I don't think before I type's Comments

5. No kids? Be considerate. If parents are obeying rules 1-4, those seated near a little one should do their best in turn. Ratchet down volume, cursing, cigarette smoke, and other potential annoyances; if you can't, and it's possible, move. If conflict arises, a polite word to the bartender, server, or manager can help dissuade face-to-face aggression by redirecting the problem to a neutral party. Parents should also be aware that there are some people who just don't like kids, even if yours are veritable angels. Most of the world doesn't have it out for you or your baby, but if you feel you're making a real effort to be considerate and responsible and someone still gives you trouble, try to take it in stride.

So now the idiots over at 7x7 decided post up some guidelines for all the dumbfucking douchtards that want to bring their little shit factory to the bar. This is totally fucking stupid in it's own right but what really fucking annoyed me was their rule for people without kids. Yo straight up fuck that shit.

As someone who is constantly being asked to stop swearing and yelling in restuarants by a bunch of whiney little bitchmade softhands who can't take me speaking how ever the fuck I fucking want I can't stand this fucking bullshit. This isn't even about courtesy, motherfucker you brought your goddamn illiterate sack of shitpants to the bar, not me. So when I laugh at your crying fetus because his broke ass can't fucking read understand that it's your fucking fault, not mine bitch. You don't bring your dumbass kid to the Lusty Lady and request a puppet show, so don't bring them to the goddamn bar you peter pan dreaming assholes. You ruined your life, so stop trying to ruin mine with your little intruding murderer of dreams.

If I wanted to hang out with children I'd be at goddamn Gymboree or some other retarded foam palace of snot and tears. Get your fucking strollers out of my life. I'm a fucking adult and I'm not going to censor myself because you are such a piece of shit of parent that you bring a child into adult situations. Also fuck people who think swearing at work is "inappropriate."  Motherfucker how old are you? If you think swearing is shocking you need to go back to the kiddie table because grown folks talk how ever the fuck they want. If you think I'm stupid because I use curse words and think that I have a small vocabulary, well then fuck you too. That is some bullshit made up by some snobby ass shitcunt of an elementray school teacher who wanted to feel better than people who swear.

I have no respect for people who use terms like shoot, fudge or hecka. Hecka is the fucking worst because it just proves that these fucking assholes got you in the trap that is religion. That shit isn't about heaven, it's about confining your piece of shit ass brain into a system of bullshit so that you eat up all the crap ass regulations these trapping ass bitches try to put on you.

So fuck 7x7
fuck babies
fuck grammer
fuck you

First things first: I am not your mother. If I was, you would have been born with severe Fetal Alcohol Syndrome and your tiny eyes and misshapen hands would make it very difficult for you to operate a computer and read the screen, thus rendering this entire post useless to you. But just because I didn't squeeze your ungrateful husk out of my vagina (FULL DISCLOSURE: I do not have a vagina), don't think for a second that I can't tell you how to live your life.

Look, I get that you are all teenagers and that you only have time to read one blog before you start nervously sifting through whatever magazines are available in the abortion clinic you're currently seated in for the second time in the past three months. Really, I get it. And I also get that you don't want to be lectured in that ONE blog, but maybe you need to be. You don't listen to your REAL parents, and if you keep letting your stepfather talk you into stuff, you are going to keep ending up in this waiting room hoping your name is about to be called. So maybe it is time you took advice from a complete stranger. I know you're thinking, "Oh God, this is going to end up the same way as the time when I took a stranger's advice to drink a Jägerbomb out of a dixie cup while he was giving me a ride home from the mall", but you're wrong, because if you follow my advice, you are more likely to cure a diesese than contract one.

Because my advice is to STAY IN SCHOOL, please?

There are many reasons staying in school is a great idea for you, but, honestly, I don't know any of them because I didn't stay in school long enough to learn them. But I do have some guesses:

1. Manipulation of other people

Look, it is just a scientific fact that the smarter you are, the easier it is to manipulate people in order to get the things you want. Practice today on the smartest drug dealer you know. Using whatever reason/excuse/lie you can muster, convince them to give you free drugs. If it works, you get to go get high. As a reward for being smart! If it fails, you are a disgrace. A sober disgrace who probably can't even afford bootstraps to pull yourself up by. You need to sneak onto the bus without paying and go DIRECTLY to the nearest school and beg them to let you in. I would HURRY.

