Archives for category: jerks4life

Yesterday I could not get away from the story of Cecil the lion.
Is it Cess-il as in B. Demille?
Or Cee-sil as in Jackson?
Who the fuck names a lion CECIL?

ANYWAYS.

This story is awful. No animal deserves what happened to Cecil.

But.

Have you considered what the lion did to provoke Mr. Dentist Man?
Okay. Fine. Yes. He had a bow and arrow (and a gun).
Still.
Maybe he was roaring and being all threatening?
Maybe THAT’S what killed him. His arrogance. Who told him he was king of the Jungle?

Maybe instead of that large mane, he shoulda got trimmed up all proper like and learned how to meow.
LIONS ARE INTIMIDATING LOOKING YOU GUYS.
I mean…do we even have all the facts?

What was Cecil doing out of his sanctuary?
He didn’t belong outside of his area.
If he just stayed where he belonged, he’d still be alive today.
Did anybody think of that?

I don’t want you to get me wrong, though.
I care about Cecil. Of course I do! #alllivesmatter #alllionsmatter*

I’m just saying:
If we’re gonna talk about Cecil, we need to talk about how lions kill other lions too.
Because they do. In fact, Jericho (the next lion in charge) will probably kill all Cecil’s cubs.
Because bloodline is serious business. Even in the animal kingdom.
I don’t see anybody talking about THAT.
I mean. Cecil was a major tourist draw at Zimbabwe’s Hwange National Park.
And now he’s dead.
But maybe lions need to stop killing each other TOO.

And while I’ve got this platform to discuss lion murder…
I have one other thing to say:
I think that the media really needs to stop with this death porn.
How many times can one person look at violated dead black bodies dead lions?
YES. He was skinned and decapitated.
How many times do I have to look at pictures of Cecil’s body lying dead and bloodied?
I mean WHY would you…say what now?
You haven’t seen any pictures of Cecil’s skinned beheaded corpse?

OH.

*S/O to MochaMomma for the use of her hashtag

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“If YOU legally carry a gun into a store there’s a high possibility that your black ass will get shot because you are a black man carrying a gun into a store in Georgia”

…wouldn’t it?

bang bang

(I’m just sayin‘)

I went to a Dodgers game last night*. Which was not smart ’cause I still wasn’t packed completely for Coachella, but I would never turn down tickets because that’s ridiculous and also I can buy whatever I forget on the way and I can sleep when I’m dead.

Nesto bought us tickets, but then ditched me, so I gave the extra ticket to my cousin. Told her I’d meet her there since it’s definitely easier for me to get there from Beverly Hills than to go home first.

SO. I got there, got my gift and got comfy in my seat while I waited for my cousin to get there. While I was waiting, the guy sitting directly in front of me wearing his Dodgers jersey (#42), as people do, called Security over to point out a guy sitting waaaay down in front because he was smoking a cigarette. Well. First he called over this lady and pointed him out. And she went down to check it out, then SHE brought Security over.

He starts whispering to security.
Security: Which one is he?
*more whispers*
Security: OH. The one in the 42 Jersey? *SMIRKS*
Me: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
*coughs and looks away*

Y’all.

JR Day

I haven’t laughed that hard at anybody since that one time this teenager was being a jerk in the movie theater skipping up and down the aisles and generally being an annoyance to everyone fell down the stairs. All of them. Yes. I’m petty. So?

*Yesterday, was the Civil Rights Game/ Jackie Robinson day at Dodgers Stadium/baseball fields all over the country. It was pretty awesome. Mrs. Rachel Robinson received a standing ovation because we Dodgers fans love our own. *sniff* I may have gotten some dirt in my eye or something over in the Left Field.

“..We’ll all wear 42 , that way they won’t tell us apart.”

Also. Good Job! We won last night.

