The Airing of Grievances

And One Last From Vandelay...

Okay, I wasn't going to grieve this year either just because we had lost all momentum with this place as so many people do with so many blogs but then I said something about Festivus on Facebook to which Assman posted his grievance and then my friend Zoo (Brody around here) posted a grievance which was directed straight at me. Well because it's Zoo, most of his grievances were kind of stupid but one really stuck out at me that was particularly retarded so here's my little secular rant at the dumbest grievance of all time. Sort of a counter-grievance if you will...

Zoo: And all this anti-religious propaganda and pro-Carl Saganism, it’s just as preachy as religion itself and sometimes that’s the problem, the preachiness of others.

(Bangs head against desk 58 times)

Seriously…you are an idiot. Preachiness is the problem? Preachiness? Not what’s being preached? Are fucking kidding me? I got news for you…I would love to be preached to. Preach your socks off! Tell me what I’m missing! A billion fucking people think a cracker turns into the flesh of their messiah where upon they eat him and that’s perfectly acceptable behavior. So acceptable that you can’t even be elected to high office in this country if you don’t believe it. That’s not a fucking problem, Zoo? I sit here before you today and I say…”Preach the fuck away.”

Here’s the thing Zoo…the problem is not the preachiness. It’s the inability to back up anything that you’re preaching with anything of remote substance. I embrace the shit out of the discourse yet assholes like you think it’s perfectly acceptable for people to say something and then get all offended when someone questions it just because they can hide behind the stained-glass window of Faith. See that’s the difference…I want my views constantly questioned. I’m okay with being wrong. I’m okay with not knowing things. Not knowing things is way more liberating than tying yourself to an absolute truth…an impermeable faith…especially one as retarded as the idea that a fucking Palestinian carpenter died for your sins.

I mean look at the fucking things that you’re comparing…

One Last Grievance from Assman

Yeah, we suck.

Does it matter that most of us do our grieving every day on Facebook, so... nah, I can't excuse it. We suck.

All I do is whine about Higgs Boson research detractors and bitch about man stuff on a podcast and I can't take 5 minutes out of my day to update this site? I'm this delicate? I should be caned.

But rather than let a sacred day go by without addressing it, I'll squeeze one out.

The 2010 Festivus Extravaganza?

Okay, well perhaps not "extravaganza", per se, but the theme to this bitch is that you just don't know who's going to show up. Thanks to TexansTragedy, up until a few days ago, I wasn't so sure if anyone out there had a lot of problems with you people. Then it occurred to me that while your life may be swell, there's still a whole bunch of shit going on that's gotta be grinding your gears.

So, we've still had a decent year around here but there were a few folks who apparently got caught up in the whole "blogging is dead" meme. Some of them even Tweet! In spite of those douchebags, as previously mentioned...we still have ourselves a responsibility around here to withhold a tradition unlike any other. To err is human...to grieve is divine. Fire' em up, fellow grievers! Here's a little inspiration...

I'll take anything at [email protected] that comes in before noon, 12/23.

I'll open this up tonight and then we'll start again in the morning...

- Vandelay
- TexansTragedy
- Kruger
- H.E. Pennypacker
- Brody
- HDO
- Bania
- Flash Warner
- Longtime Lurker
- Rush
- Whatley
- Klompus
- Assman

2010 Festivus with Assman, Briefly

You want last second, 1/8th assed Grievances? Here they come.

Dear Airing of Grievances, last month, I started writing my Grievances for this day about 50 words at a time. I'd be in my car, negotiating traffic and trying to look sober, then something would pop in my head. I'd think, "Ha ha... yeah... fuck people with fauxhawks..." then I'd scribble a small note on a piece of paper with the idea that I'd add it to the final draft later.

After several weeks of compiling scribbled shards of paper that made my car's front seat look like it held the ingredients for a ransom note, we started approaching this day and hadn't posted the solicitation for entries. I grabbed my papers and tossed them, thinking they'd be useless to me. Now here I am, faking it in 45 minutes. Fun times.

