Get Off My Lawn

by MyPeeve

I try to do my civic duty in a tiny way. I coordinate the Neighborhood Watch for my neighborhood association. It’s not a big job, but I like to think it helps keep my neighbors informed about occasional crime, bored fuckwit teenagers’ rare tagging in a drainage ditch, lost or stray dogs and cats, whatever.

But it gets really disheartening when I consistently get a long and blathering response from one neighbor in particular. Without fail. Every single time I send out an alert about anything, this bitch has to interject her opinion. Here’s a sample:

Me – “A neighbor reported a burglary on Avenue 9, which occurred approximately midday. It was reported to the police. No other information is available at this time. Please alert your blocks.”

Dumb Ass Neighbor’s response:

Thanks for the info. Before I got this e-mail I called 5 of my neighbors to alert them to the fact that there were two burglaries on Fred Street yesterday. My friend, Lola, on Jennifer Avenue saw it on a web site she looks at all the time called somecrime.com. I haven’t looked at it yet, but I am planning to. She said that they don’t give the exact location of the crimes but that they give you what has happened recently with your zip code information. Thank you again. I will let them know…………again, these are two streets on the outlying areas of the neighborhood……easy on and easy off, as the police officer told us. I think these people like to do this stuff when the weather is good. That’s the ONLY reason I would look forward to the freezing cold weather we are due to have next week. Isn’t today beautiful……..it’s why we live in Texas. My daughter in Pennsylvania has a 2 and 5 year old and she is totally tired of all the snow. We’ll keep a look out.

Really. This is an actual email. I just cut and pasted it. The names have been changed to protect Teh Stupid. But that’s it. Now, for the love of Mike, GET OFF MY LAWN!

by Lady Jane Grey

As a person of the feminine persuasion, I am constantly amazed by the level that so-called “women’s” magazines will stoop to in order to attempt to sell me their product. Sure, everyone loves learning about new sexual positions, products that will save you time at home or at work, and about the hilarious horror stories that result from having a uterus, but seriously, peeps, I do NOT want to read any of the following stories, EVER:

1. Celebrity Couple Dating!

Brangelina vs Jennifer Aniston is, like, 10 years old. But they are STILL flogging this horse. Give it up, and while you’re at it, I don’t care who ANY of your celebutards are dating this week. It’s musical beds, anyway, so why am I expected to be taking up mental real estate with these pointless details? If I ever need to know who was fucking whom in the late ’80s, there’s always Wikipedia.

2. How to Drive Him Wild in Bed!

Not that I don’t have an interest in driving him wild, but let’s be honest: these tips are recycled every month, and the positions are just given new, “cheekier” names. Oh, and by the way, why is it assumed that I’m NOT driving him wild in bed? For that matter, why is it assumed that he drives ME wild in bed, and where are HIS tips on getting all up ons? Now THAT would be a sexy take on a very old, worn-out pair of panties, my friend.

3. Buy This and You Can Look Like [INSERT CELEB OF THE MONTH]!

No, I cannot. No, I will not. No, I do not want any of these products. See #1 for why I don’t care about celebrities, but add to that the fact that 99.9% of them have no taste whatsoever. Do not tell me it is the “hot new trend.” I want to buy things that I like, rather than things you tell me are good. You don’t know shit. And neither does Celebutard Of The Month.

4. Amazing True Tales About the Time I Had My Period and Something Went Awry!

No shit, really? Something embarrassing happened while your uterus was trying to turn itself inside out like in the movie Aliens? How could that ever happen? I’m flabbergasted! Seriously. Women bleed for a week, once a month? This is news to me! Share with me more of these exciting and entertaining feminine factoids before I put this magazine down to buy another!!

5. Cute Boy Alert!

A certain “feminist” magazine does this one, and it bugs the everloving shit out of me. Sure, I am interested in “boys,” as you call them. (Men, actually, as I am a 30+ woman.) I like to listen to bands made up of males, read books written by people with goatees, enjoy the movies of people with penises. But for shit’s sake, lady, this is supposed to be a WOMEN’S MAGAZINE where we embrace WOMANITY! I can find out more than enough about the menfolk from all of THEIR magazines, plus all the “general interest” magazines that assume having a dick is the norm. How about we leave the dudes out of our clubhouse for one second, and talk about the unsung feminine heroes of music, film, literature and art? Cus frankly, I would like to see more names than the oft-heralded Margaret Cho held up as examples. (No offense, Margaret. You are beautiful and hilarious and I will one day attend one of your super shows. Really.)