2. Getting laid

I don't know what kind of lies you tell yourself when you're crying to sleep at night in front of a muted tv playing a Project Runway marathon, but they simply aren't true. No one wants to have sex with you. They might do it as some sort of power move, or pity move, or because they're so drunk that they just don't care, but they really don't want to and they will surely come to their senses soon (unless they too are an uneducated ugly person, in which case you two will probably just concede that there is LITERALLY nothing else out there for you and pathetically cling to each other the same way a piece of trash sticks to a bum's foot, dragging along until one or both you tumbles into the dark abyss of the gutter.) So, if you want to get laid, you are going to need to intelligently talk a man/woman/Edward Cullen manillow into thinking it's a good idea. WIth proper schooling, getting your waitress at Hooters/waiter at Applebees to blow/fingerbang you in her Jetta/his Sonata will be a piece of cake. (Yay cake!)

3. So you don't end up with my job when I drink myself to death

This should really be reason number one, because my job is a perfect example of what you will be forced to do once you have repeatedly tried to flush your life down the toilet only to have it keep popping back up until you finally reach your hand in there, grab it, dry it off and decide to sadly parade it around town. I am a personal assistant for a group of potentially-deranged Germans. My pay-grade allows for constant eating out, if your idea of eating out is taking the crusts from thrown-away sandwiches to Dolores Park and covering them with ketchup from packets stolen out of the Burger King on Market Street. My direct boss, is a lovely old German woman who invites me to do fun tasks such as:

a.) take the olive oil she is using for her salad and cover a hammer with it. Then set the hammer by the door, where it remains for months until mysteriously disappearing one day when she is supposedly out of town.

b.) buy her stamps. Be warned though, if you buy her stamps with pictures of athletes or spiders on them, you will be forced to pay for them out of your own pocket, which will be tough because you can't afford to buy new pants every time your pockets become shredded from the sharpness of your work keys.

c.) painting white buckets white. This is a common occurrence when you have my job. You will be handed a white bucket and a can of white paint and you will be told to paint that white bucket white. If you attempt to reason with your boss, you will be screamed at and potentially be called "a gay". FUN FACT: You will also be called "a gay" if you admit to being cold, even though you work in a dark, damp basement without heat, because "gays are allergic to cold".

You will one day be working outside while people are spraying the apple trees with poison. Later that day, your boss will try to convince you to eat a rotten, poison-covered apple off one of the trees and when you refuse, she will begin to eat leaves off the tree like a giraffe to show you that you are a total pussy who believes too much of what you read. That very same day, you will be looking for your boss and you will find her squatting in an alley, urine streaming from her shriveled old body and she will look at you and tell you "this is where we pee when we're here".

I feel I have probably made my point by now, and you're probably desperate to finish reading this so Dr. Russel can Dustbust another unborn fetus out of your miserable vagina, so I will wrap it up. Your life is sad and getting sadder. School can make it better. Stay in school, please?

*don't forget to sext this blog post to all your friends and remember: The Twilight Saga: Eclipise is in theaters this June!!

[Ed. note: dropping out of school will also cause you to write really long-winded and potentially unreadable sentences. See above for multiple examples.] 

First things first: I am not your mother. If I was, you would have been born with severe Fetal Alcohol Syndrome and your tiny eyes and misshapen hands would make it very difficult for you to operate a computer and read the screen, thus rendering this entire post useless to you. But just because I didn't squeeze your ungrateful husk out of my vagina (FULL DISCLOSURE: I do not have a vagina), don't think for a second that I can't tell you how to live your life.

Look, I get that you are all teenagers and that you only have time to read one blog before you start nervously sifting through whatever magazines are available in the abortion clinic you're currently seated in for the second time in the past three months. Really, I get it. And I also get that you don't want to be lectured in that ONE blog, but maybe you need to be. You don't listen to your REAL parents, and if you keep letting your stepfather talk you into stuff, you are going to keep ending up in this waiting room hoping your name is about to be called. So maybe it is time you took advice from a complete stranger. I know you're thinking, "Oh God, this is going to end up the same way as the time when I took a stranger's advice to drink a Jägerbomb out of a dixie cup while he was giving me a ride home from the mall", but you're wrong, because if you follow my advice, you are more likely to cure a diesese than contract one.

