The Airing of Grievances

I Weep For The Future

This won't take long, but there is something about winter and the blizzard we are experiencing here along the balmy shores of Lake Michigan that are really bringing the stupid out in people. Or shall I say, bringing the stupid people out. Fast drivers, clueless idiots, wheel grippers, high school girls who demand that they don't wear winter coats because it makes them look less hot despite the fact it is fucking -3 degrees...you all know the drill.

I'm pretty sure my latest observation can't be topped though.

I needed gas. I didn't want to chance running out in this shit because the only thing worse than running out of gas is running out of gas in a snow storm when 4x4 vehicle driving morons become the road equivalent to dogs on ice skates. (Note to 4x4 drivers...four wheels on ice don't grip the ice better, you just slide more effectively as 2 wheel drive on ice. So says Newton.)

I pull up to the pump and exit my vehicle when I notice a woman, no, a girl...18-19 years old maybe? She was wearing a jean skirt, a sweater, mittens and Uggs and at first glance I wondered, "Nice fucking legs. God I hope she's at least 18 because I'm pretty damn sure that I'd hit that pretty hard and fast". Then I noticed her tears. Great. Nothing worse than a sappy young girl crying over God knows what. And she was staring at the gas pump, weeping, just staring at it like it had just swallowed her Hello Kitty thong when she looked at me and asked, "Do you know how to work these things?"

Huh?

Apparently, little Missy here has never learned the complicated science of refueling a vehicle. Baffling, yes, I know. She can probably suck a golf ball through a garden hose but can't figure out the gas cap thingy and where the pump doohickey goes on her brand new 2009 Pontiac G8 GT. I knew she wasn't faking it either, you know, to get some old man with a fluffed tent pole bulge racing to assist her under the guise she might blow me, err, "them" later only to end up in the spank bank anyway. Tease. No she was miserable, so I of course offered to help with a crash course on how to pump gas.

When I put her $10 worth in (3.87 gallons), I made sure she rehashed today's lesson and that it wasn't quite as daunting a task as it seemed, right? She said yes, but that she never had to fill her tank herself before, since either her dad, brother or bf do it for her and always have. Seriously.

Lesson today? There are people out there (hot chicks) like this that exist in this world still. And the thing is, these are the type of people who won't have to do jack shit for their life to be perfect and have gold coins fall out of their asses on command. It just happens. Fuck me.

She did not.

Heads Up!

I'll tell you what. This past weekend sucked ass. I had some issues with a certain lady friend of mine (see: ex girlfriend) that turned my weekend from one of sucking back Turkey and stuffing more often than a teenage girl fingering herself to Twilight books, to one of "what the fuckery" regarding the female species. But I digress, nobody wants to hear nor cares about why the bitches in my life be crazy, so I'll let it be.

For those not in the know, I am a private pilot. And I may not be the smartest cat in the world, but I know one thing is certain...running out of fuel in a plane is not a recipe for good times. I'm pretty sure that most functioning upper brained mammals can understand this simple principle: A mechanical flying object not in contact with the ground, once it has lost the ability to remain airborne, will become gravity's bitch and will probably come into contact with the ground at some point in a not so fun way. In fact, in pilot training, one of the first things they cover is "make sure your plane always has enough fuel". Makes sense to us all right? Heh.

So why has this become such an epidemic that it warrants it's own AP news story? They make it sound like we all need to watch the fuck out because Cessna's will be dropping from the sky like jizz from a hookers snatch so heads up.

The Voice of Reason

You may have heard about the two American reporters that were caught and arrested and sentenced to 12 years in labor prison by North Korea? Pretty scary shit of course but just in case you haven't had the time or the inclination to go ahead and form your own opinion on it, that mega-douche you see pictured above is here to help. Tweeteth the Kutcher...

"This should be a national crisis... We have to demand that something be done."

Well, "national crisis" certainly seems like unnecessary hyperbole and while these girls should not be without empathy, I'm not really sure who we're supposed to be making these demands to. I mean, there's a lot of bad shit going on the world right now. People are busy. What can really be done?

"I say it’s special ops time… If we can save that Captain (Capt. Richard Phillips) from (Somalian) pirates, we can save these journalist (sic)."

Oh, fuck me. Yes, let's send John Rambo to North Korea to start kicking ass and taking names. Have we really learned nothing from this past decade or so? This asshole probably spent the last year campaigning like hell for the current POTUS promoting a platform of diplomacy and now two American citizens get fucked by the laws of a sovereign nation and your first thought is to go all AK-47 on them? That's just brilliant. In the midst of two wars that are sending people home in body bags every day, let's go after an insane, old lesbian with nukes because of two people.

