Aging Sorostitutes

If you have to regularly talk about your fraternity or sorority, and you’re over the age of 30, please recognize that everyone feels a little bit bad for you that you can’t let go of the past. Your life makes me sad.

Hey Jenni (of course it’s with an i), you’re almost 40, you have some pretty significant wrinkles, and you’re standing here chanting your little sluthouse mantra. You’re depressing everyone. Let it go.

Guys, you’re not exempt from this. When you incessantly talk about house cups and keg stands with your bros, the rest of us pity the fact that the best time of your life was a decade ago and you feel the need to revisit those memories on a regular basis.

Disclaimer: I was in a co-ed service fraternity in college, and was the president of my pledge class.


Can I “Quote” You on That?

If you have to “use” quotation marks, make sure to use “them” correctly. That’s not the only problem, however…

Good heavens. You people make word’s plural by adding an apostrophe and an s at the end of word’s, you capitalize common Nouns, and you don’t know how, to use, commas correctly. You rely completely on spellcheck because you can’t remember when i comes before e. You’ve thrown out all the rules of proper grammar and you’ve replaced them with nonsensical abbrvs and shorthand.

I’ve had enough.

If you put “CHICKEN NOODLE” SOUP on your specials board, I have to assume that I will find neither chicken nor noodles in my soup bowl. Is it tofu? Are those things maggots? Maybe I should try your “DIET” SODA.

I saw a sign that said “PLEASE” NO LOITERING. What does that even mean?!

It’s Just All So Gross

If you have to be snobby, be unapologetic about it, and realize that your snobbiness is just a part of your personality–just like Tim’s revolting slobbiness is what makes him the man who makes the rest of us want to vom.

It has come to my attention that I’m a snob. I don’t really care what you (or anyone else) might think about that.

1) I think and/or say the word “eww” at least 50 times a day
2) I usually look at other people with an expression that’s a cross between disgust and pity
3) I get really bored in uninteresting conversations
4) I think most people could improve themselves by being just a little more like me
5) I’m relatively unapologetic about 1-4

You’re smoking a cigarette on the sidewalk and I have to walk by you? Eww.

You’re talking about Fifty Shades of Grey in the office? Eww. (Also, have you seen how fugly the author is? Eww.)

You’re using the pen that the waitress gave you with the bill? Eww.

You like mayonnaise? Eww.

It goes like this all day.

Just &@$%ing Do It Already

If you have to make a major life change, do it. Do it now. Don’t taper down gradually from eight cans of Coke a day to zero. Just stop it entirely NOW. That’s 1120 calories a day. Change nothing else, and you’ll lose a pound in three days. Switch to black coffee, and you won’t have caffeine withdrawal headaches. It’s a big change; you’re used to having a can attached to your palm for ten hours of the day. It’ll seem weird and you’ll be cranky, but just shut your mouth and do it. Don’t give up.

Want to start running? Strap on your stupid shoes and get out there. The best way to start doing it is to start doing it. Get it?

I don’t mean to sound all life-coachy, but seriously, I’m tired of all the whiny BS I have to hear all day. Stop wishing for something without putting any action behind it! Just go after it! Get what you want! Now!

Fact: I’ve lost 22 lbs. in the last 20 days. Boom. Naturally, people ask how I did it. I fast every other day and eat low carb/high protein on the days I do eat. Is it easy? No. Is it simple? YES. What does that mean?

Do you think it’s easy to sit back, stomach growling, and watch people eat lunch? Nope. It’s not fun. It’s simple because the only thing (the ONLY thing) I have to do is to not eat. It’s not complicated. Just don’t eat. There’s no counting calories or points or calculus or any of that crap. It’s willpower.

Have a toxic person in your life? Cut ’em out. They’re done. Don’t “just not talk to Lisa quite as much this week and then, like, even less after that.” Don’t put yourself through it. Make a clean break. Buh-bye, Lisa.

Got a habit of having a few too many drinks when you go out on Saturday night? Don’t have even one, because you know that one really means seven, and seven means you are def going to do something you’ll regret.