P.S. I don’t need to “get to know” the lead singer from Weezer; he’s been making music for almost 20 goddamn years now. At least pick someone who is a BOY for your Cute Boy Alert!

GAH!!!

by I Can't Hear YOU

Someone needs to create a sarcasm font.

Clearly, there are many, many people that are so tone deaf that they wouldn’t know sarcasm if it came up and hit them.

Take social media like Twitter. If I post a sarcastic comment, a CLEARLY sarcastic comment, why do some take it upon themselves to “correct” me?

I really don’t need your input, dickwad. I was making a joke. Generally speaking, one can only make jokes about things they understand.

ERGO:

1) I know what I’m talking about.
2) I understand it better than you.
And 3) You must not have been hugged enough as a child.

I really don’t need your pseudo-intellectualism, thank you very much.

I am also very sorry that you are stupid.

That said, get off my lawn.

by myerman

Sad to say, but if you’re the kind of person who lives their life via astrological symbols, you’re a hopeless nitwit.

Now, I’m not talking about the kind of person who reads their horoscope out of the daily newspaper in the morning, shrugs, and then goes on with their day. Or the kind of person who is aware that being born on June 5 makes them a Gemini.

No, I’m talking about the kind of person who will break up with a perfectly lovely person because their signs don’t match. Or gets worked up when “they” add a 13th symbol to the zodiac and now find themselves a Libra when before they were a Crocodile or whatever. Or know what other celebrities share their sign and then only go to see their movies and try to dress like them and maybe even cover their own back with tattoos of all the zodiac symbols and….

Look, people, this is made-up fairy tale shit. Lean in real close and I’ll tell you a few more secrets: that pedo-guy with the big red suit? Goes down your chimney on December 25? Doesn’t exist either. Neither does the easter bunny.

Listen, the building you’re sitting in has more of a gravitational effect on you than the distant stars. Why the hell would the stars and planets care that you see pretty patterns from your perspective? They’re stars! They can’t hear you scream.

PS. Adding a 13th symbol here is gonna HURT.

by midnightferret

When a bar, restaurant, or club posts an event on Facebook for the same evening, and then yammers about how great whatever it is will be and how all the cool kids will be there, and how if I don’t attend I will be killing thousands of kittens, it almost makes me want to change the plans I have probably already made just to go to the event and possibly sabotage it in some manner.*

Social media can be a great tool. Users of social media can be even greater tools! I’m sure all your regulars are aware of your awesome event, but if you are actually trying to get more bodies to come through your doors, posting a Facebook event at 12:30 on the same afternoon as your “Dress As Your Favorite Soda Can to Save Endangered Jackalopes” party isn’t going to get results. You’re just going to end up with your usual Tuesday night crowd. If you’re lucky, they might wear tinfoil hats and give you an extra dollar tip to put toward the endangered jackalope fund. If your party/event is so important, then for godsake promote it better! At the very least, advertise it enough in advance that interested parties might actually have the time to plan to attend. If you can’t be bothered to do so, well, get off my lawn!

*Author’s Note: I cannot be more specific about the methods by which I might sabotage this hypothetical event because of the possibility of some kind of repercussion. The internet is a dangerous place, and I don’t want to be arrested for hypothetically sabotaging a hypothetical event in a hypothetical manner. You see what we, as a society, have come to. Don’t get me started on that one.

by MyPeeve

Wake up America. We are in the 21st century now. You can sign that document electronically. Stop wasting my time and my printer paper on your stupid, old-fashioned company policies.

Don’t believe me? Here. Here is the very boring document for Public Law 106-229, which was signed by President Clinton and went into effect on October 1, 2000. Yeah, it’s been that long!

http://www.fca.gov/download/public%20law%20106-229%20e-sign.pdf

So, the next time you send me a document from your old-world publishing company, your real estate company, your accounting department, or any other out-of-touch industry, please refer to the aforementioned document. I’m tired of having to remind you of it and frankly, I’m not signing your paper contracts ever again. Get used to it and WELCOME to 2011.

by myerman

Dear Person with Stick Figure Decals on your Vehicle,

Thank you for sharing your unnatural sex drive with us. You’ve apparently not received the memo that in the 21st century, modern medicine allows most children to survive past their fifth birthday. Oh, and for shit’s sake you don’t live on a farm and don’t need to bring in the harvest, so STOP PROCREATING!