I got no funny punchlines. Just...fucking...wow.

Interesting Dichotomy

I can't figure out if this is cute or the most terrifying thing I've ever seen in my life...

Okay, since I didn't say too much there I'd like to add that Marley and Me is the worst movie ever made. It's about two people that get married and buy a yellow lab from a breeder. It ends up being the worst dog you could possibly have. It doesn't listen to anyone, it has no humility or remorse, it destroys everything, it jeopardizes the safety of the children, it gets them in trouble constantly, and it basically shows nothing but a complete lack of gratitude for the people that chose to give it a home for the whole movie. Then he dies. After living a full life where it got away with whatever it wanted, he dies. That's it. That's the movie. They got a bad dog and put up with it's bullshit for like 14 years and then it died. Seriously...how the fuck did someone sell that as an actual movie plot? At least Old Yeller was kind of a bad ass and saved the children's lives and died from doing something noble. The only redeeming qualities that Owen Wilson came up with in the epic speech about this dog was that it ate an answering machine and it slept on the baby's floor for a whole night when he was sick...once. Then the selfish animal dies. Wah!

I'll let everyone in on a secret. If you're going to get a dog...just get a greyhound. Trust me on this one.

"Bone Dry: The Ellen McGee Story"

They appeared to be your average American couple. Ellen and Gerald "Rimshot" McGee had been married for 7 years and according to their neighbors in the tiny hamlet of Providence, Rhode Island, they had about as close to a perfect marriage as you can reasonably expect in a world full of taxpayer bailouts and Somali pirates. But, perhaps their marriage was too perfect.

We are about to embark upon a tale so disturbing, so unexpected, and so dry...so dry that it will immediately make you gayer than a male hairdresser chugging a jizz slurpee. Tonight, we present to you..."Bone Dry: The Ellen McGee Story".

Cock Pills

I have been neglecting the hell out of my AofG posting, just like it was a teenage girl chained up in my basement. You know, doing just the bare minimum for it. I feel bad. I can't neglect the people who come here just to get themselves a slice of that Newman. The Benoit Generation. They need me in their lives.

What. A. Psycho.

This is just pathetic.

A man in Jharkhand has written the name of his lost love 1.4 million times since 1997 and wants to continue till he reaches the figure of 10 million as penance for not having had the courage to ask for her hand in marriage as well as to inspire other lovers. 'I love my wife and daughters. My family is my life but I write my first love's name to keep her memories alive, to punish myself for not having asked her to marry me and to teach a lesson to other lovers,' Gaba told.

Oh, what an inspiration you are to everyone, Gaba. Your message of regret and self-loathing is surely one that will aid future generations of lovers for years to come.

Douchebag.

Sea Kittens!

I hate PETA. I think I only hate Ray Lewis more than I hate PETA. Really, if Braylon Edwards showed up during Thanksgiving dinner and killed my grandparents with a maize and blue knife I wouldn't hate him as much as I hate PETA. They make people who don't want to give Wayne Huizenga tax cuts look bad.

Bristles for Bitches

Friday was new toothbrush day. Yep, that's right. Big day, you know? I'm shopping for something to put in my mouth for the next month, so I'd like to get it right.

But every time I pick a toothbrush, I'm disappointed. Why? Well, they have a lot of "soft" bristle toothbrushes, which we all know are for gaping vaginas. And I'm like, no. Fuck that. I want to clean my teeth, not coddle them. And then I see some "medium" bristles. Better, but not good enough. I want "hard" bristles. Or "concrete". Or "will make your gums look like a meth addict's". But no. Nowhere to be found, ever. It's like "regular" and "large" condoms. Fucking retailers...if you have soft, you have to have hard. None of this medium stuff. Ridic.

So listen up, toothbrush manufacturers. Make some hard bristle toothbrushes. Make something that will scrape the fuck out of my teeth instead of making them feel "fresh". This isn't Summer's Eve, people. I want to know that my teeth have been sufficiently brushed because my gums start bleeding like a coke addict's nose. I want them to leave me crying harder than a Zimbabwean woman being fucked by a 12-inch dildo studded with conflict diamonds. MAN UP, TOOTHBRUSH MANUFACTURERS!!!!

The Well Giveth Again

A little over a year ago, I got a racist email sent to me and I responded publicly on this site.

Apparently, someone recently found it on Google and sent an email to us saying she was going to send it to a person who had recently sent her the same email. Fine and dandy. I did, however, notice today that someone has added a comment at the bottom that I hadn't seen before.

Since the comment is only slightly less retarded than the email itself, I'm going to go ahead and pull an Assman on it.