miscellaneous

• Getting up to walk a puppy at four a.m. can fuck off.  With cheez.  

•  Not being able to get to sleep before midnight, for whatever reason, when I know I'm going to be getting up at 4:00, 6:30, and for the last time at 7:00 can take a flying leap off the purple people-eater from my nightmare between 6:30 and 7:00, and swan dive into an indigo fuck off.

•  Students who can't read a schedule of due dates, assignment sheets, or step-by-step instructions with pictures to fucking do something fucking right the first fucking time can fuck off--but they probably won't know how, and would want someone to do it for them.  

• Politicians and politics.  And people who are fervent true believers in a particular political ideology to the point that they're still campaigning for Toad Akin can fuck right the fucking fuckety fuck off.

• Cancer.  Cancer can fuck off and die.  

• Obamacare, its authors, and each and every fucktard fuckstick that fucking voted for it, as well as that traitorous fuck on the fucking Supreme Fucking Court can fuck off so hard that their ancestors and  descendants to the eighteenth generation can feel violated.  You fucking cockbiting fuckbaits just fucking insured that we won't fucking find a fucking cure for any-fucking-thing, much less fucking cancer.  

• Entitlement spending, and the proponents thereof, can fuck off with a copy of Dave Ramsey's collected works on how money works, how to create and maintain a budget, and how to get out (and stay out) of debt turned sideways, folded until it's all corners, and jammed up their collective ass, just like they've done with the debt to the rest of us.

• Meetings, bureaucrats, paperwork, and stupid hoops to make the bosses feel like their job is more important than the workers' jobs can fuck off.

Thanks For Nothing

Passive-aggressive, ridiculously conditional "friends" can fuck off.

Other than that, I'm good. Get it out of your system and have a great weekend.

Late

Oops. Forgot again. Commence Friday Fuck Offing....

Did I forget again last week? Ugh.

Anyhoo...the stoplights in this town can fuck off for being all off-kilter. And closing off a chunk of L.A. two weeks before the Oscars can fuck off. Look, I want to protect our pretty people as much as the next guy. But come on....

Have at it.

Nothing

I got nothing. It's been an OK week for me. Go ahead, y'all.

Memory Hole

I can fuck off for completely forgetting last week's FFOT. Sorry 'bout that, folks. Feel free to make up for lost time with double the complaints.

The Whole Bloody Week

Can just fuck off. I'm ready for a Saturday.

How 'bout y'all?

OOPS!

Forgot it was Friday. The spammer who sends me 20 e-mails a day hawking Viagra can fuck off.

Sorry I was late. Take it away.

I can fuck off for following the whole Casey Johnson/Tila Tequila/Nicky Hilton-rescues-the-dogs saga. I mean, really. What is this? American culture bottoming out? I don't think I've seen a public scandal composed of so many useless, brain-dead people in my life. I can't stop watching it. It's pointless. It's stupid. It's....what we deserve after a decade of "reality" television.

I can also fuck off for what I'm about to write below. Feel free to second that motion if you find my thoughts distasteful, but...

Where did the notion that we're not supposed to speak ill of the dead originate, anyway? Two weeks ago, if I had called Casey Johnson (and yes, unfortunately, I'd heard of her before she died) a cokehead slut of a worthless, spoiled bint, everyone who knew who she was, with few exceptions, would have cheered me on. Now that she's dead, probably having ushered her own demise, I'm supposed to talk about tragedy and act like the minions of Satan swiped an angel from Earth. I know there are the feelings of the family to factor in - but in Johnson's case, we're talking about the enablers that turned her into the selfish, indulgent, incurious twit that only cared about money, parties and undeserved fame. You don't become a creature like that without a little help. This is a girl who got her first Gucci purse at the age of ten. Any sadness I feel for Casey Johnson's passing is only that she wasn't brought up to be a better person and that she arrived to adulthood in this ridiculous age where we award ill-behaved, self-absorbed, vapid shitstains for their idiotic and self-centered attitudes by making them famous. I'm not being naive, here. I know there's always been a seedy underbelly to the jet set and people who make the gossip pages, but never, ever before has it been flaunted so shamelessly until the last few years. "Hi! I'm stupid! I'm selfish! I think I'm awesome! I treat other people like crap! My biggest goal in life is to be drunk by eleven! I literally have no talent, little education, don't know who the Vice President of the United States is and think Nairobi is the name of an energy drink! Take my picture and put me on TV!"

Fuck. Go at it, ya'll. I've got a headache.

Merry Fucking Christmas

It seems so wrong to tell someone to fuck off on Christmas, so I won't be doing it tomorrow, but I wanted to make sure the thread was here in case anyone needed it in the event of a drunk uncle/challenging family crisis. You know, escape to the toilet with a mobile device and tell your Auntie Margaret who asks you every year why you aren't married yet to go shove a garden gnome up her ass or something.

Just in case. Merry fuckin' Christmas.

I Knew There Was A Reason I Never Liked Reality

Reality TV can officially fuck off. It was easy enough to ignore before. I was a snob about it at first, but learned not to be. Everybody has their own form of mindless entertainment. When it was confined to evening broadcasts that I never watched anyway, it didn't bother me. Let cable television come up with the raunchiest, tackiest premise for a show. Who can sell a kidney on the black market the fastest - winner gets a million dollars and seven-and-a-half minutes of fame! Put ten married guys in a room filled with Playboy bunnies and the last guy who doesn't dip his wick wins an Aston Martin and a free hair transplant. "Survivor: Mid-Life Crisis." Whatever.