Because my advice is to STAY IN SCHOOL, please?

There are many reasons staying in school is a great idea for you, but, honestly, I don't know any of them because I didn't stay in school long enough to learn them. But I do have some guesses:

1. Manipulation of other people

Look, it is just a scientific fact that the smarter you are, the easier it is to manipulate people in order to get the things you want. Practice today on the smartest drug dealer you know. Using whatever reason/excuse/lie you can muster, convince them to give you free drugs. If it works, you get to go get high. As a reward for being smart! If it fails, you are a disgrace. A sober disgrace who probably can't even afford bootstraps to pull yourself up by. You need to sneak onto the bus without paying and go DIRECTLY to the nearest school and beg them to let you in. I would HURRY.

2. Getting laid

I don't know what kind of lies you tell yourself when you're crying to sleep at night in front of a muted tv playing a Project Runway marathon, but they simply aren't true. No one wants to have sex with you. They might do it as some sort of power move, or pity move, or because they're so drunk that they just don't care, but they really don't want to and they will surely come to their senses soon (unless they too are an uneducated ugly person, in which case you two will probably just concede that there is LITERALLY nothing else out there for you and pathetically cling to each other the same way a piece of trash sticks to a bum's foot, dragging along until one or both you tumbles into the dark abyss of the gutter.) So, if you want to get laid, you are going to need to intelligently talk a man/woman/Edward Cullen manillow into thinking it's a good idea. WIth proper schooling, getting your waitress at Hooters/waiter at Applebees to blow/fingerbang you in her Jetta/his Sonata will be a piece of cake. (Yay cake!)

3. So you don't end up with my job when I drink myself to death

This should really be reason number one, because my job is a perfect example of what you will be forced to do once you have repeatedly tried to flush your life down the toilet only to have it keep popping back up until you finally reach your hand in there, grab it, dry it off and decide to sadly parade it around town. I am a personal assistant for a group of potentially-deranged Germans. My pay-grade allows for constant eating out, if your idea of eating out is taking the crusts from thrown-away sandwiches to Dolores Park and covering them with ketchup from packets stolen out of the Burger King on Market Street. My direct boss, is a lovely old German woman who invites me to do fun tasks such as:

a.) take the olive oil she is using for her salad and cover a hammer with it. Then set the hammer by the door, where it remains for months until mysteriously disappearing one day when she is supposedly out of town.

b.) buy her stamps. Be warned though, if you buy her stamps with pictures of athletes or spiders on them, you will be forced to pay for them out of your own pocket, which will be tough because you can't afford to buy new pants every time your pockets become shredded from the sharpness of your work keys.

c.) painting white buckets white. This is a common occurrence when you have my job. You will be handed a white bucket and a can of white paint and you will be told to paint that white bucket white. If you attempt to reason with your boss, you will be screamed at and potentially be called "a gay". FUN FACT: You will also be called "a gay" if you admit to being cold, even though you work in a dark, damp basement without heat, because "gays are allergic to cold".

You will one day be working outside while people are spraying the apple trees with poison. Later that day, your boss will try to convince you to eat a rotten, poison-covered apple off one of the trees and when you refuse, she will begin to eat leaves off the tree like a giraffe to show you that you are a total pussy who believes too much of what you read. That very same day, you will be looking for your boss and you will find her squatting in an alley, urine streaming from her shriveled old body and she will look at you and tell you "this is where we pee when we're here".

I feel I have probably made my point by now, and you're probably desperate to finish reading this so Dr. Russel can Dustbust another unborn fetus out of your miserable vagina, so I will wrap it up. Your life is sad and getting sadder. School can make it better. Stay in school, please?

*don't forget to sext this blog post to all your friends and remember: The Twilight Saga: Eclipise is in theaters this June!!

[Ed. note: dropping out of school will also cause you to write really long-winded and potentially unreadable sentences. See above for multiple examples.]