ED. NOTE: This posting is meant for people who say “FML” and mean it. Like they say, people love the internet because they get to whine on it, and that’s fine. Go ahead, grumble. Just be interesting about it! And don’t be some snivelling fuckwit hyperbolizing and going “FML” because you woke up 30 minutes before your alarm, all right? I don’t care about grumbling, but I _hate_ the saying “FML”. Which is why we’re at this dance. Shall we?
Oh. And this may contain swearwords. Be careful of your fragile little vocabulary thresholds now.
Trendy these days is the acronym “FML”, short for “Fuck My Life.”
No, fuck your attitude if you’re saying that crap.
Forgetting your lunch is not “FML.” Having to deal with a friend you find annoying because you’re too pussy to deal with it, that’s not “FML”.
That’s “fuck, I’m dumb” or “fuck, I’m a pussy.” You’re to blame either way. That ain’t “FML”.
I’ve been pissed off about seeing “FML” all the time for quite a while now. I see it from spoiled rich kids who have a bad day, or people with ordinary lives who have victim complexes about every little thing that happens. I see it from people with more good luck in a week than I’ve seen in a year sometimes, too. I see it from people who blurt it without really thinking about what it means a lot. People are whining on Twitter about forgetting their lunch and tagging the comment with FML. Seriously?
And this week, THIS WEEK, I’m done.
Shut the fuck up. Continue reading
Tag Archives: snivelling
RANT: Another Fucking Bad Hair Day
I should be leaving for an appointment right this very second, but I’m SO mad! I HATE my hair.
There is nothing worse (esteem-wise) than bad hair days. Except maybe bloating days, but We Don’t Talk Of Such Things.
I splurged. I came into a few bucks and went to my fancy-pants expensive hair guy, paid him a ridiculous $65 about 3-4 weeks ago now, and got the cut I have. Which I hate. And in the process? Had to put up with the dresser being, essentially, a stereotypical “pissy queen.”
My best friend is GayBoy. I love him to death. Gay? Not an issue. But standing there and being a negative, pissy bitch of a man while getting paid more per hour than I’ve ever gotten is pretty much a fucking affront to anyone. Worth it, MAYBE, for a good haircut.
Which this is not. Unusual for my fancy-pants coif-man, but there it is: It SUCKS.
And because he spent the whole fucking hour whining at me about life and people and traumas, I won’t be going back.
Know what? Here’s a fuckin’ memo: Shrinks get $120 an hour, or more, to listen to people bitch, piss, and moan. Know why? Because they fucking DESERVE it. Whiners suck! Issues suck! Who wants to hear them? Not many people. That’s what best friends and lovers are for. Not fucking hair-dressers!
Now I’m gonna make myself even later by dunking my head under the tap and hoping it dries in better positions when I put my motorcycle helmet on. Fucking people. $65 for a whine-at-me session and a bad haircut.
When I say I like to get screwed, that’s not exactly what I have in mind. GRR!