Well, you know what? I'm back to being a fucking snob about it. Now that these attention-starved morons have trickled in to the real news so that CNN's headlines run like this:

*146 Killed In Afghanistan Attack
*Jon Gosselin Buys A Tube Of Toothpaste

I am officially pissed the fuck off. We've got jackass moron dipshits pulling stupid stunts, manipulating everything from White House security to their own fucking children in some desperate, idiotic, fuckbrained attempt to get their own goddammm reality show. Enough with this Look-At-Me-Me-Me-Me-Me bullshit. If you give a crap about the Gosselins getting divorced outside of a fleeting pinch of sympathy for their children, if you keep up with the Kardashians, if you watch "Jersey Shore" just so you can feel smug because you are not a big enough doofus to actually give yourself a nickname like "The Situation" without a hint of irony, you can FUCK OFF. I know, for a while it was kind of fun, watching in horror and thinking "at least I'm not that dumb," but when we've come to the point where television programming is saturated with Stupid Fucking Asshole shows that millions watch just to feel better because they're not that low, we're talking about a cultural vacuum waiting to happen.

Mark my fucking words. I'm sick to fucking death of the age of No-Talent Celebrity being shoved in my face through the mainstream news. Keep that shit confined to trashy tabloids and gossip sites, but KEEP IT OUT OF THE FUCKING REAL NEWS.

Okay, now it's your turn.

It's Called Weather. Deal.

Southern Californians who bitch and moan when the temperature dips below 65 degrees Farenheit can fuck off. There are these things called "sweaters" and "jackets" and "blankets" for you to endure the two weeks of Winter Holocaust we all have been plagued to suffer by angry gods. Other people elsewhere need them in September when you can still surf in your skivvies and yet continue to complain that it's too hot. 350 days out of the year you are blessed with a climate that can only be described as perfect. Shut UP.

Go on, the rest of yous. What do you have for us this week?

Dear Youtube

Dear Youtube,
I didn't complain when you started showing commercials before and between some of your videos. I'm getting your services for free, after all. I got peeved when some of the adverts became flashy and oversized, but still held back from groaning. I don't even make a fuss about the sound on some clips being disabled. It's not your fault there are people who think they deserve a fat check every time three notes of their music moves between a pair of human ears. But now you've started putting commercials at the top of your "related videos" that sit on the right sidebar - commercials that are in no way whatsoever related to the feature I happen to be watching. That's stupid. It's low. And with competitors like Hulu on the rise and undoubtedly many more to come, if you keep this shit up, you'll be as irrelevant as AOL in the age of Google.

Fuck off,
Me.

Friday Comes On A Wednesday

It's unlikely I'll be near a computer on Friday and I suspect that will be the case for many others. If you wind up going shopping, don't get trampled. I hope everyone has a nice Thanksgiving. If you've got any Fuck Offs, get 'em out of your system now before you head off to celebrate.

Cheers.

This Is So Important I Must Drop It In Your Lap And Go Home

People who come to you with a Very! Urgent! Matter! at the end of the day and then inform you that they are leaving to go home can fuck off. If it's so fucking important you expect me to drop everything, it should be important enough to spend an extra five fucking minutes at your job. A little effort above and beyond to get things done never killed anyone.

And the boss who actually spoke the words "You're a little ditzy sometimes but you're a good girl" to Laura's Daughter can Fuck Off With Knobs On (see last week's thread). Condescending fuckwad.

Your turn.

Just Another Friday

I got nothing. It's all yours.

Fucking Vague

Self-absorbed, pretentious assholes who think they're infinitely smarter when they are, in fact, quite fucking dumb can fuck off.

Yanquis - Fuck Off

Fuck the Yankees.

That is all.

Grow Up, Fuckhead

To one of the emotionally stunted fuckwits I work around who routinely decides he is mad at someone for something totally stupid and random that no sane person would expect another to get angry about that shuns people for days by not talking to them and being a fucking all-around dickhead: grow the fuck up. You are two years away from being eligible to collect Social Security, not a twelve-year-old boy who just lost at tug rope.

And run-on sentences can fuck off, too.

It's all yours.

That's IT. "REALITY TV" Can Suck My Balls.

If all that balloon boy shit from yesterday turns out to be attention whores using general public concern for the well-being of children that were just whoring for attention, for the first time in my life, I'm going to advocate a public mob gathering on somebody's front lawn.

With apologies to those of you that actually enjoy reality television, but Jeebus fucking Kryste. I'm sick of the age of instant celebrity, just add "reality" premise. I'm sick of useless pieces of shit like Jon and Kate being shoved in my face every fucking day just for going about the business of life. Celebrity stalking is bad enough when it involves people that actually have a talent for something and who are primarily famous for that said talent over the fact that they merely exist. Now we've got idiots who are famous just for letting a camera crew film their fucking every move, who then in turn crab to MORE cameras about how they don't have any privacy.

What the FUCK are we turning in to? We're either genuinely interested in watching the lives of white fucking trash unfold, or we're of such ridiculously low character that we've taken pleasure into tuning in to this shit just to feel better about ourselves. If you actually watch this crap to gratify stupid feelings of personal superiority, you are FUCKED UP.