People always say that the high school years are the best days of your life. I graduate from high school today. I have two dominant thoughts about this:
1) Holy shit, I’m basically an orthopedic-shoe-wearing, online-dating-profile-making adult.
2) If those were the best days of my life, the rest of my life is going to suck SO hard.
I know a lot of you probably loved your high school experiences. For four years you get to live “young and wild and free” (unless you have really strict parents or are a 30 year old trying to obtain your GED for the 12th time). If you’re a girl you can generally pull of midriff-baring shirts and if you’re a guy the majority of your hair is still on your head instead of on your back and that’s something that should be cherished for as long as possible. But I can’t be the only one who found that despite some of the great memories that we gather in high school, it’s a pretty fucking awkward four years. Don’t get me wrong, it had its moments, but for me 90% of them were super embarrassing. It all started in grade nine…
Grade 9
No matter who you are, you were probably not at your prime in grade nine. Even if for some unfair reason you somehow managed to be both charismatic and abnormally attractive at the tender age of 14/15, you were still a grade nine, and no one carries that label gracefully. I for one was the epitome of all things that make grade nine such a bad year. In addition to the fact that I looked like pre-weightloss Jonah Hill in a wig (as you may have heard me mention before), I had glasses and braces and thought that buying brown yoga pants and trying to bring back mood rings couldn’t possibly be bad ideas. Oh, how wrong I was. Every time I see a picture of myself in grade nine, I just want to send a message through the time-space continuum begging my young self to stop wearing Birkenstocks with sweatpants and to take a damn shower for once. In addition to all of that aesthetic misfortune, I also had an irrational, crippling fear of grade twelves. I think it might have stemmed from watching too many bad 90s sitcoms, but I was convinced that at any given time a group of Regina George lookalikes would stuff me into a locker, laugh maniacally, and leave me there to suffocate. I would be left there all day until after hearing my sobs, a friendly janitor would come and rescue me. Naturally we would become the best of friends and I would teach him to read and eventually inspire him to acquire his high school diploma and go on to lead a wildly successful life, but this would all be at the cost of me being shoved forcefully into a locker. I know that sounds far-fetched, but I was SO convinced it was going to happen. I vividly remember walking into the girls’ washroom during my first week of school and seeing three grade twelve girls grooming themselves at the mirror, causing me to let out a squeak of fear and haul ass out of there. I cut down my water intake for a solid 2 months after that simply to avoid any similar encounters. Over time I came to terms with the fact that my underwear wasn’t going to be confiscated and hung on the flagpole and actually became comfortable with my surroundings. However, this wasn’t necessarily a good thing. On to grade 10…
Grade 10
I like to refer to grade 10 as “The Body-Spray Year”. Why, you ask? Go into any hall that houses at least five grade tens in between glasses and take a nice, deep breath. You taste that? A nice combination of musk and vanilla that makes you both gag and choke simultaneously? That, my friend, is body spray. I don’t know what it is about grade tens, but they go NUTS for that shit. I clearly remember investing in something that was supposed to smell like cake (because of course a hefty 15 year old would want to smell like cake) and basically bathing in it every day. And I wasn’t the only one. People kept what resembled entire pharmacy perfume aisles in their lockers. Not just girls either, but guys too. After finally discovering deodorant after smelling like onions left out in the sun for all of grade 9 (Seriously grade 9 boys, personal hygiene. Learn it. Love it. Embrace it.), many of them decide that if making themselves stop smelling like a sweaty donkey is good, walking around in a cloud of cologne must be WAY better. Of course by cologne, I mean Axe. Fun fact for all of you guys out there: The Axe commercials lie. Using an entire bottle of Axe body spray over the course of an hour does not make me want to rip off my clothes around you. It just makes my allergies flare up and I get all sneezey and my eyes puff up and that really doesn’t get me in the mood. The other main component of grade 10 is the immense self-esteem boost that comes from no longer being a grade 9. In some cases grade 10s manage to remain humble, and big ups to them. But a lot of the time, grade 10s end up thinking they are, pardon my outdated slang, “the bomb diggity”. They strut around the halls in small packs, wafts of body spray trailing behind them, rocking their short-and-Uggs combos (or pants around knees ensembles in the case of guys) like the swagnificent individuals they are. It wouldn’t be a big deal in most cases but sometimes it just gets a little out of hand. On more than one occasion I’ve been hurrying along to class only to run into a large group of grade 10s walking down the hall in a horizontal formation that resembles a game of Red Rover. There’s literally NO way to get around them, so I generally just mumble a gruff comment and force my way through with my backpack. I’m pretty sure a lot of them think I’m a huge bitch for this, but I really just want to get to class five minutes late instead of ten. I have standards you know! By the end of the year, grade 10s generally get taken down a few pegs from being knocked over while holding hands with their friends across the hall or having someone yell “OH MY GOD STOP WITH THE PERFUME I HAVE FUCKING ASTHMA” at them. But a word of advice for next year’s grade 10s: You ain’t the shit if you smell like it. On to grade 11.
Grade 11
I like to think of grade 11 as the token hipster of the high school years. It’s a year of self-discovery; since you’re no longer a junior, you’re free to do your own thing and get judged slightly less for it than you would have in the past. I for one expressed my individuality by purchasing way too many ironic graphic tees from the men’s department at Urban Outfitters and experimenting with a middle part. I’m pretty sure the combination resulted in me bearing a slight resemblance to Rosie O’Donnell, but that’s beside the point. I was also really set on getting a blue streak in my hair throughout the entire year, but for some reason didn’t end up getting it until the beginning of grade 12. I know I’m delving into another grade here, but since my blue hair mishap was a reflection of the grade 11 I still was at heart I feel I should mention the sheer sense of rebellion I felt upon getting it and how quickly that feeling died once people started making jokes about me looking like Avril Lavigne. Thanks for crushing my spirit, guys. Anyways, grade 11 is the year people are most likely to invest in a high quality Nikon or Canon camera and to take artsy pictures with it in a field and upload them to Facebook in an album with a clever title. I have an entire folder on my computer comprised solely of badly taken pictures of flowers and tree bark that testify to this fact. Above all, grade 11 is characterised by starting to figure out what you want to do with your life. There’s a good chance you’ll toy with the idea of at least 14 different careers throughout the course of the year, and by the end of it the only conclusion you’ll draw is that you want to make a lot of money or that you want to marry rich. And that’s totally okay! As of today I’m not even in high school anymore and that’s still the only conclusion I’ve drawn. But then again, I know I’m destined to marry someone famous so I’m not too worried about supporting myself financially and might not be the best person to take advice from. Anyways, there’s probably more I could say about grade 11, but it’s kind of underground. You’ve probably never heard of it before. (That was a hipster joke. Just in case you were wondering.) So, uh, grade 12?
Grade 12
Grade 12 is somehow both the most intense and the laziest year I have ever experienced. The entire first semester is one giant whirlwind of university applications and stress-induced acne, while the second can be accurately summed up by the simple sentence “zero fucks given.” When grade 12 starts, you actually have to put down on paper what you want to do once you graduate and apparently becoming a princess or a superhero isn’t a legitimate answer. And that’s all sorts of terrifying. Things that used to matter start seeming dumb, looking good for example. Once you hit grade 12, formfitting clothing seems like a sick joke to you and sweatpants and hoodies become your very best friends, regardless of the weather. I can’t even tell you how many times I contemplated buying a Snuggie and wearing it to school with some sort of belt in the hope that I could pass it off as a stylish oversized dress. After you get all your post-secondary plans in order, however, the senioritis kicks in HARD. It becomes physically impossible to do anything productive and you find yourself using stupid catchphrases like “#YOLO” on a regular basis in order to justify your inaction. Actually that might just be Drake… I’m not sure, I’m not very hip. Anyways, by the end of the year you basically feel like you’ve already graduated and going to school 5 out of 7 days a week just isn’t a realistic goal when you could stay home and sleep instead. And exams? LOL, that’s a good one! I have the utmost respect for anyone who actually manages to study for second semester exams in grade 12. It’s just not doable. I napped and ate for a week straight when I should have been studying for exams and I’m totally okay with that (#YOLO?), and I know a lot of other people did the same. When there’s bigger and brighter things on the horizon like a summer of sleep, moving out and heading to uni it’s impossible to focus on silly little high school.