So. There’s a guy here at work.
He…Ummm…is not my favorite.
Mostly because I think he believes he should be my favorite.
I HAVE NO IDEA WHY HE FEELS THAT WAY.
And I have never given him any sort of indication that he’s my favorite co-worker.
Mostly because he isn’t.

ANYWAYS.
He called me at work after he’d left for the day.

Him: Hey. Can you do me a favor?
Me: I don’t know.
Him: I’d really appreciate it if you did.
Me: Well. Tell me what the favor is, THEN I can tell you if I can do it.
Him: DANG. WHY ARE YOU SO MEAN?
Personally, I don’t think it’s mean to want to know what it is you want.
You’re the one asking for the favor, mother fucker.
I don’t owe you shit.

Turns out I *could* do the favor for him. He left his iPad at work and he needed me to lock it up for him.

But, seriously. DUDE. I’m not in the habit of just saying yes and I don’t even know what the fuck it is you want from me.
ESPECIALLY, work people who tap dance on my nerves just by existing in the same space as I do.

The other day my co-worker got an email. Another co-worker of hers is getting married in two weeks. (YAY!!) And her supervisor sent an e-mail requesting they defray some of the cost by donating money to the bride/co-worker. I would like to add this request was SPECIFICALLY for money. Not gifts.

Umm…what?
So, lemme get this straight: You want her to donate money to help pay for a wedding that she is not even invited to?
What part of the game is that?
WHERE THEY DO THAT AT?
Somebody. Please help me out.

Because HELLLL NAW. She asked me if I got the e-mail too.
Me: Nope. And you better hope I don’t, because if I do, I’m gonna go HAM. AND? I’m gonna reply all.
Because FUCK YOU, that’s why.

If you can’t afford this wedding that YOU planned for YOURSELF, maybe you shouldn’t have it.
The Courthouse is pretty reasonable.
OR. You could elope.
OR. Talk a friend into getting an internet certificate so they can marry you. (Holy Briya at your service!)
OR. If you INSIST on having a wedding: Wait until YOU can afford it.

SHIT.

I get it. Weddings are expensive. That’s why I didn’t have one.
I got married while I was already on vacation on the beach.
The whole thing probably cost $300 bucks or so.
Including the very tiny wedding rings purchased on a Private’s salary.

THE BIGGER ISSUE, THOUGH, IS WHY IS IT OKAY TO ASK PEOPLE TO FUND THINGS THAT ARE CLEARLY YOUR RESPONSIBILITY?

Oh, you need to get your hair done?
You can’t pay your cell phone bill?
Would you walk up to a stranger on the street and ask them to buy you a new outfit because you can’t afford it?
No? Then stop it. STAAAAHP.
(And if you would, you deserve the junk punch that you get for asking)

You shouldn’t be trying to make any of these things somebody else’s problems.

That shouldn’t be what crowdfunding is used for.

I mean, YES. There are things/reasons/emergencies* that relying on the kindness of strangers/friends/family is not completely inappropriate.
Nobody ever PLANS to have wildly expensive emergencies appear out of nowhere.
And sometimes big dreams require big money.

But that thing where you think that somebody else is supposed to finance the lifestyle that you want to become accustomed to? No. In fact, not just no. HELL no.

Even though it may not sound like it, I say this with love:
Learn how to manage your money.
Learn how to save up for things that you want.
Get a better paying job.
Get A job.
Be responsible for the things that you want.
NO.

I know the internet makes it look easy. But. It isn’t. My paycheck won’t let me be great either. Anthropologie has pretty dresses. And the ones I love most are ALL expensive. So I have to wait until payday before I can buy it. Or two paydays. Or three. Or maybe I won’t buy it at all because in reality, I don’t really NEED an almost $400 dress.

Until I become independently wealthy, I can’t have everything that I want. And that’s the way it is. I’m not asking friends/family/co-workers to fund my insane lust for expensive dresses.
Because that isn’t how that works. *I* want it, *I* save for it. ME.

You want it? YOU save for it. *YOU*.