Think I’m oversimplifying? I’m not. Want to stop something? Stop it. Want to start something? Start it now. There’s no halfway. Tell five people in your life about it, and make them hold you accountable. Need a friend? I’ll be your friend. No lie. I’ll annoy the piss out of you, but you’ll be better for it. You just let me know.

Classic Biker Dude Rock

If you have to criticize someone’s taste in music, just shut up. You’re not “cultured” because you like The Grateful Dead; you’re just a fan of crappy music. You’re 24 years old. You weren’t around when they were popular, and if you “listened to them a lot in college derp derp derp,”
1) you’re a stoner
2) you’re a loser
3) you didn’t graduate
4) you probably lived in the lame dorm with no air conditioning
5) you lost touch with all your stoner “friends” and now you have none
6) you really have no place in modern society.

All that being said, I don’t give a flying truck about what type of music you like. Just shut up and don’t judge me because I like rap.

For the record (ha! get it?), I hate The Beatles, The Doors, The Eagles, The Who, The Guess Who (which might be the same band–I don’t know), The Rolling Stones, The Grateful Dead, Hauling Oats, The Boss (whoever that is), the Hotel California guy, Bob Dylan (even though his son is The Wallflowers dude), GNR (not even sure what that is, but my old roommate used to talk about him all the time), CCR (is that country?), Led Zeppelin, that American Pie guy (ack), Leonard Skinnard, etc.

Pink Floyd, Queen, and Tom Petty all get a pass. I can manage to stomach them in larger doses.

FULL DISCLOSURE: I used to work at a classic rock station.

FUNNY STORY RELATED TO DISCLOSURE: We used to do a lot of live remotes, and one was at some huge motorcycle thing at a Harley dealership. A group of motorcycle gentlemen (okay, biker dudes) started talking to me about the station, etc., and they asked me what my favorite band was. I hated to tell them that I more or less detested classic rock and I really only started working at the station so I could switch to the Top 40 station that was one studio over from ours… So I pondered for a second, and literally the only band I could come up with was Queen. (Why Queen? …Jock Jams. No, really. “We Will Rock You” at high school football games.) Blank stares from the biker dudes. I left the station soon after that, but my leaving had more to do with my stalker-y boss than weird interactions with biker dudes.

Aggressive Aggressiveness: Blame Yourself

If you have to be passive-aggressive with me, please know that I will respond in an aggressive-aggressive manner. You’ve been warned.

Example: I’m putting on a quick coat of nail polish in my cubicle. A fellow cubicle denizen begins hacking and clearing her throat.

Response: an open bottle of cheap nail polish on top of her cabinet where she can’t see or reach it.


Example: changing the subject line in the middle of a legitimate reply-to-all email situation.

Response: Without otherwise contributing to the conversation, I changed the subject line back and followed it with “(stop it).” …I mean, I would, but this is hypothetical, of course.


Example: Someone posts on the wall in the bathroom something about what not to flush down the toilet.

Response: Punch Susan in the head.

Kitty Coddlers and Puppy Pamperers

If you have to own a pet, please remember that it is not a human. You shouldn’t take a day off work because Mr. Whiskers is feeling a little blue. You should never feel that it’s appropriate to ask if you can bring your dog to the company picnic. When people ask about your family, please recognize that, even though you adopted your orange tabby-poodle mix (taboodle? is that a thing?), it is not an actual relative.

There aren’t “cat people” and “dog people.” There are two distinct types of pet owners: a) people who like hair/fur/dander/stench all over everything, b) and people who own fish.

I see the sad people trudging down the icy sidewalks in the mornings, pooper scoopers in hand, while large dogs try to find a place to do their business. I’ve walked into homes and felt stinging pain in my eyes and nose as I realize they have a cat (or seven?) even before the fanged hairball rubs against my leg in an affront to my black pants.