...Okay, I might have lied about that last part. Now that I’m officially leaving high school, I’m finding it way too easy to focus on it. The past four years have absolutely flown by. I feel like just yesterday I was hiding from grade twelves in my ugly brown pants and meeting some of my best friends for the first time. As awkward and embarrassing as some of my experiences were, I’ll always remember every single one of them fondly. And I hope it’s the same case for anyone else who’s graduating, even the people who I resent for going through grade nine gracefully. And you know what? Even if those were the best years of my life, maybe the rest of it won't suck THAT hard. Anyways, this got emotional real fast so I’m just going to go practice walking in my commencement shoes even though I’ll probably trip on stage either way. But before I go, here’s a profound song about graduating that seems quite fitting today. Haha, just kidding! It’s that one song by Vitamin C. Happy graduation everyone! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0HDM3eYp4KQ
Wednesday, 27 June 2012
Thursday, 17 May 2012
The Ten Commandments of Facebook
Facebook (or as elderly individuals call it, “The Facebook”) is both a blessing and a curse. It’s great for keeping in touch with people or being a stalker without having charges pressed against you, but it is also home to many pitfalls. I was on “The Twitter” yesterday and came across an intriguing Trending Topic: 10 Facebook Tips. After thinking about it for a while, I came to the realization that people do A LOT of stupid things on Facebook. I know that no one should have to cater to the interests and opinions of their friends while doing their thang online, but nonetheless there IS a set of unspoken social conventions that relate specifically to Facebook that everyone really must adhere to in order to make all of our lives better. You can tell it’s important because I was just forced to use a run-on sentence to sum up my feelings. And I don’t like run-on sentences. Anyways, are you new to the Facebook world? Well, as a congratulatory gift for finally crawling out from that rock you’ve been stuck under for the last decade, I have prepared a list of the Ten Commandments of Facebook. Read on, take notes (probably by hand since you’re clearly not tech savvy), and memorize these rules if you don’t want your social networking peers to hate you.
1. Thou Shalt Not Share Thine Own Profile Picture
I can’t remember when “Likes” became a thing on Facebook, but people go NUTS for those bad boys. I think they’ve become a sort of status symbol, and some people will really do anything to ensure that their photos, posts and links receive an adequate amount. One popular method that is often employed in order to gain more likes is sharing your own profile picture. For those of you who are unfamiliar with sharing, it basically makes your picture pop up on your friends’ homefeeds again and again until the image is all but burned into their retinas. Sharing other people’s stuff is totally okay, and if you’re really that set on breaking the triple digits on that new selfie of yours you could probably just get your friend to share it and pretend they’re just a nice person. But repeatedly sharing your own? Not okay. No matter how many likes or comments you get from it, you still shared your own picture. Even if you really do look awesome in it, it’s embarrassing.
2. Thou Shalt Not Send Needless App Requests
Once upon a time when everyone clearly needed a hobby, there was a thing called Farmville. Farmville was a Facebook app that allowed people to make quaint little virtual farms and pick cute little virtual crops. A part of me will forever be convinced that by playing Farmville we were somehow controlling agricultural endeavours in Third World countries, but that’s a story for another time. Anyways, the point here is that Farmville was hot shit at the time, and it wasn’t uncommon to receive several requests for the application in the span of a day. Alas, people eventually realized that virtual farming was a new low for society, and the trend stopped. Facebook apps were all but forgotten, and one would expect that app requests would stop too. But no. To this day I still get requests to be a waitress in someone’s virtual café or to kill a guy in some sort of mafia war, and besides confusing me about where the line is drawn between real life and the internet it’s just plain annoying. When I go on Facebook and see a notification I get excited and think that I might actually have friends for a minute, but when it turns out to be an invitation to beat someone’s score in Snake my dreams are dashed and I’m left heartbroken. So while I wish you all the best in whichever online career path you choose to pursue, please don’t ask me to help you with it. Unless you make up for it by writing on my wall so I can feel good about myself.
3. Thou Shalt Not Shove Your Relationship Down People’s Throats
There are many different types of Facebook couples. Some are acceptable, and some are just not. I’m going to focus on the two extremes of FB couples for the purpose of this post. On one hand, there’s the super-lovey-dovey-probably-going-to-get-married-in-a-couple-years-and-call-each-other-stuff-like-Snookums couple. These are the people that take pictures of themselves holding a baby and say they’re preparing for their future, post on each other’s walls every five minutes to say they miss each other even when they’re together, and in the most severe circumstances, even share an account. Gross. There’s nothing wrong with being in love and wanting people to know about it, but there’s a point where people just start praying you break up so they don’t have to deal with you anymore. Speaking of break-ups, that brings me to the second kind of Facebook couple: the jaded-exes-who-viciously-chew-each-other-out-in-statuses-and-posts-and-make-everyone-else-uncomfortable. The only thing worse than the crazy in love couple is the couple who ended on a bad note and don’t care who knows it. It’ll generally start out with subtle sass, but over time it can escalate into full on virtual brawls about someone being a slut or someone having a small dick. It’s funny initially but when it gets to the point where someone threatens to pull a shank on their ex-paramour a line is crossed. So please, if you’re dating someone and happen to both have Facebook, just pretend you don’t know each other.
4. Thou Shalt Not Fish For Compliments
Let’s be real here: Facebook is an opportunity to post flattering pictures of yourself in order to pretend you’re actually good looking when in reality you look a little bit like Steve Buscemi in a wig. It’s a well-known fact. But every once in a while, someone will try to pretend that they aren’t aware of this, and post a photo with a caption like “Ugh I’m so fugly.” in the hopes that someone will be quick to disagree with them. They don’t actually think the picture is ugly. Come on now. No matter how valiantly they try to project the image that they just needed a “temp” picture and just so happened to be hanging out in a ballgown with their hair curled when their webcam accidentally went off, we all know that they probably spent hours scrolling through hundreds of selfies before they found one that perfectly portrayed their ability to smize while looking off to the side mysteriously. If you didn’t like a picture, you wouldn’t post it to Facebook. So instead of fishing for compliments by insulting yourself, just do what most teenage girls do and caption it with a Taylor Swift lyric instead. And if you ever catch someone in the pursuit of compliments? Just answer their “I’m hideous!” with a “Yeah, you are.” Problem solved!
5. Thou Shalt Not Post Attention-Seeking Statuses
Before I begin, let me clearly state that I am a total supporter of freedom of speech and don’t think people should have to censor their thoughts. But I’ll make an exception for Facebook. Most things are a-okay: corny jokes, university acceptances, the occasional video of a cat doing something funny. What isn’t okay? Posting a status that sounds extraordinarily depressed and/or angry and then refusing to answer people when they ask what’s wrong. If you’re not doing it because you genuinely want help, chances are you’re just doing it to spark people’s curiousity and get some attention. And that ain’t cool. What if someday someone is actually extraordinarily depressed and/or angry and actually wants to talk about it, but people ignore them because they assume it’s just another underhanded reference to the heartbreak of being RNR’d? It’s like the boy who cried wolf. But with song lyrics. And sadfaces.
6. Thou Shalt Not Upload A Boob Picture and Get Mad When People Comment On Your Boobs
Let me set the scene: It’s a Wednesday night; you’re super bored and somehow you wind up on Facebook. As you scroll down your feed, you notice that a lot of people have been commenting on someone’s profile picture change, so you decide to check it out. Click. WHAM, BOOBS. Oh, and there’s a face somewhere in the upper left corner. Huh, didn’t even notice. Almost every single picture that is at least 60% boob will be accompanied by the following series of comments:
Commenter: Tits.
Person in Picture: Haha.
Commenter 2: Tittaaaaayyys!