But don’t ask me. Because even if I *do* have extra change lying around (Which. Is HIGHLY unlikely with a college student living in my pocketbook), I want to spend it on me. Possibly my husband.

Not you. You go fuck fund yourself.

*yes. these are ALL my opinions

You guys, my anniversary is coming up. Next weekend I will have been married for 22 (!) years. I think. I’m pretty sure it’s 22.
I’m also fairly certain it’s next weekend… I’ll be honest: I have a horrible memory. But I’m absolutely certain of two things: We got married. AND it was a LONG ASS TIME AGO.

YES. I GOT MARRIED REALLY YOUNG. (see also: 24 year old son. Hi, Adam!) I did a LOT of things really young. Heh.

ANYWAYS. Not the point. The point is that I never know what to do about our anniversary. I looked up wedding anniversaries; apparently this is the year I’m supposed to gift copper.
A copper WHAT, though? Really, it doesn’t matter because when you’ve been married as long as we have, I feel like you pretty much have all the things you could ever really want.
EXCEPT JEWELRY, YOU CAN NEVER HAVE ENOUGH JEWELRY. So I guess I’ll just sit tight until my 25th anniversary: Sterling Silver. Tiffany’s here I come!

And while I was looking up anniversary stuff, do you know what ELSE happened on my anniversary?

Houston Riot of 1917 (also called the Camp Logan Riot)!
So what had happened was… two Houston police officers busted in this (black) lady’s house(they were “looking for a suspect in the neighborhood”). They assaulted her and then dragged her into the street.
A soldier from the 24th Infantry was like, Well WTF IS HAPPENING HERE?
And the police officers were like, you can get some of this too.
The official reports and later news reports stated the soldier was charged with interfering with the arrest of a publicly drunk female.
Later on, Corporal Charles Baltimore went to the Houston police station to investigate the arrest, as well as beating of another black soldier, and attempted to gain the release of the soldier.
An argument began which led to violence, and Corporal Baltimore was beaten, shot at, and himself arrested by the police.
Once he was set free and sent back to camp all beaten up, the infantry became angry and decided extract revenge.

The riot began the evening of August 23, when 156 angry soldiers stole weapons from the camp depot and marched on the city of Houston.
They were met outside the city by the police and a crowd of armed citizens, frightened by the reports of a mutiny.
A virtual race riot began, which left 20 people dead – four soldiers, four policemen, and 12 civilians.
Order was restored the next day, and the War Department disarmed the soldiers.

There you have it folks! Your unnecessarily long, but still informative BHFOTD!

But I don’t want y’all thinking I’m trying to insinuate some sort of correlation between police officers from 1917 to the present day are out here causing riots because they don’t know how to treat black people. So, may I share one more anniversary with y’all?

This year marks the 25th anniversary of the movie, Do the Right Thing.

SMIRK
#jerks4life

The other day I was watching some Korean equivalent of America’s got Talent! Or maybe it was The Voice or…something. I dunno. There was a girl singing and people judging her and it was all in Korean. Except the song the girl sang.
Why am I watching Korean shows, you ask? ‘Cause The Brat is home. And she felt the need to make me watch all the shit I haven’t had to watch since she’s been away at college.

ANYWAYS.
Me: I don’t think she picked a good song. I think I’d like it better if she was singing the original version.
Brat: ….?
Me: The Fugee version is a cover. The original singer of this song is Roberta Flack.
To be fair, there’s not really a reason you should know that. That song is WAAAY before your time. And really, I was barely born when that song came out.

My mom (who’s visiting): That CAN NOT be true. That song isn’t THAT old. (Did she just call me old?)
Me: It was released in 1973. I wasn’t even 1 year old yet. (Thanks, Google!)

My mom: DAMN.

And because I’m a jerk, I felt immeasurably better knowing that even though this entire conversation made me feel old, I managed to make MY mom feel even older.

#jerksforlife