When should a person call it quits? When does a person realize they’ve just gone too far? And what does it take to snap them back to reality? The answer to each is relative to the circumstance that got them there in the first place. But, for the spectator, like myself, irregardless of that circumstance, we’re taken to a deep dark place where the thought of a yearly human Purge becomes more and more attractive. So, to the following folks, enough is enough. Take it somewhere else. And be careful…Our society just may change its tune if pushed too far with the constant annoyance that permeates us.
1. How did that reality pill taste to ya? Hard to swallow the simple fact that…YOU HAVE NO CASE? Who’s money now are you wasting to fund your baseless point? For shame, for shame. I’m sure it’s tough to realize the time is coming. Tick tock, tick tock. Hook’s afraid of an old dead clock.
2. To the male driver, that’s right, male driver who tailgated us so closely I could practically smell him. Then, the idiot dangerously started to drive on the oncoming opposite side of the road to discuss how he felt our mph wasn’t “up to speed” all the while we’re both still driving…ARE. YOU. STUPID? What was the point? You tailgate because you’re in a rush, but now wasting both our time to have a driving argument? Was the lack of 3 mph’s really worth risking everyone’s life? You piece of (Ugh, nevermind, I made a promise never to swear).
3. I’m an equal opportunist, so, to the woman driver whose car was banged up in various locations and bumper being held up by duct tape; retire the damn car. Send it to junk yard heaven and end its misery. Granted, we don’t know what happened and I’m glad you’re alive and kicking, but do you not realize that you’re only fueling (yes, pun intended) the male society’s depiction of women drivers? Yes, especially the idiotic type of men mentioned in #2.
4. To all balding men, learn to embrace it. Please stop thinking that allowing the rest of your hair grow out is a distraction from the clear, shiny smooth spot that spans the top portion of your head. Stop framing it for easier visual observation. My eyes hurt. And please, the comb over should have gone out with Donald Trump. Wait, he’s still alive? You get my point. You’re bald!
5. I love my children, but to my beautiful, intelligent and inquisitive 5-year-old. Stop whining! It’s like nails to a chalkboard. It’s not getting you any closer to helping your cause. Where can I buy a human muzzle? Kid size? Ebay?
6. And just today…to the Deja Vu booth sales dude at the mall. I kindly allowed you to present your sales pitch. Despite my initial hesitation, because you insisted I even allowed you to apply product to my arm and rub it in (I could have done it myself, but whatever). But…I draw the line at smelling your finger. Quick story: he put a dab of product on his finger then extending it asked me to smell. I naturally swiped the dab and smelt it from my own hand. He threw a tantrum. That’s right folks, the grown a$$ man threw a tantrum because I didn’t allow him to stick his scraggly finger under my nose. I don’t know what weird fetish thing he had going on but the dude just lost a sale along with his dignity and sanity. Gross.
Bring on the purge.