Archive for the ‘bullet points’ Category

Come in. Lay on my couch.


2008
10.24

I think I’m really onto something with the whole f-list thing because once I logged off my blog the other night I kept adding to it until my crankiness ran dry and my sunny disposition was restored to it’s rightful place: behind and to the left of my acerbic disposition which is in turn located somewhere in the upper regions of my thoracic cavity behind my sternum.

At first the additions to the f-list were completely logical magnets for the hatred shared by every rational human being: the Lakers, speed bumps, inventors of shows like Sorority Forever because really, how could you watch an episode of Sorority Forever and not want to punch the cast, creators, producers, network execs, advertisers and every sorority girl within a fifty mile radius square in the jaw? Hell, I wanted to stick myself in the eye with a red-hot poker for the sin of having sat through it without throwing my television into the street.

Anyway. So somewhere between adding item #21 (Kobe Bryant) and item #3,284,091 (sorbitol) I realized that I had become significantly more chipper. It would seem that when one burns so far through a list of stuff that one would like to drop-kick off the face of the earth that one is resorting to sugar substitutes and films in Esperanto that one can have feasibly purged oneself of homicidal urges that make one a threat to oneself and others.

Also, it helped that in the course of reading through comments and e-mails I was treated to te f-lists of others and will include them here:

Kaylia’s F-List:

Bosses
Micromanagers
The Stock Market
Radical Rights
Radical Lefts
Makers of the Push Up Bra
Expiration Dates That Lie
Anonymous Comments And Those Who Leave Them
Starbucks
Closed Minded Nutcases
My Pile of Dirty Laundry
My Pile of Clean Laundry
Country Music
American Idol
Political Commercials
Emo Kids
Dress Codes
Bottled Water
Mechanical Pencils
DHL
People Who Refuse to Wait Their Turn
Drivers Who Refuse To Wait Their Turn
Any Driver Who Has Ever Hit A Pedestrian
That ASSHOLE Who Hit Me Last Week

/deep breath/

Josephson’s f-list is, reportedly, me.

He didn’t submit an f-list but I can guarantee that my brother would agree with Josephson.

Malathionman took the f-list in a new direction and included every disease-free female in North America who looks tolerably well without the assistance of a paper bag over her head.

Jay’s f-list is unique in that it brings together ESPN and the Amish:

ESPN
The NFL
Reality TV
The Weatherman on TV
The Amish
TV Political Analysts
TV Sports Analysts
TV Financial Analysts
All TV Analysts of any kind
Kids
Shirtless dudes in Wal-Mart
Political ads (especially local politicians and their pathetic attempt at humor)
People who engage in the Mac v. PC argument
Joe the Plumber

April was too nice to post an f-list although I would be willing to bet she secretly harbors nasty thoughts about styrofoam.

Tracy’s f-list crushed me with her hatred of Prius’s but then she invoked Dr. G and won me over again:

1. The handful of parents at my kids school who have made it so the kids can’t wear their costumes to school on Halloween day or have Christmas parties or pageants – so now we have to have “Winter Party” instead.

2. Prius owners – because unless you crushed your old car you have accomplished nothing. Your old car is still on the road and now you have added another one.

3. Actors/tv shows that use their sitcom/time slot to make their personal political statements. If I wanted to see/hear that I would be watching CNN or Fox. Please give me a warning at the beginning of the show that you are going to throw this in my face so I can go watch something else like Dr. G Medical Examiner.

4. The welfare system

So dear readers I am asking again – for the sake of election year therapeutic purposes – are there any more f-lists out there? I’m collecting assignments in (checks imaginary watch) 48 hours.

…and now I’m off to a weekend at the ocean for a little environmental therapy of my own. Read you in a couple days!

More reasons I am going to Hell:


2007
09.20

#1 – Lee Greenwood’s Proud To Be An American makes me violently ill. I can’t stand it. English does not contain rude enough language to describe what I would like to do to the person who wrote this glurge.

(I bet there’s a trailer park full of people somewhere who would demand that my citizenship be revoked for that confession.)

#2 – I hate it when, after a death has occurred, people say, “I guess God just needed another angel in Heaven…”

Ok, seriously? Gag. Have we turned into a nation of unimaginative pod people who spew sickly sweet sentiment by rote?

I have a request of you folks; when I die I would like anyone who makes it to my funeral to go on the offensive. If someone near you is about to utter the aforementioned, sidle up to them and say something like “I guess Satan just needed another cocksucker to help him get ready for Fred Phelps.”

#3 – A few days ago Armstrong & Getty featured a story about a college kid who had attended some event at his university for the sole purpose of heckling the speakers. After reading the story they ran an audio clip which featured the kid refusing to leave the auditorium, resisting arrest, and being subsequently tasered within an inch of his life while he went all Nancy Kerrigan and screamed “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO MEEEEEE!!! WHY MEEEE??????”

I laughed so hard during this segment that I ended up pulling my truck over because I couldn’t drive.

#4 – In May of 1996, in a cemetery, at a graveside service for my paternal grandfather, my cousin who has Down’s syndrome leaned over to me and relayed the following:

Q: What is better than winning the Special Olympics?
A: Not being fucking retarded.

It wasn’t until he uttered the punchline with emphasis on the word “fucking” that I realized my cousin had actually told me a joke. Then I left my seat. Being afflicted with Down’s meant my cousin got a free pass to yuk it up at funerals but as one of the senior corps of cousins I was still expected to “set an example”. Therefore I banished myself to the rear of the assembly where one of the old VFW fellas who had shown up to perform the military funeral honors patted me on the shoulder and said “I know it’s hard, you must have been close” and I tried to pretend that I was sobbing instead of laughing.

To this day I still don’t know what makes me a worse human being; the fact that I really do think the joke is funny or the fact that I laughed at it during a my grandfather’s funeral.