thrown your ass out on the lawn for the stray cats to piss on. That’s how un pretty completely hammered is. And no, I won’t hold your hair while you puke because A) I don’t want to smell your chili-cheese-frito-dead-dog-monkey-fart-booze-breath and B) we will have already shaved it off for you.

 Knowing when to STFU is an essential survival skill. I bet there are many candidates for the annual Darwin Awards, had they had this skill, that wouldn’t have met the main requirement to have this honor bestowed on them: death. Like today while I was at work. These chicks that are young enough to be my daughter where talking trash about this woman who works there because she told them to move the hell out of the server’s alley if all they were going to do is stand there and talk. Guess who said that? So I walk up to the gaggle of girls and say, “If you have something to say about me, then say it TO me because if I wanted to work around a bunch of pussies, I’d be a Gynecologist”. Silence all around and synchronized back peddling ensue. I’m fine if you have a problem with me so long as you have the balls to talk to me about it. I totally hate it when people complain to me about other people. What, you don’t like how Jane always talks really loud on her phone and the entire cubicle farm hears her conversation about how her yeast infection is back? Fucking go tell HER. Not me, not FaceBook and not every other person but Jane. Say what you mean to the person who needs to hear it or STFU before you get your ass handed to you at the office Christmas party by an annoyed with your bullshit co-worker.

Bad boys are just for fun, not for a relationship. I have certainly had my panties all moist for my share of them- even  talked  myself into thinking a couple of them were family gathering worthy. So wrong. If he cusses at you, cheats on you, ignores you and so on- he is bad news. If you just want a little rebel to show off- then yay fo you- go for it. Get your free dinner, show him off to your girls and even get your freak on once or twice. But do not date him and then cry to your friends daily about how he treats you like crap, won’t return your calls and doesn’t make you feel special.  Think of him as a rental car: fun for the weekend but you would never buy one because every one drives it like, you know, a rental….or we’ll refer you to the survival skill directly before this one.

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6 Responses to “Darwin vs. Fucktards”

  1. Alison Casilli November 17, 2011 at 8:49 AM #

    Yeh I have to say manners are almost a thing of the past. I have to constantly chime in on my child’s conversation with an adult with “yes ma’am” to correct her “yeh”s. So annoying. As for the STFU, I have to say that sometimes it is funny when someone vents to me but don’t whine and then do nothing. Vent the rage then go talk to the other person reasonably. I am good with that.

    • Honey Badger Press November 17, 2011 at 9:08 AM #

      Absolutely- totally vent then go take care of busines..but not every day about the same shit. You know?

  2. Absolutely Amanda November 17, 2011 at 1:10 AM #

    Ummm….. I have written proof that you will hold my hair if I am puking drunk. LOL.

    http://amanda-absolutely.blogspot.com/2011/07/it-sucks-to-think-you-are-wonder-woman.html#comment-form

    • Honey Badger Press November 17, 2011 at 9:08 AM #

      Well you’re different…you’re family and stuff and prolly wouldn’t puke on my furniture. I might still draw on you with a Sharpie though. 🙂

  3. Non-Stop Mom November 17, 2011 at 1:03 AM #

    OK, I’m totally going to have to remember that line about pussies and gynecologists. Just sayin’.

    🙂
    Amy

    • Honey Badger Press November 17, 2011 at 9:09 AM #

      LOL yeah- use that the next time teachers are pissing you off at a parent conference LOL

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