Also, many thanks for not only adding more people to an already overburdened planet, but also for having to resort to owning a gas-guzzling eco-killer SUV to drive your multiple spawn to soccer matches and tae-kwan do lessons (where they’ll all get medals and trophies for coming in 13th place).

I admit that I’d enjoy these decals more if they actually depicted the kind of people you really meet in suburbia: the career-focused and balding husband, the still beautiful but totally ignored wife, the goth daughter with the multiple face studs and mohawk, the skate rat son with mono, and a spunky rescue mutt with more personality and smarts than the rest of them combined.

PS. Sexual predators also appreciate the head’s up you’re giving them–not only your children’s genders but relative size and age. Bravo!

PPS. In the image below, doesn’t it look like the “oldest daughter” might be a second wife? It’s a polygamist stick figure family!

UPDATE:

A dear friend of the site pointed out that the best stick figure family decal ever is this. I think I agree.

by midnightferret

Attention, mindless inhabitants of the internet: please look at all your goddamn food pictures before you plaster them all over your blog, Facebook profile, poorly done website, ass, or what-have-you. Please, just look at those pictures! Food photographs poorly. Extremely poorly. So poorly, in fact, that

If your food photo looks as delicious as this one, you have failed.

often, professional photographers will photograph “faux” food when a picture of food is absolutely necessary. I ask you, uneducated masses of the digital universe, if it’s necessary for professionals to craft fake food just to take an appetizing picture for a restaurant menu, then why in the name of everything unholy do you think you can do better?

For example, the barbecue ribs of which you want all of your Facebook friends to gasp in awe are not, in fact, “Yum,” as you have so glibly labeled them. Instead, they appear as if some unidentifiable and geriatric creature got hit by a semi, its ribs were locked in a closet in the desert for about four weeks before subsequently being coated in some shiny alien ooze. Nevermind the lumpy half-melted yellow modeling clay and greasy rabbit pellets next to your so-called “yummy” ribs. That isn’t “Yum,” my friend (and by “my friend” I mean “person I wish had never been born because your disgusting picture has put me off my truly delicious lunch”).  If you had only just looked at that rib photo before you hit “share,” I might not have been bombarded with an image that may put me off barbecue, or at least off ribs, for the next several weeks. I live in Texas, damn you! I deserve to have an appetite for ribs! Instead, I have a vague nauseated feeling because you can’t tell the difference between an appetizing food photo and a photo that looks like something out of Alien Autopsy. How in hell is that fair?!

by myerman

If your social media profile picture features the pout, then I can only assume you’re an idiot.

I assume this because you’re not really sad–you’re too young in that picture to be sad. If you want, I can give you something to pout about, like an aching sacroilliac or maybe my bad knee joints or something. Or hey, how about all the stock options that never went anywhere after 10+ years in the high tech world. How about that?

Another possibility is that you were raised by wolves and were never taught to smile. I kind of understand this, as I’m not a “naturally smiley” guy myself (and yes, I was raised by wolves). Usually, though, I do that stare down thing, which may look foolish but avoids that unfortunate air of constipated duck that you’re going for.

Of course, maybe I just don’t get it. Back when I was a kid, the only guy who pouted in pictures was Michael Jackson. For those of you who don’t remember, he was the guy who had lots of great songs before he became a freaky (alleged) child molesting perv. So if that’s the association you’d like me to make when I see your profile picture on Facebook or Twitter, well then….

by midnightferret

That’s right. Oh yeah. You’re too cool for Sunday school. You’re giving the middle finger to the camera, and ohmygawd you posted it on the internet where everyone can see it! Even *gasp* your mother!

It’s a bold move. An edgy, possibly offensive, awesome way to tell everyone, “Step off! Don’t judge me!”

Well, guess what, edgy camera-flipper-offer? You’re an idiot. This is exponentially true if you are over, say, 15 years old. I am judging you. I’m judging you so hard right now. And you know how I’m judging you? You are now labeled as the “Immature Social Paraplegic of the Century.” You’re not fit for conversation, to take up my time, or even to be catching my vague attention in between surfing Cake Wrecks and clipping my fingernails.

Oh, I’m not puritanical or anything. I’m not even offended. If I feel anything, I suppose it’s disappointment. It’s as if I’ve entered a cocktail party and the hostess says delightedly, “I know what we can do! Let’s make a mixtape!” (That’s “mix CD” or “playlist” for the thankless younger generations. Don’t get me started.)

Maybe all you middle finger photo enthusiasts can have a convention somewhere. Somewhere nice, like Antarctica. In any case, get off my lawn.