Person in Picture: Um…
Commenter 3: b00bz.
Person in Picture: Cut it out guys, I’m not that kind of girl.
Commenter 4: Rack city bitch.
Commenter 2: Rack rack city bitch.
Person in Picture: Stop it! You’re all so immature.
Commenter 6: ( . Y . )
Person in Picture: OMFG I HATE ALL OF YOU.
Generally the conversation will end with boob-girl giving the commenters a stern lecture about how they’re creepy and gross, and then proceeding to share the photo at least five times just so everyone knows how classy she is. Poor little thing, I bet all she really wants is for someone to comment on her radiant smile and political activism! Ha, I’m funny. But seriously: if you’re going to expose the girls on the internet, be prepared to handle the consequences. An alternate solution is investing in a collection of turtlenecks and scarves. Both could work.
7. Thou Shalt Not Use Hashtags
Self-explanatory. Don’t do it.
8. Thou Shalt Not TyP3 LyK3 Thi$
I’ll accept poor capitalization. Heck, I’ll even accept the occasional misuse of your and you’re or there, their, and they’re. But when people $t@rt t@LkiNg LyK3 Thi$ I Lo$3 mY MiNd. Fact: Typing like that for the sake of this post may have caused me to lose an IQ point. Combining what were perfectly normal letters and symbols into something that bears a resemblance to Wingdings might be a little bit impressive, but it doesn’t make you look cool or artsy. It makes you look illiterate and it hurts my eyes to read unless I put my glasses on. Correct me if I’m mistaken, but I’m pretty sure no elementary school teaches kids to write using @ signs for a’s and $’s for s’s, so why in the world would you ever do that? Perhaps there’s a modified keyboard out there that I haven’t heard about yet, but until someone shows me one I’m just going to say if people don’t start typing in a legible fashion, I will force feed them alphabet soup until they change their ways.
9. Thou Shalt Not Poke
I don’t know why poking exists. I really, really don’t. Can you think of any possible circumstance where virtually jabbing someone with your index finger would be appropriate? No. It can’t be a “we’re in a fight” thing, or the word would have been punch. It can’t be a “Hey, just so you know I’m still around! Why aren’t you answering my texts?” thing because people have walls and inboxes for that. I really hope it’s not a flirty thing like some people seem to think it is, because let me tell you: nothing is less flirtatious than some middle aged man who has no mutual friends with you sending you a “Poke”. I speak from personal experience. So since poking will never accomplish anything other than putting you on a pedophile hotlist, just don’t do it. Maybe Mark Zuckerberg will take the hint and give us a “Punch” option instead.
10. Thou Shalt Not Rage At People For Lurking
There are few things that make less sense than getting angry at someone for lurking you on a website that is essentially built for the express purpose of lurking. I can’t count the number of times I’ve mentioned seeing something on Facebook and received either a snide “Wow, you creeper.” comment or a look that is usually reserved for convicted sex offenders. The most commonly accepted way to react in this situation is to mutter “It was on my home feed…” and attempt to rapidly change the topic, but you know what? Why apologize? I’m sorry, but if you’re going to publish your stuff approximately 9 times in the span of 5 minutes in order to make sure everyone sees it, chances are people are going to lurk the shit out of it. I know I’ve lurked, and I’m not ashamed. I, Hannah White, am a Facebook creep. And I am damn proud of it. We need to stop kidding ourselves: EVERYONE lurks Facebook. Chances are that some kid you went to day camp with when you were eight knows more about you than your current friends do and there are people out there who you have never met but who know your name, all because of lurking. That’s the beauty of the 21st century: People are creepy as hell, and it’s slowly becoming okay. So next time someone mentions your status update from a couple days ago or an awkward snapshot of you in someone’s album, don’t give them sass. Just remember the time you went through someone’s 104 profile pictures in one day, and move on. Unless they know really weird details about you like your dog’s birthday or your cousin’s middle name. That is not common lurking, and you should probably contact the cops.
So there you have it. The Ten Commandments of Facebook. I know they’re a lot to take in, but don’t worry: if you can’t handle them, there’s a nice little home for you on MySpace.
1. Thou Shalt Not Share Thine Own Profile Picture
I can’t remember when “Likes” became a thing on Facebook, but people go NUTS for those bad boys. I think they’ve become a sort of status symbol, and some people will really do anything to ensure that their photos, posts and links receive an adequate amount. One popular method that is often employed in order to gain more likes is sharing your own profile picture. For those of you who are unfamiliar with sharing, it basically makes your picture pop up on your friends’ homefeeds again and again until the image is all but burned into their retinas. Sharing other people’s stuff is totally okay, and if you’re really that set on breaking the triple digits on that new selfie of yours you could probably just get your friend to share it and pretend they’re just a nice person. But repeatedly sharing your own? Not okay. No matter how many likes or comments you get from it, you still shared your own picture. Even if you really do look awesome in it, it’s embarrassing.
2. Thou Shalt Not Send Needless App Requests
Once upon a time when everyone clearly needed a hobby, there was a thing called Farmville. Farmville was a Facebook app that allowed people to make quaint little virtual farms and pick cute little virtual crops. A part of me will forever be convinced that by playing Farmville we were somehow controlling agricultural endeavours in Third World countries, but that’s a story for another time. Anyways, the point here is that Farmville was hot shit at the time, and it wasn’t uncommon to receive several requests for the application in the span of a day. Alas, people eventually realized that virtual farming was a new low for society, and the trend stopped. Facebook apps were all but forgotten, and one would expect that app requests would stop too. But no. To this day I still get requests to be a waitress in someone’s virtual café or to kill a guy in some sort of mafia war, and besides confusing me about where the line is drawn between real life and the internet it’s just plain annoying. When I go on Facebook and see a notification I get excited and think that I might actually have friends for a minute, but when it turns out to be an invitation to beat someone’s score in Snake my dreams are dashed and I’m left heartbroken. So while I wish you all the best in whichever online career path you choose to pursue, please don’t ask me to help you with it. Unless you make up for it by writing on my wall so I can feel good about myself.
3. Thou Shalt Not Shove Your Relationship Down People’s Throats
There are many different types of Facebook couples. Some are acceptable, and some are just not. I’m going to focus on the two extremes of FB couples for the purpose of this post. On one hand, there’s the super-lovey-dovey-probably-going-to-get-married-in-a-couple-years-and-call-each-other-stuff-like-Snookums couple. These are the people that take pictures of themselves holding a baby and say they’re preparing for their future, post on each other’s walls every five minutes to say they miss each other even when they’re together, and in the most severe circumstances, even share an account. Gross. There’s nothing wrong with being in love and wanting people to know about it, but there’s a point where people just start praying you break up so they don’t have to deal with you anymore. Speaking of break-ups, that brings me to the second kind of Facebook couple: the jaded-exes-who-viciously-chew-each-other-out-in-statuses-and-posts-and-make-everyone-else-uncomfortable. The only thing worse than the crazy in love couple is the couple who ended on a bad note and don’t care who knows it. It’ll generally start out with subtle sass, but over time it can escalate into full on virtual brawls about someone being a slut or someone having a small dick. It’s funny initially but when it gets to the point where someone threatens to pull a shank on their ex-paramour a line is crossed. So please, if you’re dating someone and happen to both have Facebook, just pretend you don’t know each other.
4. Thou Shalt Not Fish For Compliments
Let’s be real here: Facebook is an opportunity to post flattering pictures of yourself in order to pretend you’re actually good looking when in reality you look a little bit like Steve Buscemi in a wig. It’s a well-known fact. But every once in a while, someone will try to pretend that they aren’t aware of this, and post a photo with a caption like “Ugh I’m so fugly.” in the hopes that someone will be quick to disagree with them. They don’t actually think the picture is ugly. Come on now. No matter how valiantly they try to project the image that they just needed a “temp” picture and just so happened to be hanging out in a ballgown with their hair curled when their webcam accidentally went off, we all know that they probably spent hours scrolling through hundreds of selfies before they found one that perfectly portrayed their ability to smize while looking off to the side mysteriously. If you didn’t like a picture, you wouldn’t post it to Facebook. So instead of fishing for compliments by insulting yourself, just do what most teenage girls do and caption it with a Taylor Swift lyric instead. And if you ever catch someone in the pursuit of compliments? Just answer their “I’m hideous!” with a “Yeah, you are.” Problem solved!
