Forever Bored

If you have to hang out with me (okay, that makes it sound like it’s a bad thing, but IRL, I’m actually not the bitch I purport myself to be in this blog), know that I get bored very, VERY easily.

Here’s this thing I’ve discovered about people as of late… when it comes to activity, there are the following types of people:

  • Gets bored very easily and lacks the coping mechanisms to deal with it, and therefore seeks out any and all ways to escape the vacuous hellhole otherwise known as just sitting there with nothing to do. This is me. When I go into a situation (social or otherwise), I always try to find an out. Whether that’s finding the actual door to exit the place, figuring out how I can talk to the most interesting person in the room, or planning to get one more drink to force the fun, I find a way to make the situation less boring.
  • Gets kinda bored sometimes, but can deal with it though various methods–thinking, being creative, going on Facebook, etc. Good for you people, really. While I’m tapping my foot at the doctor’s office while fantasizing about punching the nurse who I swear keeps moving my name to the bottom of the list, you people are posting endlessly fascinating little tidbits on your wall. (That’s what it’s called on Facebook, right? Sounds fucking thrilling.)
  • Rarely gets bored because they take joy in solitude. They actually enjoy sitting at a coffee shop. Alone. And they ponder shit while they sit there. By themselves. Alone. And they like it. Because they’re strange.
  • Is never bored because these weirdos clearly have the IQ of dirt and are actually entertained by the minutiae of everyday life. Like, they are jazzed to literally watch paint dry and/or drool on themselves and/or watch other people play golf.

So I’m bored now. Bye.

(Exit is this-a way.) —->

In Defense of Yoga Moms

If you have to write a blog post with the above title, you should probably have something nice to say about yoga moms… but fuck that.

Yoga moms piss me off.

These women don’t work, they don’t do anything for themselves, and THEY DON’T ACTUALLY DO YOGA. These bitches mooch off of their hard-working husbands to support their lives of leisure and… wait. What do they actually do? They drink champagne at 11 AM, they go out with the other yoga moms, and they bag on women like me who actually contribute to society. They hire people to clean their houses and watch their children for them, they’re addicted to whatever pill that is in the amber-colored bottle, and (sorry, hard-working husbands) they’re sleeping with the “life coach” guy who lives three houses down. They put on yoga pants in the morning, they hit the salon, and then they overperfume themselves before heading out for a tough day of shopping and sitting on the patio at the bistro with some other stupid yoga bitches. Oh yeah, and then they bang Sven or Marco (or whatever his name is) before their kids get home from school.

These ladies are the worst, but tbh, their husbands aren’t that much better. Did they really go into marriage hoping to just have a trophy wife? And what about the fugly yoga moms… did these guys REALLY sign up for paying for some ugly bitch to just sit around (and I mean arouuuund) the house that they bought for her? Why? WHY? Why do they let their wives spend $90 on mascara, rack up 10 hours at the spa every week, pay $300 for a haircut, and watch all the soap operas? What are they getting out of it? Maybe it’s some crazy sex move known only to yoga moms. (Maybe THAT’S what they’re learning from that “life coach” guy!)

I’d venture to guess that maybe–just MAYBE–women who have an education and a job and actually pull their own weight probably have a little more to offer than those awful, horrible, throatpunchable yoga moms.