Monday, June 6, 2011

Sit the Fuck Down

Sorry, I know you missed me. But I do things on the weekend like get drunk and volunteer. I can't ALWAYS be updating this. To be honest, today I really have nothing to say. So, I'll do what all great bloggers do-steal stuff from someone else.

The other day Katie and I were discussing the rise of men thinking they deserve too much (maybe they think this about women too, but I don't have a heterosexual dick, so I don't know). Like, fat mother fuckers thinking they deserve super models. Or balding ass dudes with no education thinking that your skinny college educated ass ain't good enough for them. What the hell is wrong with these people? It's cool to have standards, but let's be real- Half the people expecting the world hardly deserve a fucking street corner in East St. Louis. Unless you are exceptional in more ways than one, you need to reassess what you want. And 99.9% of us are not exceptional (sorry).


One of my FAVORITE blogs is "Bitches Gotta Eat." The girl who writes it is funny and vulgar and real. And she wrote on just this topic. She developed a series of questions to ask yourself (or a friend) and see if you "might want to just shut the fuck up and be nice". Here it is: 
so here is the "you probably need to sit the fuck down" self-assessment mini quiz. try to answer the shit honestly. better yet, answer the questions and hand them to someone willing to shatter your ego.

question one: what do you know? this seems like an easy one, right? NOT SO FAST. let's say my answer is music. well, that is most certainly true. i own a great deal of music, i listen to thousands of bands, i've been to dozens of shows. but i wouldn't have the first idea how to write a music review. or how to describe that one thing that guy does with the guitar that i like. or the name of that new art rock band all the college kids are listening to. and i can't tell you much about classic rock either. or jazz. or funk. or punk. and i don't know a whole lot about the musicians themselves, except i just read about lady gaga on the cover of us weekly, so does that count? i've never sat front row, i don't know shit about mixing, i can't tell you anything about grizzly bear other than "veckatimest is a really good record," so basically i guess what i'm trying to say is i don't really know that much about music and i should probably SIT THE FUCK DOWN.

question two: what skills do you possess? according to the match.com profile i recently took down, i am a fantastic cook. and i do make a delicious curry chicken and i have a lovely zucchini bread recipe i've been known to make on occasion. and if being a fantastic cook meant having three recipes in your memorized arsenal, than i might qualify. what i really am good at is following printed directions and setting the oven at the right temperature. oh, and i can measure the hell out of some ingredients once i'm told what they are, what quantity is necessary, and in what order they need to be added to the pot. so what i'm really good at is reading, i guess? except i can only read things that aren't complicated, so no phyllo dough or rolling my own pie crusts. and, as a matter of fact, i don't much like cooking large pieces of beef. and i'll only make drop cookies. muffins stress me out. risottos require too much work, souffles too much precision. i don't like touching egg yolks, bone-in meats are distressing, and you can forget about whole chickens or turkeys. BLARF. ground beef grosses me out, i refuse to chop anything that won't fit in the cuisinart because of this stupid arthritis, peeling potatoes is boring, and i will never in life deal with large squash. so what i should probably do is take my bowl of pasta into the corner and SIT THE FUCK DOWN.

question three: what do you own? um...i can tell you what i don't own: a house, a summer house, a condominium, a boat, a car, a pair of shoes that cost more than $70, nice jewelry, a decent watch, high value stock. i have a couple ipods, a computer i need to upgrade that was a gift from charles so i can't even take credit for its purchase, a bed that needed to be replaced two years ago, a bunch of fancy cookware that i could do without since i mostly eat lean cuisines, some t-shirts from old navy, a little piece of shit cat that i hate, some books. should i continue? or are you already on your way to my apartment to steal my granny cart and massive collection of brightly-colored socks? the most expensive thing i own barely even works. fucking sprint and their fucking EVO can eat my poo. bla-arf. i have a kindle, so that's nice, and i get four netflix at a time, which would be something to be proud of if everyone on the planet who isn't living in the technological dark ages wasn't already streaming 100 movies a day through their game consoles. while you're picking out your instant movies, i'll be over here waiting for disc five season three of the wire that won't be here for two days because i sent the last one back on friday and now i have to wait the whole weekend to find out what happens next SITTING THE FUCK DOWN.

question four: how physically attractive are you? i would go out on a limb and say not at all, but i have had sex with a couple of really good-looking people so i'm not sure that's entirely true. marginally is probably a safer answer. i expect this is the answer people are most likely to overinflate, so really look in the mirror at all of your acne scars and brown teeth and stop kidding yourself. keeping in mind that everyone has his type, most people you know aren't ridiculous hot. at least not hot enough to justifying acting as big an asshole as they do. and while a good personality can turn a quasimodo into prince fucking charming, let's leave this in the shallow end of the pool. i'd be set if dudes could stick their dicks in my jokes, but since this flabby crippled body comes with them, my chances hover around the slim to none range when it comes to getting laid with the recurrence and frequency that my ego would like to. barf i'm too exhausted to have sex, but you know what the fuck i mean. the validation you get from being able to turn down a boner connected to a handsome, interesting person is just as good sometimes. especially when the naproxen is too far to reach without getting up from the bed. thank horus i'm sitting down so hard on this one I'M HORIZONTAL.

question five: do people like you? on second thought, THIS might be the one people are the most clueless about. my answer is yes, but only on the internet. just like everybody else on the planet i have, like, six real friends. don't bullshit me, you fakers. facebook friends and bitches you recognize from high school in the grocery store DO NOT COUNT. i'm talking real people that you have actual conversations with on a weekly basis. i'm talking people who will pick you up from the airport or visit you in the hospital; hoes who will spend a saturday afternoon goofing around in target with you or help you move out of one three-story walk-up into another. ON A HOT DAY. oh, there's no one in your life who fits that description? then you don't have any friends, son. sorry to break it to you. but don't feel bad, i spend most of my time alone watching television and cursing the outside world, too. whilst SEATED.

by this point you should probably be humbled to the point of suicide, but if somehow you aren't feel free to ask yourself how much money do i really make? (not enough to be impressive.) and what cool shit am i into that sets me apart from all these other assholes? (absolutely nothing.) there are a lot more, but i'm sure you get my point. and if you don't, console yourself with the knowledge that you are the human manifestation of said point. anyway, i'm not that awesome, and neither are you. so let's rejoice in our regularity.
 I know a ton of people who would do well to look through this and rethink what they are expecting the world to give to them.

1 comment:

  1. I read this shit out loud to one of my friends, a few nights before you posted this.

    Da bitch ain't neva lied!

    ReplyDelete