October 21st, 2008 - Fuck You Number 7

What gives?

This morning on my way into the office, I approached a traffic light that was green, giving ME the right of way. I noticed that there were cars in the lanes adjacent to me slowing down, so I copied their actions, and began to apply pressure to the pedal on the left. As I nearly came to a stop, I emerged from the cars on each side of me, and I saw the obstruction that was prohibiting traffic from moving in the direction in which it should have been. A silver Prius sat in the middle of the intersection waiting to turn left. His light was red. He’d been sitting there as I drove up to the light, for at least 30 seconds, while multiple cars made their feelings known to him. Once all of the traffic in the intersection had come to a halt, this almighty man made a left hand turn into my lane.

I looked to my left and right and saw my fellow drivers shaking their heads erratically, some of them pumping their fists in the air and screaming obscenities behind the glass windows of their vehicles. One thing was for certain; from here on out, I was going to be driving amidst a sea of extremely pissed-off motorists.

Sure enough, as I flipped on my blinker to signal to the drivers behind me that I would be merging into the lane on my right, I was greeted by the middle-finger of the driver behind me. What a lovely man. As I nudged my Mazda across the white line separating the two lanes, the driver behind me veered into the left lane and immediately applied the weight of a thousand men onto his accelerator. He was apparently extremely inconvenienced by my vehicle's necessity to occupy the lane from which I’d be turning in a few short moments. I received yet another friendly gesture coupled with the blaring of his horn as he sped by me.

Fuck road-rage. Fuck that fat son-of-a-bitch in the white Escalade whose day was seemingly ruined when he had to unexpectedly stop at a light which was instructing him he could move forward.

Cheers

October 8th, 2008 - Fuck You Number 1

It's no secret the human race is hurling downhill faster than an overweight twelve-year-old on a toboggan, drooling butter out of the corner of his mouth. I'm one to talk. I work for an advertising agency in one of the three Southernmost states in the good old USA. My job is somewhat unethical, immoral, and downright despicable; but enjoyable nonetheless. My sole duty is to perpetuate peoples' false wants and needs. 

For instance, just yesterday I paced back-and-forth at the front of a conference room convincing the CEO of a major ice cream company the demographic they're trying to capture is a 27 year-old female. That might be true if that female I had portrayed was a hefty broad scraping by on her food stamps. Instead, I used a pampered and primped blonde with fake tits, who just finished performing cunnilingus on an Asian woman for giving her what she thought was the "Sistine Chapel" of pedicures. You know her, the woman who injects substances into her brow for that extra boost of confidence.

There's something wrong in that second paragraph? Many would think the language used to describe the plastic blonde's act of burying her face in between the nail technician's legs to be inappropriate. Others would argue I was wrong in tricking this corporate big-wig into believing these women shoving their fingers down each others' throats would actually indulge in these delicious 2,000 calorie treats. No, no. The major concern at hand here is the image we as a society have ingrained in our minds as being right. In this case, the woman who feels a $100 debit transaction to have her nails painted pink will somehow help how the public views her.

The diets. The surgeries. The air-brushed centerfold. The tabloid photograph that praises Nicole Richie for looking like a piece of Barilla angel hair ready to be dropped into a pot of boiling water. It's repulsive. Someone let these women know they're beautiful. Someone let all humans know they are beautiful.

Fuck you, insecurities. Fuck these irrational and unrealistic portraits society has painted in our minds. 

And thus begins my 365 day rant directed toward the character flaws society has provided us to help destroy each other.

Cheers.