5. Thou Shalt Not Post Attention-Seeking Statuses
Before I begin, let me clearly state that I am a total supporter of freedom of speech and don’t think people should have to censor their thoughts. But I’ll make an exception for Facebook. Most things are a-okay: corny jokes, university acceptances, the occasional video of a cat doing something funny. What isn’t okay? Posting a status that sounds extraordinarily depressed and/or angry and then refusing to answer people when they ask what’s wrong. If you’re not doing it because you genuinely want help, chances are you’re just doing it to spark people’s curiousity and get some attention. And that ain’t cool. What if someday someone is actually extraordinarily depressed and/or angry and actually wants to talk about it, but people ignore them because they assume it’s just another underhanded reference to the heartbreak of being RNR’d? It’s like the boy who cried wolf. But with song lyrics. And sadfaces.
6. Thou Shalt Not Upload A Boob Picture and Get Mad When People Comment On Your Boobs
Let me set the scene: It’s a Wednesday night; you’re super bored and somehow you wind up on Facebook. As you scroll down your feed, you notice that a lot of people have been commenting on someone’s profile picture change, so you decide to check it out. Click. WHAM, BOOBS. Oh, and there’s a face somewhere in the upper left corner. Huh, didn’t even notice. Almost every single picture that is at least 60% boob will be accompanied by the following series of comments:
Commenter: Tits.
Person in Picture: Haha.
Commenter 2: Tittaaaaayyys!
Person in Picture: Um…
Commenter 3: b00bz.
Person in Picture: Cut it out guys, I’m not that kind of girl.
Commenter 4: Rack city bitch.
Commenter 2: Rack rack city bitch.
Person in Picture: Stop it! You’re all so immature.
Commenter 6: ( . Y . )
Person in Picture: OMFG I HATE ALL OF YOU.
Generally the conversation will end with boob-girl giving the commenters a stern lecture about how they’re creepy and gross, and then proceeding to share the photo at least five times just so everyone knows how classy she is. Poor little thing, I bet all she really wants is for someone to comment on her radiant smile and political activism! Ha, I’m funny. But seriously: if you’re going to expose the girls on the internet, be prepared to handle the consequences. An alternate solution is investing in a collection of turtlenecks and scarves. Both could work.
7. Thou Shalt Not Use Hashtags
Self-explanatory. Don’t do it.
8. Thou Shalt Not TyP3 LyK3 Thi$
I’ll accept poor capitalization. Heck, I’ll even accept the occasional misuse of your and you’re or there, their, and they’re. But when people $t@rt t@LkiNg LyK3 Thi$ I Lo$3 mY MiNd. Fact: Typing like that for the sake of this post may have caused me to lose an IQ point. Combining what were perfectly normal letters and symbols into something that bears a resemblance to Wingdings might be a little bit impressive, but it doesn’t make you look cool or artsy. It makes you look illiterate and it hurts my eyes to read unless I put my glasses on. Correct me if I’m mistaken, but I’m pretty sure no elementary school teaches kids to write using @ signs for a’s and $’s for s’s, so why in the world would you ever do that? Perhaps there’s a modified keyboard out there that I haven’t heard about yet, but until someone shows me one I’m just going to say if people don’t start typing in a legible fashion, I will force feed them alphabet soup until they change their ways.
9. Thou Shalt Not Poke
I don’t know why poking exists. I really, really don’t. Can you think of any possible circumstance where virtually jabbing someone with your index finger would be appropriate? No. It can’t be a “we’re in a fight” thing, or the word would have been punch. It can’t be a “Hey, just so you know I’m still around! Why aren’t you answering my texts?” thing because people have walls and inboxes for that. I really hope it’s not a flirty thing like some people seem to think it is, because let me tell you: nothing is less flirtatious than some middle aged man who has no mutual friends with you sending you a “Poke”. I speak from personal experience. So since poking will never accomplish anything other than putting you on a pedophile hotlist, just don’t do it. Maybe Mark Zuckerberg will take the hint and give us a “Punch” option instead.
10. Thou Shalt Not Rage At People For Lurking
There are few things that make less sense than getting angry at someone for lurking you on a website that is essentially built for the express purpose of lurking. I can’t count the number of times I’ve mentioned seeing something on Facebook and received either a snide “Wow, you creeper.” comment or a look that is usually reserved for convicted sex offenders. The most commonly accepted way to react in this situation is to mutter “It was on my home feed…” and attempt to rapidly change the topic, but you know what? Why apologize? I’m sorry, but if you’re going to publish your stuff approximately 9 times in the span of 5 minutes in order to make sure everyone sees it, chances are people are going to lurk the shit out of it. I know I’ve lurked, and I’m not ashamed. I, Hannah White, am a Facebook creep. And I am damn proud of it. We need to stop kidding ourselves: EVERYONE lurks Facebook. Chances are that some kid you went to day camp with when you were eight knows more about you than your current friends do and there are people out there who you have never met but who know your name, all because of lurking. That’s the beauty of the 21st century: People are creepy as hell, and it’s slowly becoming okay. So next time someone mentions your status update from a couple days ago or an awkward snapshot of you in someone’s album, don’t give them sass. Just remember the time you went through someone’s 104 profile pictures in one day, and move on. Unless they know really weird details about you like your dog’s birthday or your cousin’s middle name. That is not common lurking, and you should probably contact the cops.
So there you have it. The Ten Commandments of Facebook. I know they’re a lot to take in, but don’t worry: if you can’t handle them, there’s a nice little home for you on MySpace.
Wednesday, 7 March 2012
KONY 2012: The new Justin Bieber.
Unless you’re living under a rock (in which case I’d really love to know how the hell you have internet access), you’ve probably heard about a little something called “KONY 2012”. Or perhaps “#KONY2012”. Or even “that super long YouTube video that made your mom all emotional”. Now before I begin to talk about this hot topic, I need to state that this is NOT me taking a stance on the KONY 2012 controversy. I’m not endorsing it, and I’m not criticising it. I’m just pointing out a rather startling pattern that I noticed today. What is that pattern you ask? Well in case you didn’t read the title of this (for shame!), KONY 2012 is the new Justin Bieber. Sound far-fetched? Questioning my intellectual capacity like that one commenter who I offended with my critique of the Swiss Chalet holiday commercials? Completely understandable. But hear me out: I think I’m onto something.
Similarity 1: It all started with a video.
For those of you rock-dwellers who aren’t familiar with either Justin Bieber or KONY 2012, let me give you a brief description of how they shot to fame. The Biebz was(is) just a Canadian preteen hangin’ out in his hometown of Stratford, Ontario, when videos in which he exhibited great musical prowess went viral on YouTube. Some Hollywood hotshots took an interest in him, he recorded a single, and BOOM he has his own nail polish (I’m not even going to lie; I own one of the shades). He has now achieved international fame, and all thanks to a video. KONY 2012 is an initiative run by the Invisible Children movement, which was relatively unheard of until (wait for it…) a video they created went viral. Through the power of social media, KONY 2012 became a household name literally overnight. Maybe JB’s rise to fame was slightly more gradual, but you have to admit it: a resemblance is there.
Similarity 2:It’s a love/hate thing.