Someone's Got To Be The Villain, And I'm the Man For The Job

 

Plus, December would never be the same without contributing something lackluster for AofG Festivus.  And writing something lackluster for AofG Festivus wouldn't be possible without procrastinating to the very last minute.  So here's my last-minute, thoughtless 800-word present, as if I bought it straight from the airport gift shop.

Dr. Whatley...from the back of a truck

Yeah, let me take a break from my life of helping people who "accidentally" sit on snow globes or suffer from broken extremities because they feel it was a great idea to snowboard down a freeway ramp to chime in today. Last year I emceed this mess we call Festivus from a bar, and I ended up so drunk that I never officially ended it. Then I disappeared for all of a year and well, fuck it, here I am...with quite a bit to grieve aboot. (yeah I said 'aboot'. I live near Canada, eh?) Now I'm typing this piecemeal from the back of a Type III Advanced Life Support Ambulance, so unless I break out the narcotic box and shoot my ass up with some Morphine, I should get through it just fine.

Now, let me say this: I have gone a whole year without writing much of anything, anywhere. That doesn't mean I haven't had a lot of problems with a lot of people, I have. But my time has been so goddamn busy that I couldn't get my now fat again ass to sit down and punch this shit out in a coherent manner. I've been around, just silent, like that bitch in Twilight Zone: The Movie who just stares at the TV and has no mouth, yeah, you can call me that creepy fucker.

Well, now I have a mouth and I'm gonna use it. Wait. That sounds pretty bad, like I'm some crack head looking to suck some cock for a McChicken sammich. Whatever.

I gotta lot of problems with:

Kids Christmas Concerts. Yeah, last year I took a shot at little apple chewing fuckers the world round. Despite my having three kids of my own, I have to say that I hate kids. Even worse are their pushy, "my kids are perfect" parents with their flabby mom-arms and Lee jean wearing dickhead dads, driving a Yukon with the special bumper sticker that says, "I tote my brats everywhere in this gas hog because they're awesome and Al Gore can fuck himself". Well 'tis the season where I have to sit amongst a crowd of these self-indulgent assholes at least once a year while their big headed brats sing "Oh Come All Ye Faithful" sounding like a cat got caught in Fargo's wood chipper. What is our fascination with this horse shit every year? Flash going off on cameras, video recording while their kid picks his nose and eats it like it is manna from heaven. You have to get there earlier than Thanksgiving to get a seat that isn't in the parking lot. Shit I get better seats at Cubs games. Let's not forget that there are grandparents involved too. Hell, at the last concert I went to a few days ago, you'd think a Neil Diamond tribute group was in attendance singing along behind me. For fucks sake you foley catheter wearing, liver spotted, psoriasis having clown, it's a kids concert, not your last foray into singing at Carnegie Hall so shut the fuck up! Speaking of old fogies...

Nursing Homes. Now I deal with these places on a daily basis. And I can't blame the old people in there. Most of them can't remember the last time they took a shit, (which happened to be five minutes ago on my ambulance cot by the way), so they get a pass. I DO have a problem with the lazy fucktards who find out their 94 year old mother has the balance of a dredle and thinks she's Mary Queen of Scots, so why not dump her incontinent ass in a facility that reeks of infectious piss and egg salad sandwiches. Sure, that's the way mom would've wanted to go out, of course. Unbelievable. I'm amazed at the people that do this to loved ones. What goes on in their heads? "Well, mom pissed and shit herself again, not my problem anymore. I need to hit the beach in Clearwater, Peace!"? I see them all the time. What's worse is they drop in once a year to say hi and they bring the little Bubble Yum snapping fuckers with them to sit on grandmas lap, further pushing on her bladder dribbling piss all over everything. Dr. Kevorkian had it right folks. He had it right.

