Tag Archives: shut up

Vegantitlement

If you have to be vegan, well… there’s really no excuse for it. Just stfu about it. We (and I’m speaking for the entire world here) do not care. Quit trying to sell us your bullshit vegan propaganda.

You can call it vegan leather all you want to, but it’s plastic. And that vegan burger? Honey, that’s a black bean patty. And since we’re being honest, that whole “vegan” thing you’re clinging to so desperately? Yeah, you’re just a vegetarian with weird entitlement issues. And we all know you’re quietly hoping someone will give you some ground chuck in place of that slimy bean situation you’ve got going on over there.

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Waxing Political

If you have to talk about politics, do it in your car. When you’re by yourself. With the windows rolled up.

In general, I don’t talk about politics. In specific, I never fucking talk about politics. Trumpeting your political views is one of the quickest ways to make my eyes glaze over. Really, all you’re doing is telling me about your feelings. I don’t actually have feelings, so hearing about yours irritates me. The overarching problem is that people are too emotional to actually hold a conversation in which there is any discussion about politics.

Political discourse digs at the very core of human nature. To remove the passion and the emotion from the conversation is impossible, so it’s my position that discussing politics should be outlawed because the interpretation of facts is skewed by one’s political leanings.

So… shh.

Acerbic Acedia

I can’t. I just can’t join Facebook. I can’t care about all the stupid minutiae of your everyday life. I can’t dedicate a large fraction of my day to reading things I don’t even want to know. I can’t become invested in the lives of people I hated in high school.

My unwillingness to join that wretched social media time suck has caused me to miss out on a few things, but it’s totally worth it.

  • I don’t want to see pictures of your uterus or your dinner or your family reunion.
  • I don’t want to learn that you’ve “liked” a particular brand of insect repellent or edible underwear or paper towel.
  • I don’t want to know that you belong to groups called Creative Kale Recipes, Horny4Mullets, and Intravenous Coffee Drips.
  • I couldn’t be paid enough to care about mommy politics, your fucking Netflix queue, or your new dishwasher.

They should invent a Facebook for apathetic people with short attention spans who are really only there for news and/or a laugh. It should have a 140-character limit for posts…

Snow Smugness

If you have to live in an area that has, you know, seasons… you’d better shut your damn mouth if you’re a fan of that white shit that falls from the sky when it’s cold.

I semi-voluntarily live in a part of the country that has annual temperatures that range from -30 to 100 degrees Fahrenheit. Yeah, it’s probably my fault that I live here, but that doesn’t give you the right to dance around and sing when there’s a blizzard happening outside.

Show some respect. Some of us legit suffer in the winter. Our skin gets dry and chapped, we have to wear less-than-cute clothes to beat the cold, we can’t use our phones while wearing fur-lined gloves, we have to apply lip balm constantly, we can’t get a decent salad anywhere because restaurants only want to sell calorie-laden comfort food, we have to drive our cars on icy roads alongside people who have no idea what they’re doing, and to top it all off, we have to listen to your smug, pro-winter praises. Please just stop it–or else I’ll be forced to dance around in a bikini in front of you as soon as the temp hits 80 degrees. Take that, Jessica.

Workplace Wardrobe

If you have to tell someone that their workplace wardrobe is inappropriate and/or unprofessional (or one of those other words that mean “you’re probably too attractive to work here”), make sure you’re of the opposite gender than the person… otherwise, you just sound old, bitter, and jealous.

This is 100% hypothetical, but if that happened to me, I would have worn a striped turtleneck and a midi-length knit skirt with some 4″ heels and looked like an effing bombshell the next day. *ahem* …Again, however, this is hypothetical.

Do everyone a favor and someone of the opposite gender break it to the offender:

Sorry to have to tell you this, Tina, but you’re looking a little too boneriffic for half of the office to function. Could you grab a sweater? Thanks.

Hey Jim… You know Bertha in Accounting? She won’t stop talking about your bulge. Do us all a favor and start wearing a little more generous pant cut.

When you have a one-on-one meeting in a conference room and you’re dressed like that, people really start to wonder. Maybe leave your “late-night job” clothes at home?

…Or maybe just recognize that some people are more attractive than other people and we’re not trying to be distracting or cause a ruckus. We’re dressed JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE, but people look at us because we’re hot. #sorrynotsorry #suckitBrenda

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.