It’s not her, dood. It’s you.

On the T this morning, I hear this guy getting cell-phone dumped. Looked kinda like the guy to the left, only with more Boston douche flavor. Based on his half of the conversation, I think I know why his squeeze just wasn’t feeling it anymore:

Dumped via Cell Guy:

Like, I feel like, like, that I want this, like, more than you do. It’s like, everything I do or, like, say is like, the wrong thing. Like… you know? Like, when I talk about, like, the future and… stuff, you, like, push me away. You, like, put up these, like … walls. Or something. No, I… Like… Yeah, I d-… Like, I don’t know, what do you want me to, like, you know, like, do? You know? Jeez.

I picture this stereotypical, backward Red Sox ball cap-wearing retahd spending last night with Dump via Cell Phone Girl, who probably got just drunk enough to fuck him one last time. This morning, she couldn’t wait for him to just for God’s sake leave already. She waits until he’s about three T stops away, then she makes the Dump Call. Because every second she spends with this guy, she can feel herself getting more stoopid.

Enjoy the Halloween decorations in the office kitchen!! LOL!

Oh. I see that you’ve scattered little plastic spiders over every horizontal surface in the break room. And you’ve hung bendy skeletons from each and every cabinet handle. That’s… adorable. Now, WHERE AM I SUPPOSED TO PUT DOWN MY GODDAMED MICROWAVED FISH STICKS WHILE I MAKE A CUP OF TEA? And what do you suppose the chances are of those bendy skeletons FALLING INTO MY HOT-ON-THE OUTSIDE, FROZEN-ON-THE-FUCKING-INSIDE FISH STICKS?


P.S. I dipped one of the bendy skeletons in the urinal. But you’ll never know which one. Have a great day.

I do not want your text messages.

And you did it to yourselves, fuckers! I do not do the texting. Hate it. Can't realistically type anything legibly on my toy phone anyway. (Oh, P, Q, R, S are all on the same button, and I have to move the little cursor thing to tell my phone which one of those letters I want to type? That's adorable!) So, I mostly ignore texts, and, to my knowledge, have never responded to a single text. From anyone. But people keep texting me, anyway. "Ron! Why didn't you come to my barbecue??" "Ron, we changed the start time to 11 am, didn't you get my text??" Texting costs money, and AT&T says the only way I can "turn off texting" is to block incoming texts. So that's what I did. It's not that I don't want to hear from you. I love you. I just can't think of a single fucking thing I'd rather do less than texting with you.

10 things you already know...

---

... but I feel compelled to remind you of anyway.

1. Mountain Dew is supposed to be neon yellow. That's how it is found in nature. Making Mountain Dew red, or white, is wrong.

2. The news industry has no real interest in keeping you informed.

3. Steve Jobs was not Jesus. He was a visionary, a super successful CEO, and Technology's Brat Prince. But he couldn't have cured your syphilis or brought Snowball IV back from the dead.

4. If you often describe yourself as "you either love me or you hate me! haha", you should be aware that it's most often the latter.

5. Frantic masturbation interrupted by painting little army men will not get you a job.

6. Congress has no real interest in serving the People.

7. Mitt Romney's political platform is somewhat... mercurial.

8. If you bought one of those "Party Pong" kits at the grocery store, the one that isn't Beer Pong, but contains 12 plastic cups and a ping pong ball, then nothing I could say or do would help you.

9. You can't get away with comparing someone to Hitler anymore, or describing someone as a Nazi. Fortunately, people like Hank Williams, Jr., are around to keep reminding us of this fact.

10. The Corn Refiners Association has no real interest in your health.

And the Interweb Froot Loop of the Week Award goes to...

... Mercy5, who posted this manifesto in the comments section under a review of the Kevin James movie Zookeeper:

Some of you may have heard that the recently released Hangover 2 movie featured a capuchin monkey. Unfortunately, this same capuchin is featured in yet another upcoming movie (as well as an assortment of several other animals), titled The Zookeeper. It premieres on July 8, which just one week away. Please avoid contributing to the box office receipts for this movie—don't go see it!
Capuchin monkeys used for entertainment and kept as pets are typically ripped from their mothers at birth, causing irreparable psychological harm. When they grow too large and strong to be handled, many monkeys are discarded at pseudo-sanctuaries and shoddy roadside zoos because there simply aren't enough reputable sanctuaries to care for them all. Some may spend years and even decades in horrifying conditions after they are no longer useful to their trainers. Additionally, monkeys have complex physical, social, and psychological needs that cannot be met in human homes or training compounds. Life in the entertainment industry denies monkeys proper exercise, natural diets, and interaction with others of their kind. The loss of freedom and independence leads to loneliness, boredom, and depression.
Please spread the word to your friends and encourage them to boycott this movie with you. Let them know that monkeys should not be used in TV and film media, including the reasons listed above. Thank you for speaking up for those who cannot speak for themselves!