When things become as famous as Justin Bieber and KONY 2012, people are bound to talk about them. And naturally, people are going to have extremely different opinions. This phenomenon has surrounded Biebzy (I’m trying out some new nicknames) from the start. Many people (predominately individuals who have ovaries and are under the age of 12) just can’t get enough of the Canadian Cutie (…..) and will continue to support him until the inevitable day that his voice drops and/or he actually gets someone pregnant (coincidentally, this is also the day my wildest dreams come true). But of course, he has his share of haters, and well, haterz gon’ hate. For every preteen squealing JB’s name, there’s at least one rotund middle-aged man kvetching about how he represents the downfall of society on his YouTube channel. The case is much the same for KONY 2012. When word first began to spread about KONY, most of it was good. People were stoked to make a difference through the magic of social media, and everyone loves saving kids. But low and behold, a short 24 hours later, popular opinion has split in two. People have begun posting links that criticise Invisible Children for questionable use of funds and promoting the slaughter of children (?). It looks like it just might turn out to be the most debated topic since someone first questioned the authenticity of Nikki Minaj’s ass. So whether your pro Biebz or anti Biebz, a KONY lover or a hater, it’s plain to see that this is yet another thing they share in common.
Similarity 3: They’re EVERYWHERE.
I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s impossible to go a day without seeing or hearing about Justin Bieber. It’s honestly like I’m being haunted by the ghost of his flippy hair from days of old. Open any magazine: Bieber. Turn on TV: Bieber. Facebook? Bieber. Twitter? ALL the Bieber. The guy gets around. KONY 2012 is a newer craze (like I said, it happened overnight) but it felt like everywhere I looked today, I was seeing the hashtag. BBM, Facebook, Twitter, the news, in the hallways of my school, there was no escaping it. Love it or hate it, you have to admit that Invisible Children can sure run one hell of an awareness campaign. While KONY might not yet have its own perfume or Silly Bandz, like the Bieb it too has inspired its own line of merchandise, and people are buying it. I give it a week tops before KONY 2012 support bracelets replace those weird balance bands that people insist make them more athletically competent as the hot new thing in wrist accessories. And let’s not forget the posters. While JB’s posters are predominately glamor shots of him pretending to have street cred and those favored by KONY 2012 are mostly artsy takes on the concept of propaganda, those bad boys cover walls all around the world like tacky wallpaper in an old folks home. Like I said, they’re EVERYWHERE.
Similarity 4: The fan base.
I don’t want to stereotype, but in order for this argument to work I’m going to have to a little bit. Who are most of Justin Bieber’s biggest supporters? Teenage girls. Who’s doing everything they can to get involved with KONY 2012? Teenage girls. Both Biebz and KONY 2012 seem to have an extraordinary power to inspire them to action. Sure, in the case of KONY that action is one of social activism whereas with Bieber it’s generally squealing and whipping training bras at a stage, but their impact is undeniable. So undeniable that even celebrities have taken notice. Bieber counts Usher, Kim Kardashian and Taylor Swift as fans, and he’s even won the Disney approved heart of Selena Gomez. KONY is being supported by stars like Rihanna and Olivia Wilde, and given its viral nature the list is just going to grow. Like Bieber Fever, KONY 2012 is sweeping the world at a rapid pace. Will people remember them? Well in all likelihood, history students 100 years from now are going to think Bieber Fever is “that one plague that wiped out all those people during the Renaissance”, but the KONY initiative might very well be remembered as one of the first big cases of social networking being used to support a charitable cause. Regardless of the controversy of the actual cause, it’s pretty cool how fast a topic can spread through the use of technology. And it’s also hilarious to watch people flip-flop between being pro and con.
In conclusion, I think it’s plain to see a connection here. I for one wouldn’t be at all surprised to hear that the Invisible Children documentary that started it all was released in theaters in stunning 3D. I might be crazy for seeing these similarities, but even if I haven’t convinced you, there’s still one big message to take from this post: If Justin Bieber ever gets involved with the KONY 2012 initiative, the world might explode.
Similarity 1: It all started with a video.
For those of you rock-dwellers who aren’t familiar with either Justin Bieber or KONY 2012, let me give you a brief description of how they shot to fame. The Biebz was(is) just a Canadian preteen hangin’ out in his hometown of Stratford, Ontario, when videos in which he exhibited great musical prowess went viral on YouTube. Some Hollywood hotshots took an interest in him, he recorded a single, and BOOM he has his own nail polish (I’m not even going to lie; I own one of the shades). He has now achieved international fame, and all thanks to a video. KONY 2012 is an initiative run by the Invisible Children movement, which was relatively unheard of until (wait for it…) a video they created went viral. Through the power of social media, KONY 2012 became a household name literally overnight. Maybe JB’s rise to fame was slightly more gradual, but you have to admit it: a resemblance is there.
Similarity 2:It’s a love/hate thing.
When things become as famous as Justin Bieber and KONY 2012, people are bound to talk about them. And naturally, people are going to have extremely different opinions. This phenomenon has surrounded Biebzy (I’m trying out some new nicknames) from the start. Many people (predominately individuals who have ovaries and are under the age of 12) just can’t get enough of the Canadian Cutie (…..) and will continue to support him until the inevitable day that his voice drops and/or he actually gets someone pregnant (coincidentally, this is also the day my wildest dreams come true). But of course, he has his share of haters, and well, haterz gon’ hate. For every preteen squealing JB’s name, there’s at least one rotund middle-aged man kvetching about how he represents the downfall of society on his YouTube channel. The case is much the same for KONY 2012. When word first began to spread about KONY, most of it was good. People were stoked to make a difference through the magic of social media, and everyone loves saving kids. But low and behold, a short 24 hours later, popular opinion has split in two. People have begun posting links that criticise Invisible Children for questionable use of funds and promoting the slaughter of children (?). It looks like it just might turn out to be the most debated topic since someone first questioned the authenticity of Nikki Minaj’s ass. So whether your pro Biebz or anti Biebz, a KONY lover or a hater, it’s plain to see that this is yet another thing they share in common.
Similarity 3: They’re EVERYWHERE.
I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s impossible to go a day without seeing or hearing about Justin Bieber. It’s honestly like I’m being haunted by the ghost of his flippy hair from days of old. Open any magazine: Bieber. Turn on TV: Bieber. Facebook? Bieber. Twitter? ALL the Bieber. The guy gets around. KONY 2012 is a newer craze (like I said, it happened overnight) but it felt like everywhere I looked today, I was seeing the hashtag. BBM, Facebook, Twitter, the news, in the hallways of my school, there was no escaping it. Love it or hate it, you have to admit that Invisible Children can sure run one hell of an awareness campaign. While KONY might not yet have its own perfume or Silly Bandz, like the Bieb it too has inspired its own line of merchandise, and people are buying it. I give it a week tops before KONY 2012 support bracelets replace those weird balance bands that people insist make them more athletically competent as the hot new thing in wrist accessories. And let’s not forget the posters. While JB’s posters are predominately glamor shots of him pretending to have street cred and those favored by KONY 2012 are mostly artsy takes on the concept of propaganda, those bad boys cover walls all around the world like tacky wallpaper in an old folks home. Like I said, they’re EVERYWHERE.
Similarity 4: The fan base.
I don’t want to stereotype, but in order for this argument to work I’m going to have to a little bit. Who are most of Justin Bieber’s biggest supporters? Teenage girls. Who’s doing everything they can to get involved with KONY 2012? Teenage girls. Both Biebz and KONY 2012 seem to have an extraordinary power to inspire them to action. Sure, in the case of KONY that action is one of social activism whereas with Bieber it’s generally squealing and whipping training bras at a stage, but their impact is undeniable. So undeniable that even celebrities have taken notice. Bieber counts Usher, Kim Kardashian and Taylor Swift as fans, and he’s even won the Disney approved heart of Selena Gomez. KONY is being supported by stars like Rihanna and Olivia Wilde, and given its viral nature the list is just going to grow. Like Bieber Fever, KONY 2012 is sweeping the world at a rapid pace. Will people remember them? Well in all likelihood, history students 100 years from now are going to think Bieber Fever is “that one plague that wiped out all those people during the Renaissance”, but the KONY initiative might very well be remembered as one of the first big cases of social networking being used to support a charitable cause. Regardless of the controversy of the actual cause, it’s pretty cool how fast a topic can spread through the use of technology. And it’s also hilarious to watch people flip-flop between being pro and con.
