I used a program to delete all of my posts and comments at once. It took some time since it went post by post, but I didn’t want any of my intellectual property making money for a company that continues to shit all over users.

Spez can go fuck himself with a hot metal fork.

Nothing, not an act of a higher power nor the full force of government action, could compel me to drop a deuce off at the motor pool in a public bathroom.

I’d rather die from a perforated colon and subsequent infection.

It’s because in this country, toxic masculinity dictates that the only acceptable way to relate to another guy is by talking about sports. Imagine having such a fragile ego that the only way you know how to talk to another man is to take turns reciting what you heard on ESPN. Otherwise you might get called gay, which to them is some kind of insult to their masculinity.

Meanwhile, they’re getting an attitude with each other about a game where the guys pat each other on the ass after a good play.

There’s a restaurant in Florida called “The Ormond Garage” and they don’t serve fries with the burger. It’s another like $6 for fries that aren’t even that good. I went there once and they didn’t have to go cups for the meal that I called in… The server told me she could get me a regular cup and I could just drink it there while they were putting my $15 burger into a takeout box.

I contemplated walking out with the beer glass they handed me, but I just left.

I hate to be a pedant, but he “pled” guilty.

Saying “pleaded” is like saying that you “shitted” your pants.

I quit Lowe’s a few months ago and they mistakenly gave me an exit interview. Not only did I put my grievances in writing, but I was adamant that the “HR” person typed what I was saying verbatim.

There’s no point in those interviews unless you say what needs to be said.

I was talking to a friend recently and mentioned that Lil Debbie Fudge Rounds used to be the same diameter as the “Double Decker” ones.

Now they’re smaller than the diameter of an air hockey puck. And don’t even get me started on how regular Oreo Cookies used to look like the double stuff Oreos. The gall to cut the product in half, add the other half back to it, then charge more and have the balls to call it “double…”

You’re not wrong.

How is it any different that grown men with obligations standing around at work, not working, regurgitating stats they heard on Sports Center that morning and arguing over which guy they like on the team, as if they have any stake whatsoever in either team?

Some people like things, some people don’t. It’s just petty and frankly childish to have that “my team can beat your team” mentality because let’s face it, it’s just a grown up version of “my daddy can beat up your daddy.”

I have a friend that became one of those people after high school. She made a killing for a few years from whacky people who wanted her to make the placenta into Christmas ornaments… She tried showing me photos of her stretching it over glass balls but I couldn’t stomach it.

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