I suppose I have a bit of trouble finding the joy in all of that. Does your house feel lonely? Get Amazon Echo. Like warm and fuzzy things? Buy an electric blanket… That way, when your blanket starts acting funny, you don’t have to take it to the vet; you can just throw it away and buy a new one instead of having a funeral for Fluffy!

Also, those of you who think you’re being slick by naming your cat Kevin so people will think you’re talking about a person… Stop. Just stop.

Cuckoo for Cocoa

If you have to get all stupid when chocolate candy (cake, brownies, cookies, etc.) come around, please keep your disgustingly overenthusiastic comments and groans(!!!) to yourself.

There is nothing grosser than people (okay, women) who extol the virtues of chocolate. You know the ones. They start salivating when they see the Hershey’s Kisses. They can’t not walk into the Godiva store in the mall. They have a seemingly endless supply of fun-sized candy bars in their purses. Their eyes glaze over when someone brings a double chocolate fudge cake to the office for Fran’s birthday party.

Picture Bertha digging into a Russell Stover sampler box with her pudgy fingers while saying, “Mmm… *glarf* *glarf* [groan] Thiff chawcolit cairmel is better than sex!” Her eyes roll back in her skull and she starts panting heavily.

Guess what, Bertha…
1) Chocolate is not better than sex.
1a) You’re obviously doing sex wrong, or it’s been so long for you that you simply can’t remember.
1b) No one wants to hear you say the word “sex.” Ever.
2) You might need to break the sugar habit.
3) Consider losing a few. (Sorry.)

Perhaps worse than Bertha? Anorexic Kaylee. This beeatch acts like one M&M will throw off the rotation of the earth and propel her directly into Bertha-dom. She HAS to have it, but not until after she spends six. hours. talking about how incredible it was that one time in college when she binge-ate almost half a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup. To be sure, she’ll eat the M&M, but then she’ll spend the next three and a half weeks in the gym–so then you’ll have to hear about that through the cubicle wall, about how it was “totes worth it,” and about how she’s thinking about snorting Nestle’s Quik powder so she can really get a chocolate fix omg lol jk no rly.

Chocolate is okay, I guess, but it ain’t that great, ladies. Tone it down.

Exploiting Employee Exercise!

If you have to shove “wellness” down your employees’ throats, at least give them a full year to get used to the idea that you expect them to completely give up their lives in pursuit of “wellness points.”

So my company has started a BS “wellness program” because they seem to believe that they can save a few bucks on insurance expenditures by exploiting their employees’ health information. Cool! (They’re 100% incorrect, but whatevs.)

Here’s how it works: Want a decent amount off of your health and life insurance expense for the year? Give all of your personal health information to this third-party company, buy a fitness tracker (and get 10,000 steps a day, or else it doesn’t count), get a “health assessment” (a full physical!) from your doctor and then sign over all the results to the third-party company, get a flu shot, run a few 5ks, etc.! See? It’s easy! AND THAT’S NOT ALL! You can get some third-party-branded craptastic merchandise if you earn enough points! Good luck!

Someone please explain to me why I should voluntarily(!!!) give up my HIPAA-protected information to a third-party, for-profit company. Tell me who in his or her right mind is happy to do this (fitness bucks! yeah! c’mon, rhonda! we can totes earn the fitness umbrella! <3). Should I actually feel comfortable uploading my blood pressure, cholesterol counts, blood test results, etc.?

I've learned a few very important things from this ill-advised, company-promoted foray into the "wellness" space:

1) I will have to take time off of work in order to get 10,000 steps daily. My job requires that I be present within the 3 1/2 walls of my cubicle for the majority of the day, so how does the company expect me to move around enough to get in that many steps?

2) I would have loved to have been the "wellness salesperson" who sold my company on this whole program. I bet he or she was wearing spandex and was carrying some high-tech water bottle. (I hate "fitness people," but that's a topic for a whole other blog post.)

3) I might be a little overprotective of my health information. Maybe.

4) The only shining part of this whole deal is this: I've discovered that I look incredibly sexy in yoga pants. …so at least I've got that going for me.