In conclusion, I think it’s plain to see a connection here. I for one wouldn’t be at all surprised to hear that the Invisible Children documentary that started it all was released in theaters in stunning 3D. I might be crazy for seeing these similarities, but even if I haven’t convinced you, there’s still one big message to take from this post: If Justin Bieber ever gets involved with the KONY 2012 initiative, the world might explode.
Tuesday, 31 January 2012
Exam Personalities
January is one giant hangover of a month. After the marathon of festivities that is the holiday season ends with the shitstorm affectionately referred to as New Year’s Eve, everything really seems to go downhill. People get sick, the weather is gross, and it’s pretty much impossible to go an entire day without someone preaching about their resolutions (I’m glad you’re all striving to improve yourselves, but I’m way too lazy to join you and would prefer not to be guilt-tripped about my inaction). As if all of this wasn’t enough, January is also the time of the year when semestered high school students everywhere are forced to contend with a cruel slap in the face in the form of exams. I’m sure some people out there aren’t fazed at all by the prospect of having to remember 3+ months of information about body systems, quadratic functions or verb conjugations, but from what I’ve witnessed it’s enough to make most people a little edgy. After calling upon my observations from the many exam weeks I’ve had to endure throughout the past four years, I’ve compiled a list of the top five “exam personalities” that come out at this time of the year, or as others may refer to them, “five bat shit crazy methods people have for coping with stress”.
Personality 1: The Terminator
Most commonly seen: In the library reading 107 pages of handwritten, colour-coded notes.
Everyone knows at least one Terminator. These are the people who thrive during exam week; they were BORN ready for that shit. Most Terminators start studying at least a month before they actually need to, and don’t stop until someone has to physically pry their notes out of their cold, robot hands. While I totally respect Terminators for their dedication to their studies, a part of me can’t help but be completely terrified of them. There’s just something a little unnatural about committing an entire textbook to memory, and let’s be real: no one wants to be reminded that their study habits are complete garbage in comparison to someone else’s. So, Terminators, do us all a big favour and please, go get obscenely drunk.
Personality 2: The Recovering Drug Addict
Most commonly seen: Double-fisting Red Bulls and looking sweaty.
The Recovering Drug Addict (RDA) is characterized by symptoms similar to those found in (you guessed it!) drug addicts going through withdrawal. Constant shakes, night sweats and jumpiness are frequently seen amongst the RDA population, as well as occasional vomiting and the desire to spontaneously curl up in the fetal position. RDAs also have a tendency to develop a small dependency on caffeine as a way of coping with their stress, which really doesn’t make things any better (the only thing more dangerous than an antsy, shakey person is an even antsier, even shakier person who has to pee a lot). If you suspect that someone you love may be an RDA, a sure-fire method to test your theory is to greet them with a simple handshake. Palms clammy? Grip weak and tremory? You, my friend, have found yourself an RDA. Help them to make it through their troubled time by surrounding them with gentle music and soothing colours. They’ll thank you for it someday.
Personality 3: The Question Master
Most commonly seen: Roaming the halls looking for a specific teacher several hours before school.
It’s not unusual for people to have questions before exams. It’s helpful to have things clarified or to gain some sort of idea about what you’re being tested on, there’s no arguing that. But Question Masters take this notion to a whole new level. Question Masters have been known to come into class with a page full of questions every single day of the week leading up to exams, and usually insist on having them answered in front of the whole class at really inopportune times (ie. When the teacher is reviewing a really hard concept). Every once in a while they’ll ask something that everyone else was wondering about, but most of the time their questions are either a) Not even remotely relevant to what’s on the exam b) Really confusing c)In a foreign language or d) Downright stupid. The point of questions is supposed to be to make things make sense, and their questions usually do the opposite. Their hearts are in the right place, but if worst comes to worst, no one will blame you for tuning out whenever a Question Master raises their hand.
Personality 4: The Sloth
Most commonly seen: Napping.
Out of all the exam personalities out there, the Sloth is easily the least productive one to adopt. Unfortunately, I am a complete Sloth. Sloths like me fail to function like normal human beings during exams, and instead go into a weird state of near hibernation. Any clothing that isn’t made of fleece, spandex, or a breathable cotton-poly blend becomes completely out of the question, and baggy garments with hoods are preferred. No matter how much sleep Sloths get at night, they can’t help but take frequent naps during the day, and often find themselves waking up in a nest of blankets with no prior recollection as to how they got there. The mind of a Sloth is generally groggy and disoriented, causing them to put off any and all forms of studying until the last possible moment. This undoubtedly comes back to bite them in the ass, but hey, at least they have a solid week of laziness to show for it.
Personality 5: The Pregnant Woman
Most commonly seen: Crying whilst destroying a bag of chips and/or tub of icecream and/or rack of ribs.
In a similar fashion to the Recovering Drug Addict’s resemblance to, well, a recovering drug addict, the Pregnant Woman exam personality is eerily comparable to that of, well, a pregnant woman. The Pregnant Woman is a hot mess during exam week. Due to their great emotional instability, they are prone to violent mood swings and frequent outbursts of tears. They also stress eat like no others. No food is off limits to them, and if you try to keep them away from their culinary coping mechanism of choice? God help you. While it is more common for females to take on the Pregnant Woman personality than males, it is not unheard of for guys to sob over a quart of Ben and Jerry’s when stress has gotten the best of them. A piece of advice? DO NOT FUCK WITH THEM. THEY CAN AND WILL DESTROY YOU. And besides, hasn’t anyone ever told you that it’s disrespectful to be rude to someone who’s with child? Gosh.
Hopefully you were able to relate one or two of these personalities to someone you know, or maybe even yourself. At the very least, I hope reading about them has brought a tiny ray of joy to your post-exam recovery time. And if it hasn’t? Good news: Tomorrow’s the first day of February, and the January hangover is coming to an end!
Personality 1: The Terminator
Most commonly seen: In the library reading 107 pages of handwritten, colour-coded notes.
Everyone knows at least one Terminator. These are the people who thrive during exam week; they were BORN ready for that shit. Most Terminators start studying at least a month before they actually need to, and don’t stop until someone has to physically pry their notes out of their cold, robot hands. While I totally respect Terminators for their dedication to their studies, a part of me can’t help but be completely terrified of them. There’s just something a little unnatural about committing an entire textbook to memory, and let’s be real: no one wants to be reminded that their study habits are complete garbage in comparison to someone else’s. So, Terminators, do us all a big favour and please, go get obscenely drunk.
Personality 2: The Recovering Drug Addict
Most commonly seen: Double-fisting Red Bulls and looking sweaty.
The Recovering Drug Addict (RDA) is characterized by symptoms similar to those found in (you guessed it!) drug addicts going through withdrawal. Constant shakes, night sweats and jumpiness are frequently seen amongst the RDA population, as well as occasional vomiting and the desire to spontaneously curl up in the fetal position. RDAs also have a tendency to develop a small dependency on caffeine as a way of coping with their stress, which really doesn’t make things any better (the only thing more dangerous than an antsy, shakey person is an even antsier, even shakier person who has to pee a lot). If you suspect that someone you love may be an RDA, a sure-fire method to test your theory is to greet them with a simple handshake. Palms clammy? Grip weak and tremory? You, my friend, have found yourself an RDA. Help them to make it through their troubled time by surrounding them with gentle music and soothing colours. They’ll thank you for it someday.
Personality 3: The Question Master
Most commonly seen: Roaming the halls looking for a specific teacher several hours before school.
It’s not unusual for people to have questions before exams. It’s helpful to have things clarified or to gain some sort of idea about what you’re being tested on, there’s no arguing that. But Question Masters take this notion to a whole new level. Question Masters have been known to come into class with a page full of questions every single day of the week leading up to exams, and usually insist on having them answered in front of the whole class at really inopportune times (ie. When the teacher is reviewing a really hard concept). Every once in a while they’ll ask something that everyone else was wondering about, but most of the time their questions are either a) Not even remotely relevant to what’s on the exam b) Really confusing c)In a foreign language or d) Downright stupid. The point of questions is supposed to be to make things make sense, and their questions usually do the opposite. Their hearts are in the right place, but if worst comes to worst, no one will blame you for tuning out whenever a Question Master raises their hand.
