Thursday, January 7, 2010

Football Pansies.


I hate football in a BIG way. I don't understand it for one thing. But the true source of my deep hatred is due to the way that adults become bickering children because of it. Seriously?! It's a game. I'm joking when I say your cheerleaders look like men and your team's playing reminds me of my niece's ballet recital. Can't you tell I'm joking?! Oh wait, I guess not since you just started stomping your feet and screaming in a high-pitched tone that sounds as though your testicles haven't fully descended. Bummer, move along baby cakes.

I was told tonight that I'm not a true Texan if I choose to support the opposing team? For those of you who know me, I don't put much thought or feeling into what I say or do. I don't give two hoots for Alabama, but I don't give two hoots for UT either. I'm a Red Raider, we inherently hate the Longhorns. Also, we had to sign a contract to never cheer for them but shhhhh.

Football is not some conspiracy. Nor is it worth fighting about. Nor should it determine your mood for the next 3 days. Gosh, I wish people put this much attention into politics or foreign affairs or maybe even to the fact that your 13-year-old is smoking crack. Whatev...get that touchdown! All I'm saying is liiiiiighten up, people! Can't we all insult each other's teams in humor and then go get some chicken wings?!

Wreck 'Em BIG, Tech.

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Geezers and Facebook.

When did Facebook become so appealing to geezers? I miss the days where it was considered nonsense to anyone nearing or above the age of menopause. Guess things have changed, huh? For instance, both of my parents and my nearly 70-year-old grandmother have and operate Facebook. But they're not even my complaint. My complaint is how adults from my past have now chosen to utilize this social media outlet as a tool to critique my thoughts, opinions, and what-not to tailor to what they feel I should think or do. Bite me. My mom and dad see what I post daily and say nothing. I'm not profane, thought I would love to be to you, Miss Get a Grown-Up Life.

I recently removed my relationship status and political views just to shut some old women up.

"Oh, Sam. I see your single. You just hold out, honey. In the mean time, would you like to come knitting. I can show you how to fix you hair into something much more becoming." Witch.

And let's not even get started on what you might have to say about my political views when you have no clue how ignorant you really sound.

You know, I've been socializing just fine my entire life without the interference of adults. I didn't see any of you coming to play on the jungle gym with us, so stay off Facebook. I don't curse or post pictures slandering my reputation. I really do intend on getting a job one day, ya know.

So, I have created a list of DON'Ts for today's old farts.
1) If you must use Facebook, don't add someone younger than you unless you're as hip as them. Don't know if you are, then you aren't.

2) Don't ask us who we're texting. If we wanted you to know, we'd call them. Texting was invented to assist you in minding your own damn business.

3) Don't talk about your sex life. It's gross and we will hate you for it.

4) Don't reprimand us for saying something you don't understand. Case and point, I called something "ballin'" yesterday, and my mother scolded me assuming I was comparing that something to the male scrotum.

5) Don't wear low-rise jeans unless you are in-fact not altered by childbirth and still able to pull it off. Most likely, you're not.

6) Don't talk about our habits in front of total strangers.

7) Don't scream at us just because you can.

8) Don't assume we're stupid; it makes you sound stupid.

9) Don't talk about how you had to hike through the snow to get to school. Lies.

10) And last, but not least, don't comment on our Facebooks in an attempt to "correct our ways". Oh wait, there's a block button. Hello block button.

And a word of advice, one day this generation you're treating like crap and invading on their personal space is going to be feeding you and wiping your butt. Remember that or we may just forget to pay your electric bill that month. Whoops.

Go to MySpace, oldies.