TRENDING BREAKING NEWS: a pop song sounds like other pop songs
I'M TRYING. OKAY?! I'M TRYING MY FUCKING BEST.
Ice bucket challenge has been brought to my family and my workplace. I am not liked enough to be challenged, but just in case, I’m gonna write enough material to make a video at least an hour long so as to waste everyone’s time.
one time i learned all the words to a rap song, is that cultural appropriation
As a fantasy football player who drafted Zac Stacy in one league, I of course named my team in that league ♥♥♥ Stacy’s Mom ♥♥♥. Now, ♥♥♥ Stacy’s Mom ♥♥♥ isn’t a terribly original team name, as evidenced by the fact that “Zac Stacy’s Mom” is the third-most searched-for term on Google when you type in “Zac Stacy,” but performing that Google search allowed me to learn that a picture of Christina Hendricks is the fourth-most relevant result for that search, which I choose to accept as canon.
OH MY STARS I JUST REALIZED THAT “GO HAM” DERIVED FROM “GO HOG WILD”
So I didn’t go to preschool. “He’s too smart!” my parents said, “He doesn’t need any of this!”
And then they put me in Kindergarten when I had just turned five, like, I turned five two weeks before school started. “He’s so smart!” they said, “He’d just waste his time sitting at home! He’s ready to get after it!”
NO I FUCKING WASN’T. I WAS A YEAR YOUNGER THAN EVERYONE ELSE, AND EVERYONE ELSE HAD ESTABLISHED PEER RELATIONSHIPS IN FUCKING PRESCHOOL. THANKS. THANKS FOR ALL THAT, YOU MORONS.
Pretty sure I didn’t have allergies until my parents said, “Well, he’ll skip preschool and enter Kindergarten super early!” Like, when that happened, my body was like, fuck it, they wanna raise a nerd, WE’LL GIVE THEM A FUCKING NERD. WE WILL GO HOG GODDAMN WILD ON THE NERD FRONT.
AND ANOTHER THING. ENOUGH ABOUT GETTING YOUR THREE-YEAR-OLD INTO A “GOOD PRESCHOOL.” Fuck. That is a problem exclusively reserved for your upper-class asses, TV writers. I didn’t even fucking go to preschool, because I’m a normal fucking human being and I was zoned into the crap-ass public elementary school I went to because I was the son of a retail associate and gas station assistant manager. This is a worry that literally no one who makes less than $500,000 a year has.
"Oh, no, if my kid doesn’t get into the right preschool, it’ll never get into Stanford!" YOUR KID’S NOT GOING TO GO TO STANFORD BECAUSE
A) YOU DIDN’T GO TO STANFORD, AND
B) IF YOU DIDN’T GO TO STANFORD, THEN YOUR KID HAS TO BE AN INTELLECTUAL OR ATHLETIC ELITE. THERE IS LITERALLY A 1% CHANCE OF ANY KID BEING IN THE TOP 1%. YOUR KID IS GOING TO GO TO A SCHOOL OF ILL REPUTE AND SPEND ITS TIME THERE DEBATING BUD LITE LIME LIME-A-RITA VS. BUD LITE LIME RAZZ-BRRR-ITA. DEAL. FUCKING. DEAL.
I’m just going to go back to last night’s post: hey, TV writers? Fucking enough with the “maybe we can’t get pregnant?” storylines. “Well, maybe she’s barren!” No, she’s going to go to the doctor, often without her husband knowing, and the doctor will say she is literally just all eggs. “Well, maybe he’s sterile!” No, HE’S going to go to the doctor, often while feeling very insecure about his masculinity, and the doctor will say that his penis is made out of semen and that he could get statues pregnant. A baby is going to be goddamn had. There is absolutely no reason to fear infertility or sterility because this is a network fucking TV show that isn’t Friday Night Lights and those words don’t exist.
You know, you watch season five of Scrubs as a 13-year-old or whatever, you’re like, “Wow, this is a great season of TV! They’re doing really neat things!”
And then you re-watch it as a 25-year-old and fuuuuuuuuck.
Like there’s an episode where Turk, WHO IS A SURGEON, sees that a store-brand pregnancy test showed up positive in the trash can and says, “Holy crap, Carla’s pregnant.” And when he tells his wife, WHO IS A NURSE, that the store-brand pregnancy test was positive, she does not say, “Well, let’s just talk to A FUCKING DOCTOR, MAYBE AT OUR PLACE OF EMPLOYMENT, before we share this big news!” just goes “OH MY GOD I’M PREGNANT.” I mean, come on.
And then the fucking five stages of grief episode. Like, this is a trope, everyone does it, but this one felt especially hacky, in that a character is invented to show up periodically and state, “Hey! That sounds like bargaining!” Fucking congratulations on getting your spec script made, producer’s nephew. Way to waste everyone’s fucking time. Especially Dave Foley’s.
pppppSo, okay, Caralin went to a kitten website or something that said the best way to get a cat to stop biting your hand or foot or whatever is to quickly pull the thing away and either hiss or sternly say, “NO.” Now, look. I don’t know Caralin’s sources, so I can’t say for sure that this was the conclusion at which they arrived after countless experiments. But…
Like, okay, in any experiment, there is a control — in this case, the kitten — and a group of variables. The “NO” and “sssssss” variables won out, but what were the failed experiments? What shit did they try before they arrived at those two? This seems to be noise-based, so obviously, other noises were tested at whatever facility tests this shit, so what were the other noises? STOP? UH-UH, HONEY? BRRRRRRRRRRR? That noise in “Want U Back?” And people, PEOPLE WITH DEGREES IN SCIENCE AND WORE LAB COATS, had to oversee these experiments and take notes. “Hmmm, kitten A doesn’t seem to take to HORK, but kitten B has responded?” “Yes, but Persons A and B feel quite silly.” “Very well, this is my job and I am earning money observing this.”
i just took the als i just fucking donated money of my own accord challenge. i now dare three people to just fucking donate money. goddamnit.
why can’t you just donate to als prevention or whatever
why you gotta make people visit physical harm upon their own persons
i don’t understand anything