Personality 4: The Sloth
Most commonly seen: Napping.
Out of all the exam personalities out there, the Sloth is easily the least productive one to adopt. Unfortunately, I am a complete Sloth. Sloths like me fail to function like normal human beings during exams, and instead go into a weird state of near hibernation. Any clothing that isn’t made of fleece, spandex, or a breathable cotton-poly blend becomes completely out of the question, and baggy garments with hoods are preferred. No matter how much sleep Sloths get at night, they can’t help but take frequent naps during the day, and often find themselves waking up in a nest of blankets with no prior recollection as to how they got there. The mind of a Sloth is generally groggy and disoriented, causing them to put off any and all forms of studying until the last possible moment. This undoubtedly comes back to bite them in the ass, but hey, at least they have a solid week of laziness to show for it.
Personality 5: The Pregnant Woman
Most commonly seen: Crying whilst destroying a bag of chips and/or tub of icecream and/or rack of ribs.
In a similar fashion to the Recovering Drug Addict’s resemblance to, well, a recovering drug addict, the Pregnant Woman exam personality is eerily comparable to that of, well, a pregnant woman. The Pregnant Woman is a hot mess during exam week. Due to their great emotional instability, they are prone to violent mood swings and frequent outbursts of tears. They also stress eat like no others. No food is off limits to them, and if you try to keep them away from their culinary coping mechanism of choice? God help you. While it is more common for females to take on the Pregnant Woman personality than males, it is not unheard of for guys to sob over a quart of Ben and Jerry’s when stress has gotten the best of them. A piece of advice? DO NOT FUCK WITH THEM. THEY CAN AND WILL DESTROY YOU. And besides, hasn’t anyone ever told you that it’s disrespectful to be rude to someone who’s with child? Gosh.
Hopefully you were able to relate one or two of these personalities to someone you know, or maybe even yourself. At the very least, I hope reading about them has brought a tiny ray of joy to your post-exam recovery time. And if it hasn’t? Good news: Tomorrow’s the first day of February, and the January hangover is coming to an end!
Monday, 2 January 2012
2011: A Year In Bad Jokes
The beginning of a new year is the perfect time to reflect on the past, embrace the present, and plan for the future. It's also the perfect time to get embarrassingly drunk and throw up on a new, presumably sparkly outfit, and to set goals for self improvement that are guaranteed to fail by March. God bless. In order to celebrate the dawning of 2012, I decided to look back on the wonderfully awful year that was 2011 and utilize my painfully bad sense of humor and the handy dandy interweb to summarize some of the biggest highlights. Brace yourselves folks.
Warning: The following jokes are really, really bad. I use the term "joke" very loosely.
Warning 2: Seriously? You're still going to read them? Are you dumb?
Warning 3: Yep, it would seem that you are in fact dumb. I feel bad. Oh well. Here they are.
William and Kate finally got married after years of courtship, inspiring the fairy tale dreams of young girls everywhere. I’m happy for the couple and won’t make fun of them, but I will point out the fact that Princess Beatrice’s hat totally looked like a uterus.
Charlie Sheen was urged to seek medical attention after reportedly banging enough seven-gram rocks to kill Two and a Half Men.
Justin Bieber’s rise to stardom resulted in many people from his hometown contacting the tabloids with stories from his childhood. The stories were from 2010.
World Hide-and-Seek Champion Osama Bin Laden was killed by the US, but their battle is not over. 7 horcruxes remain.
The Apple iPad achieved wild success despite having a name that makes it sound like a high tech feminine hygiene product.
Jessica Simpson was one of many celebrities to announce a pregnancy. Members of her family have requested that people refrain from referring to it as a "bun in the oven", as they don't want her to spend the next 9 months wondering if it's a baby or a loaf of bread.
Amy Winehouse became one of many celebrities to die tragically young due substance abuse. Listening to her song “Rehab” is now really fucking awkward.
Rebecca Black became famous after releasing a song in which she struggles with great internal conflict over two seat options in a convertible. For the sake of humanity, I pray she never winds up on a half empty bus.
Kim Kardashian and Kris Humphries' elaborate wedding proved to be a waste of money when they divorced after 72 days. Sources close to the family claim that the marriage failed due to the fact that Kim Kardashian realized that her husband was someone who would marry Kim Kardashian.
Tragically, Michelle Duggar miscarried while pregnant with her 20th child. Fortunately, her family has been comforted by statistical evidence that 15% of all "Your Mom" jokes still refer to her.
"Kim Jong Il" is now "Kim Jong Dead."
Chances are you cringed at least three times while reading those and may have broken out in hives. But hey, I told you I'm not in any way funny, and THAT'S what you get for ignoring my warnings. Anyways, Happy New Year everyone! May all of your futile resolutions provide you with temporary hope for the future.
Warning: The following jokes are really, really bad. I use the term "joke" very loosely.
Warning 2: Seriously? You're still going to read them? Are you dumb?
Warning 3: Yep, it would seem that you are in fact dumb. I feel bad. Oh well. Here they are.
William and Kate finally got married after years of courtship, inspiring the fairy tale dreams of young girls everywhere. I’m happy for the couple and won’t make fun of them, but I will point out the fact that Princess Beatrice’s hat totally looked like a uterus.
Charlie Sheen was urged to seek medical attention after reportedly banging enough seven-gram rocks to kill Two and a Half Men.
Justin Bieber’s rise to stardom resulted in many people from his hometown contacting the tabloids with stories from his childhood. The stories were from 2010.
World Hide-and-Seek Champion Osama Bin Laden was killed by the US, but their battle is not over. 7 horcruxes remain.
The Apple iPad achieved wild success despite having a name that makes it sound like a high tech feminine hygiene product.
Jessica Simpson was one of many celebrities to announce a pregnancy. Members of her family have requested that people refrain from referring to it as a "bun in the oven", as they don't want her to spend the next 9 months wondering if it's a baby or a loaf of bread.
Amy Winehouse became one of many celebrities to die tragically young due substance abuse. Listening to her song “Rehab” is now really fucking awkward.
Rebecca Black became famous after releasing a song in which she struggles with great internal conflict over two seat options in a convertible. For the sake of humanity, I pray she never winds up on a half empty bus.
Kim Kardashian and Kris Humphries' elaborate wedding proved to be a waste of money when they divorced after 72 days. Sources close to the family claim that the marriage failed due to the fact that Kim Kardashian realized that her husband was someone who would marry Kim Kardashian.
Tragically, Michelle Duggar miscarried while pregnant with her 20th child. Fortunately, her family has been comforted by statistical evidence that 15% of all "Your Mom" jokes still refer to her.
"Kim Jong Il" is now "Kim Jong Dead."
Chances are you cringed at least three times while reading those and may have broken out in hives. But hey, I told you I'm not in any way funny, and THAT'S what you get for ignoring my warnings. Anyways, Happy New Year everyone! May all of your futile resolutions provide you with temporary hope for the future.
Monday, 26 December 2011
Things I Learned This Christmas
For most people, the holidays are a truly special time full of family, friends, and unspoken social customs governing everything from the greetings you can use to just HOW much nutmeg is acceptable when garnishing eggnog. In my case, however, “the most wonderful time of the year” is mostly just characterized by my baking addiction coming to the surface in the form of a frightening quantity of gingerbread cookies, and by me ceasing to wear anything that doesn’t have an elastic waistband. It’s a pretty swell time. But besides being the prime time for me to embrace my inner sloth, the holidays also never fail to provide a great learning opportunity for me. I come from a decently big family on both my Mom and Dad’s sides, so it’s a given that wacky hijinks never fail to ensue at our annual gatherings. This year did not disappoint. Over many glasses of wine, multiple turkeys and an impressive number of cocktail shrimp, the things my relatives said and did this year taught me four valuable lessons that I have listed below for the benefit of the (maybe two) people who are reading this.