Rush Breaks Off a Few G's

I like my job, well I did. Until you had me doing shit that no one else wanted to do. Just because I am the only mother fucker that got their degree in a time I was alive doesn't mean that I willing will take on all the shit that is handed to me. Everyone else comes in at nine and knows exactly what they are doing. Me? I could be doing some shit some bastard that plays games or Facebooks all day SHOULD be doing, but I take it on due my "caring" for this shit hole. Noe you get some weight put on you from above and you shift the shit onto me. Say I don't see the 'big picture." Everyone knows its just cause your gay ass didn't get a big enough cock last night. Fuck You! Big Picture? You pay me shit, but have a useless bitch making twice I do doing a job that at any other place the person would be making 15 bucks an hour. Fuck You.

It's nice you give me 9 months warning to find another job. But when I tell you that someone needs training cause I am out of this hell hole before then...REPEATEDLY...no one shows up at the training. Then again the bitch that hust got her Bachelor's degree thinks that what I do is too "technical" doesn't want to take it on. FUCK YOU.

Funny how everyone else in my group is looking at jumping of the burning ship that you fucking lit on fire. Way to make it a friendly work environment. Hire the cute guy that has an ass you like for your assistant but don't even think about the fuckers here that are doing 4 jobs because you are to much of a pussy to fight the shit ass union that keeps the Facebooking fucks in their seats at 70K a year while I slave away doing their jobs.

I should just change some passwords and walk the fuck out, have fun asshole. Only thing I actually enjoy are the sweet asses in the sundresses (c'mon Spring.) Hell, I am so pisses I am actually starting to notice the Ugg boots and the shapely asses in the jeans. But then again you have me sharing a shit office that's either 30 degrees to hot or cold with two other people. Thanks you got us a office coffee maker! Its fucking cold by the time I get my mug back to my desk.

Thanks, I will take my time at lunch, there is a sweet titted Asian chick in a too short skirt that I want to gawk at some more. Not that you would care, you are to busy "working at home." Nice to see that you got that new credenza. Must be nice to make 150K a year and only "work" 2 days a week. How the hell do know what's cutting edge when you are thinking of that new boy toy and how he'd look polishing up the end table?

Oh, and when I introduce a product to you that would make production that much easier, it would be a little easier to give a presentation on it when I actually get to see it in action. Rather than taking another day off and driving to the conference to walk in for an hour, then leave...why not send the guy that suggested it? It would probably be easier for me to give a report on it if I actually got some fucking information.

On another note. Brett Favre, fuck you. Die already. You used to be revered by fans and media alike. Now the only people that give a shit work in Bristol, CT. Though I think that's only a contractual shit. Go home, text your cock to some other piece of plastic ass and fade off to the land of Wrangler jeans and Redman.

Grievance From a Longtime Lurker

Call me Longtime Lurker, if you will.

I have often had a lot of problems with you people, but haven't gotten my
shit together in time to tell you about it. But I slipped under the deadline
this year, fuckers, so it's on.

*--United Airlines*. How can one corporation be so utterly fucktastic at
their job? Getting from Denver to Chicago should not suck this bad. And
flight attendant lady, who gave me the dirty look when I asked for some
crackers or something for my kid to eat? Yes, we did bring snacks for him.
But after we sat on the tarmac longer than the whole motherfucking flight
was supposed to last, we ran out of that stuff. So give me some crackers.

*--Republicans.* Listen, the older I get, the more I understand why
conservatives are the way they are. I'm not becoming one, but I understand
it more. But Republicans are not conservatives. They are assholes. Hey
Republicans: stop being assholes. Which reminds me of....

*--The lady I saw driving the other day with the "Obama Is An Undocumented
Worker" sticker on her car.* Seriously? This shit again? And one more thing
about that....

The Prodigal Flash Returns

(I love chicks who format their own html for me)

Hi. I'm Flash Warner and I'm here to bitch. It's a little lengthy but it's
formatted! That helps, right? :)

--------
ESPN: You are some triflin motherfuckers. So Rex Ryan has a foot
fetish. He and his wife even get down with BDSM and swingers. Big
fucking deal. Does it affect the New York Jets? No. Does it affect his
job performance? Please. Does it have any impact on the NFL? Not at all.
So why do you have anything to say about it? You had no trouble going
silent on Ben Roethlisberger's sexual assault allegations, but ensuring
that Sports Nation knows that the NFL and the Jets consider this a
personal matter we should all fuck off from is news? Fuck that. You're
Deadspin with a larger staff, better videos, and a played out Bill
Simmons. The sooner someone drops a bomb on Bristol, the better off the
world will be.

