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I'm generally a nice person. I smile at people randomly. I use my manners. I hold doors for people even when they're just outside of the non-awkward distance to door holding. I give strangers the benefit of the doubt. I say my prayers. Kiss my wife and children and tell them that I love them frequently. I call my parents at least once every other week. I'm a "decent" guy. 

But there are some people... some people who I just can't get past. There are some people that I just can't bring myself to like anymore. I've tried, I've given in my all, but in the end I always have to fall back on the haunches of "you're just a bad person".

So here's a little online toast to the people I really don't like in life. Raise your glasses high with me!

Here's to you, person distracted while on your cell phone!

Your call is really important. It would have to be if you were driving one handed with the other hand on your phone. I would bet it is even an emergency situation where the person on the other end of the line has your children held hostage and has threatened to kill one of them if you hang up or stop talking. 

I can see that you've also been practicing your telepathic abilities seeing as how you changed lanes so quickly in front of me. I must be one of those stubborn minded folk who are not easily communicated with over the ether. 

So go on, cell phone driver - keep on that phone and make sure you save the world doing it. Nothing is as important as your conversation, especially when barreling down the highway at 75mph in a large, steel bullet. If I had to balance the necessity of my children's lives and your phone call - I certainly would be willing to sacrifice my children.

No wait, just kidding... why don't you just drive into that tree over there at a high velocity. I'm not saying I wish death on you - but I do wish you severe bodily harm that prevents you from ever driving again.

 

Here's to you exhausted and complaining parent!

You poor, poor thing - your kids are so evil and terrible. Seeing as they are so young, they've clearly been predestined by some mysterious force to climb into this world with the sole purpose of making your life hell.

Oh... wait... maybe you're a shitty parent and that's why your kids are shitty too. But please, feel free to tell the entire social media world how much your kids aggravate you - how bad they act - how much you just need your "other" to pick up the slack so that you can have some peace and quiet and a tall glass of wine. I love reading your latest twitter and blog about how triumphant of a parent you are for making it through just one more day with your hellions, how you are the conqueror of the year because no one else but you could handle the minions of Satan thrown to the surface to burn your ambitions and dreams to the ground. 

It's not the "shitty" part of you that bothers me. There are shitty parents everywhere, and hell, even I'm sometimes a shitty parent. The reason I hate you is because you write about it on the internet to every random person who would want to read it. But what you don't seem to grasp is that anything you put on the internet is around forever. 

Our kids are going to be way more connected to the internet then we ever could be. They are going to see everything... 

and here's the clincher as to why I hate you: your kids are going to see everything you wrote about them

Imagine you sit down at your computer and look up some history of your mom or dad on the internet... and YOU came across globs and globs of hate, whining, disgust, and bitching about how shitty of a kid you are. You'd be hurt... you'd start to mistrust... you'd go through emotional turmoil over it. 

I can't wait to hear about when your kids are teenagers and destroying you. Paybacks a bitch and I full intend to grab a bowl of popcorn and enjoy the show when it happens.

Here's to you, person who thinks waste expulsion is popular mixed media!

In recent years I've come to learn that women are almost more sloppy in the bathroom than men. If I would have been writing this post 6 years ago (also around the time I got married... huh... go figure) I would have segregated this only to the male population since that is all I have direct experience with... but turns out that some-freaking-how women are more messy. Now, everyone is included in this rant. 

Guys: You have a freaking gun... a pointing device... a god forsaken wand that aims. How in the hell do you pee on the floor? A urinal is normally a 2ft x 4ft target and you can't hit that!? Especially when you are practically standing inside of it when you go? 

 

I wear shoes, but I still don't like standing in your pee pee that somehow made it on the floor. Having pee shoes is not a highlight of my day. 

And why... WHY would you stand and pee at the toilet and not lift the seat?! Is one extra second all the troublesome to prevent my ass from having your wee juice all over it?

And women... my god... the horror stories I've heard...

Are you a mixed media bathroom artist? Then I hate you.

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There was a time in my life when I thought I'd own the coolest car, the most tech'ed out house, and have the hottest non-commital girlfriend. It was a fantasy land where I was 25 years old, making a cool six figures on my way to seven, and living the so called "high life". A dream where I'd go to my 10 year high school reunion in my personal chopper, flying below it on a platform which is holding a grand piano and me - jamming Ben Folds Five's One Angry Dwarf and 200 Solemn Faces with huge speakers blaring down on all of my old classmates, most of whom I hated at the time of this dream.

"If you really want to see me check the papers and the TV - look who's telling who what to do! Kiss my ass goodbye."

So, you may be asking yourself, how close did he get to fulfilling his dream?

Not. At. All.

Let's see how I stacked up to my dreams:

  • The coolest car
    • I used to have one of the coolest cars - a 2005 MINI Cooper S. Sexy little thing she was. However, she is no longer and now I'm killin' a dadmobile. A 2002 Mazda MPV. Don't let the "Multi-purpose Vehicle mislead you; it's a mini-van.

sex mobile
oh yeah - get's all the ladies

 

  • A tech'ed out house
    • Well at least I own a house, and we do have some decent tech lying around. But it certainly isn't the futuristic modern home with white carpets and black leather and a home control panel in every room. It's a 1960's era house and it has rooms and a roof. Ta-da!
  • The hottest non-commital girlfriend
    • I had one of those. She was hot as hell, put up with all of my shenanigans, loved to game, loved to cook, and would do anything for me. Her laugh is what I lived for, and those curves... mmmm. So I did what any self-respecting man would do. I married her. So that gets rid of "non-commital" and "girlfriend", but I'll tell ya, she's still the hottest.
  • Six figures on the way to seven
    • Funny.
  • Helicopter at the reunion
    • I didn't even go - it wasn't worth my time.
 
My dreams used to really suck

Funny how life and maturity have a way of smacking you upside the face to remind you just how big of a douche you were in the days of old. How absolutely terrible your dreams and aspirations were. Fast cars, hot chicks, and all the blow you could muster does not equal personal happiness. They're just masks that you'd put on to feign self-worth.
 
I've been learning even more just what self-worth is... well... worth. It's everything! If you can't find value in yourself, you aren't going to find it in other things as well. You know what makes me feel valuable these days? Little girl sassiness and baby vomit and poop, I can't even begin to describe the feeling of pride as I wear my badge of spit-up on my shirt from BabyB. I couldn't be more proud of my life as I clean up a poo-splosion which shot so far up his back that it hit his neck.

 

poosplosion

 

I love the looks I get from other people as my little girl throws down her opinion on matters. Even if she thinks that the bear and the wolf with the monster and the unicorn would be an excellent rebuttal to why the Wisconsin recall election will be historically significant - the fact that she has her own mind, thoughts, and personality brings nothing but smiles to my face.
 
poosplosion
 
I hop in my rusty-ass minivan, cruising to Sams club, doing 55 (it can't go much faster), and I still smile at hot girls in the car next to me. And they laugh... and I laugh... because what I have and what I am is awesome.
 
 And then my hot wife smacks me for checking out other women.