And Now, A Brief Break Between Riveting Stories About Farms

This post is not a nice place to be.  Strong language, violence, and adult themes are present.  Reader discretion is advised.

Some people just set me off.  Being in contact with them makes me daydream of taking my freshly-poured hot tea, throwing it in their face, and reveling in their screams just before pummeling them into small bite-size pieces.  Just having them swish into my eye-line can evoke a murderous rage.  Actually being forced to speak with them is enough to spark the primal urge to SMASH.

Whew.  That needed to be let out.

A few random observations for the day:

1.  I hate people who are absurdly proud of their home area.  There is a multitude of shitburgers out there who think that they just live in the greatest place on earth, and that anyone who doesn’t is somehow missing out on their little house of perfection.  They act like they themselves are somehow better by virtue of the fucking place they live.  There are a lot of people like that, unfortunately.  Texans, for example.  Listening to some asswipe extolling the virtues of Texas makes me long to shove a Longhorn steer up their dumb, same-place-as-Arkansas-living asses, horns first.  The worst though, to me, is fucking New Yorkers, especially the dipshits from The City.  Hearing those tools talk about the City Wattah as the reason why they make the best bagels, pizza, bread, rust-stains, potholes, and whatever else they claim is the best makes me long to seal up the whole place, Snake Plisken style, and kill anything that gets out.  I hate that stupid fucking song and whatever douchebag’s idea it was to claim “if you can make it there, you can make it anywhere.”  Fuck you, asshat.  I’ve been to New York, I’ve eaten in New York, and the fucking food isn’t any better than it is anywhere else, and I don’t have to take a fucking cab to avoid the goddamn legion of freaks and New-York-living dumbfucks who live there, trying desperately to convince themselves that it’s a great place to be.  If it was so fucking great, you wouldn’t need to talk about it so goddamn much.  Just hearing those fuckheads talk about Central Park and how beautiful it is makes me want to cram the Teton Mountains up their backsides.

2.  I sometimes forget how awesome the movie Sin City is.  I liked the comic beforehand, and they did an amazing job bringing those panels to life.  I mean, you could take stills from the film and put them next to the comic scenes they represent, and see that they recreated it brilliantly well.  It does make me a little sad, seeing the big eyes of Brittany Murphy and knowing that she’s gone, just another cog in the Big and Pointless Wheel of Existence.  A beautiful movie, full of hookers and convicted murderers and dirty cops and bloodshed.

3.  I’m not generally a huge fan of Grammar Police, but hearing someone say “I could care less” makes me want to choke them with their own shirt.  I once had a girlfriend that said it constantly.  I’d correct her every now and again, until she told me that she could care less that she had it wrong.  Indeed.

About Alan Edwards

Former cancer caregiver. Husband of the most magical and amazing person who ever lived.

Posted on February 3, 2011, in Rantin' and Bitchin' and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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