Chris Berman: I hate you with the fire of 10,000 suns. And
no, it's not because your lack of preparation causes you to stutter and
stammer while reading the teleprompter; or that your cultural knowledge was
cryogenically frozen around the time Tears for Fears broke up; or even
because you're so fat that you can't say more than five words without
descending into a breathless grumble.

It's this: “Just don’t call me a personality. What is that? That’s a morning disc jockey. I entertain, but I take what I do, the journalism part, seriously.”

FUUUUCK-FUCK-FUCK-FUCK-FUCK-FUCK you. My left breast has more substance. You are an automatic mute; a clown; a jester; a jock sniffing beached whale in a Men's Warehouse suit whom Greenpeace needs to tow back to sea. Sports coverage is buried in the avalanche of your journalistic inadequacies, you fat, vaudevillian fuck, and it'll likely never recover. Die.

Jenn Sterger: While I enjoyed your near-botched shaming of
True Grit Favre, why don't you and your gold digging cock socket do some
real philanthropic work and mount Chris Berman? He'll die of a coronary, and
I will celebrate you forever as the Whore of Occasional Good Deeds. It's
win-win.

Size-challenged men who send pics of their junk: If you're
attempting to seduce someone with this method, logic dictates that you send
shots of your business at its largest, hardest, and most impressive. But
most men aren't logical, are they? Instead of fluffing up and showing off a
piece that's ready to do work and turn us out, too many of you send pictures
of flaccid, wounded turtle cock and wonder why we aren't turned on. It's as
if you're saying to yourselves, "She's been a little resistant. How can I
fix it? Ah, yes - a picture of my dick. It's only four inches long and looks
like an enlarged thumb, but if I get it at the right angle…" Sorry (Brett),
but no. A rule of thumb to all you romantic gentlemen out there: show us
something we can use. If your stock looks like it'd be at home with a little
relish, mustard, and a bun, put it away.

AofG: This site was a must visit for years, unlocking the
magic on various topics five or six times a week. What happened? AofG's
demise makes me sad, and it must become great again. Coz? Jackie? Frank? Are you out there? Please do something. I want to live here again.

Kenny Bania Has a Stone In His Shoe

3D - You're not that impressive. "3D is gay. Nobody wants to sit on a couch wearing glasses poppin’ bubbles out of the air like some sort of fucked up Ray Charles." Kenny Powers was spot on. Only kids and idiots like you. See you again in 30 years or when new technology makes you obsolete.

My digestive system - I turned 30 and now you can't process hot wings? That's how it's gonna be, eh? Did you and my knees and my back all get together and form some type of evil alliance to fuck me. Well FUCK YOU. I accept your challenge. Process the shit I eat or we're all going down together. You started this. I'll kill all of us. You know I will. Your move shithead.

North Korea - Your country has the most impressive short man syndrome in the entire world. Other countries don't want to fight you because then they would have to deal with your big brother China. You do something really stupid again and your big brother will put you down like the boy in Old Yeller who loves you, but has to. No one cares how many soldiers you have. It's like you haven't even looked at other countries weapons on wikipedia. Idiot.

Old drivers - You're lucky I'm not on a healthcare death panel because I would pull the plug on all of you. If driving really confuses you and you can't maintain the speed limit, then stop driving. If you can't properly operate a motor vehicle and insist on still driving, then I hope your heater goes out and you freeze this winter. Your kids probably don't love you too.

My ex girlfriend - You broke up with me because I don't believe in Jesus? Fucking really? Give me something I can understand like "being a selfish prick" or "you're an alcoholic" or "you have no goals in life" or "you've never given me an orgasm" or absolutely anything else. There's a shit ton of more reasons not to be with me, but Jesus?!!? Well GOD DAMN IT.