Peanut allergy? Tell Jesus I said "hi".

If you're allergic to nuts--and, if I'm to go by those little "may contain traces of peanut molecules" signs I see fucking everywhere, 9 out 10 of the people reading this must be--you might want to avoid Nature Valley peanut butter granola bars, which carry this advisory text:

Contains: peanut, soy; may contain almond and pecan ingredients.

I wonder if they sprinkled a little gluten on top, just so the celiac disease crowd doesn't feel left out?

Basically, if you're allergic to nuts, Nature Valley peanut butter granola bars are an express train to Anaphalactic Shockville. I kind of want to toss an open package of them onto a school bus and yell "Grenade!!!"

Things I hate

Yup. Just that.

Skydiving — I saw a show about Iraq war Army widows, and what does the whole gaggle of them do to prove that 1) they’re alive and, 2) darn it, they’re going to really live! ? They go skydiving. And I swear all those numb numbs writing personal ads must have a macro set up to automatically plugs in the phrase “I’ll try anything once…except skydiving!!! LOL!!!” You know what the opposite of risky is? Skydiving. Those parachutes almost always open. Your first couple jumps, you’re strapped to a safety instructor. You aren’t even given a chance to panic, freeze up, and drill a 10’ deep crater in Sheboygan, Wisconsin. So, just shut it about skydiving, okay?


Mr. Popper’s Penguins — I thought penguins were over. I thought Jim Carrey was over. Who asked for this … well, we’ll call it a movie, but everybody — including the people who made it — knows that it’s really just a two-hour respite for parents during which their kids won’t be squalling, whining, shitting themselves, falling down, or begging for gum.


Viral marketing campaigns — Look; I know it’s a digital world. I fucking hate it, but I recognize its existence. But you know what I’m not going to do? Take the time to figure out that the numbers scrawled on a blackboard in a TV commercial are actually the coordinates of a geocache, and if I drag ass out there and dig it up, it will give me the URL to a super secret insiders-only website that will give me clues to what your new movie is about. Bite my bag, okay? You want me to spend $11.95 to see your movie? Then just tell me what the fuck it’s about, and stop wasting my fucking time.


Movies with “Rise of” in their titles — I read the words “Rise of” and my brain automatically substitutes the word “suck”. Have you ever seen a movie with “Rise of” in the title that didn’t suck? I think movie producers think fan boys think any title with a noun preceded by “Rise of” is epic. One hundred percent of the time, they’re wrong. (Rise of the Dark Knight may prove me wrong. Hey, I hope it does. I really do.)

Gender stereotyping in advertising — If you were an alien watching our media, you would assume the following things:

• Males are generally overweight slobs who are congenitally incapable of remembering dates like anniversaries and birthdays. Females, who are without exception more physically attractive than their mate, have precise biological calendars in their heads, and plan every action around the assumption that their mate will forget the important date.
  


• Males want sex every waking moment. Females never want it, and can only be bribed into sex with gifts of precious minerals.
  


• Besides sex, the only other obsession males have is roasting meat over an open flame. This act produces facial expressions of satisfaction and contentment. Women are obsessed with cleanliness and cleaning products. Cleaning products for the kitchen, bathroom, clothing, their skin and hair, and most importantly, their vagina. Once cleanliness is achieved, females experience rapturous joy, and sometimes sexual pleasure.


• Males and females can agree on nothing. This state of conflict is so ingrained in their psyche that goods and products can be sold simply by showing a male and female arguing about the goods or products.
  


• All post-pubescent males and females are disrespectful, rebellious, selfish, and possibly demonically possessed creatures that bring great discord and sorrow to their family dwelling. Gifts of small electronic devices can, in the short term, bribe the young male or female into once again eating with the family unit and tolerating their presence in the course of daily life.
  

I already hate people, things, and our disgusting consumption-based economy as it is. So I’ll pass on whatever shit you're trying sell me with your broad-stroke advertising, thanks.