Lesson 1
On the morning of Christmas Eve (I feel like that’s an oxymoron), my family collected in the home of my Aunt and Uncle for brunch. Upon arriving at 11am, I was completely heartbroken by a tragic lack of bacon, but my thoughts were soon diverted by an exchange I witnessed between my mom and my Aunt.
Aunt: “Can I get you anything to drink?”
Mom: “I don’t know, it’s kind of early.”
Aunt: “It’s after 10:30.”
Mom: “That’s true! What do you have?”
They then proceeded to get their drink on along with every other member of my family over the age of 14. You might be thinking “Oh, that’s not weird! My family has champagne at brunch all the time.” This was not champagne. This was screwdrivers, rum and cokes, beer, and other things that have been the downfall of many an Irishman. While I find it sort of respectable that my relatives are capable of going so hard in the seasonal paint, the fact that this happens decently often has started to be a source of mild concern. And let’s be real, no one should be hungover before 2pm.
Lesson Learned: I have a genetic predisposition to alcoholism.
Lesson 2
After everyone was fully saturated with food-and-booze-induced shame at the aforementioned brunch, the relationship statuses of the younger generation of our family came up in conversation. This is always an awkward subject for me to participate in due to the fact that 98.3% of the Forever Single jokes people make refer to me, but there’s 10 of us cousins and I’m usually not the only one flying solo so I just smile and try not to get bitter enough that I turn into the Incredible Hulk (it happens). But this year was different. Not one, not two, but 6 out of the 10 of us are now happily coupled up. That might not sound bad, but you have to take in the fact that 2 of the 4 of us who are still single are under the age of ten, and even then they probably have more wheels than I do. As I contemplated fashioning myself a noose out of tinsel, I was forced to endure excruciating looks of pity and several half-hearted choruses of “You’ll find someone someday!” Thanks, family, for holding on to hope, but I’m resigned to my fate as a crazy cat lady. Even if I am really fucking allergic to cats and will have to drink at least 4 liters of Benedryl a day in order to survive.
Lesson Learned: I may die alone and I hate everyone.
Lesson 3
Later on that day, my Dad’s side of the family came over for dinner and drinks (I wasn’t kidding about the alcoholism thing.) My relatives are awesome folks, but there’s one conversation I always have with them that is several shades of uncomfortable. Yesterday, it went as follows:
Relative: “Hi, dear! How’s school going?”
Me: “Pretty good! I’m definitely enjoying being off for a while though.”
Relative: “I bet! My, you’ve gotten so slim!”
Me: “Gee, thanks!”
This might sound like a nice little chat, but the actual translation is something more like this:
Relative: “Hi, dear! How’s school going?”
Me: “Pretty good! I’m definitely enjoying being off for a while though.”
Relative: “I bet! But holy shit, you’re a lot less fat than you used to be! For a while there you seriously looked like Jonah Hill. Except less pretty.”
Me: “I’m really uncomfortable and don’t know how to reply to your backhanded compliment other than with a thank you.”
Anyone who was a hefty child or large and in charge during their preteen phase can hopefully sympathize with this ordeal. While most people who comment on your improved appearance think they’re being nice, it really just serves as a reminder that you had baby fat until you were 15 years old and Fritos used to be your only friend. But since it was Christmas, I tried to let it slide. After all, it’s the thought that counts. Even if that thought makes you die a little inside every time it’s expressed.
Lesson Learned: My fat years did NOT go unnoticed.
Lesson 4
Christmas day in my house was spent in a frenzy of cooking and cleaning in the cases of my Mom, Dad, and sister, and eating and napping in the case of me. But despite me taking one for the team and keeping to myself to avoid interfering with their activities, the day was not without conflict. The main source of it? The soundtrack. The members of my household have very differing opinions on what constitutes good music; my Dad’s a little bit country, I’m a little bit rock and roll, and my Mom thought Friday by Rebecca Black “wasn’t that bad” which really tells you all you need to know. So needless to say, it’s pretty damn hard for us to agree on festive beats without someone becoming bitter and hostile. But after hours of sparring over radio station changes and one strategically misplaced Jessica Simpson holiday album (you’re welcome, world), a miracle occurred. And that miracle’s name was Michael Buble. Roughly one minute into his chilling rendition of “It’s a Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas”, a magical calm fell over us all. There was humming, there was smiling, and I’m pretty sure I saw my Dad swoon a little. And man, I don’t blame him. I want The Bub to live in my closet so he can serenade me whenever I want. Either that, or I’ll have to go all Ursula from The Little Mermaid on his ass and steal his voice for myself. Can you imagine all the guys I’d get if I sounded like that? …Yeah, probably none, but that’s okay. Like I said, I plan to invest in multiple cats. Anyways, the moral of the story here is that Michael Buble has the voice of an angel and I want to bear his children.
Lesson Learned: Michael Buble has the voice of an angel and I want to bear his children.
All in all, this Christmas was pretty awesome. Not only did I gain a fantastic layer of celebration insulation (that means fat for you laymen), but also a vast wealth of knowledge at the hands of my relatives. And you know what? I think that’s what the holidays are really about. It’s not the presents, the decorations, or the music; all that matters is the embarrassingly inebriated people you spend them with. Happy first day of Kwanzaa everyone!
Lesson 1
On the morning of Christmas Eve (I feel like that’s an oxymoron), my family collected in the home of my Aunt and Uncle for brunch. Upon arriving at 11am, I was completely heartbroken by a tragic lack of bacon, but my thoughts were soon diverted by an exchange I witnessed between my mom and my Aunt.
Aunt: “Can I get you anything to drink?”
Mom: “I don’t know, it’s kind of early.”
Aunt: “It’s after 10:30.”
Mom: “That’s true! What do you have?”
They then proceeded to get their drink on along with every other member of my family over the age of 14. You might be thinking “Oh, that’s not weird! My family has champagne at brunch all the time.” This was not champagne. This was screwdrivers, rum and cokes, beer, and other things that have been the downfall of many an Irishman. While I find it sort of respectable that my relatives are capable of going so hard in the seasonal paint, the fact that this happens decently often has started to be a source of mild concern. And let’s be real, no one should be hungover before 2pm.
Lesson Learned: I have a genetic predisposition to alcoholism.
Lesson 2
After everyone was fully saturated with food-and-booze-induced shame at the aforementioned brunch, the relationship statuses of the younger generation of our family came up in conversation. This is always an awkward subject for me to participate in due to the fact that 98.3% of the Forever Single jokes people make refer to me, but there’s 10 of us cousins and I’m usually not the only one flying solo so I just smile and try not to get bitter enough that I turn into the Incredible Hulk (it happens). But this year was different. Not one, not two, but 6 out of the 10 of us are now happily coupled up. That might not sound bad, but you have to take in the fact that 2 of the 4 of us who are still single are under the age of ten, and even then they probably have more wheels than I do. As I contemplated fashioning myself a noose out of tinsel, I was forced to endure excruciating looks of pity and several half-hearted choruses of “You’ll find someone someday!” Thanks, family, for holding on to hope, but I’m resigned to my fate as a crazy cat lady. Even if I am really fucking allergic to cats and will have to drink at least 4 liters of Benedryl a day in order to survive.
Lesson Learned: I may die alone and I hate everyone.
Lesson 3
Later on that day, my Dad’s side of the family came over for dinner and drinks (I wasn’t kidding about the alcoholism thing.) My relatives are awesome folks, but there’s one conversation I always have with them that is several shades of uncomfortable. Yesterday, it went as follows:
Relative: “Hi, dear! How’s school going?”
Me: “Pretty good! I’m definitely enjoying being off for a while though.”
Relative: “I bet! My, you’ve gotten so slim!”
Me: “Gee, thanks!”
This might sound like a nice little chat, but the actual translation is something more like this:
Relative: “Hi, dear! How’s school going?”
Me: “Pretty good! I’m definitely enjoying being off for a while though.”
Relative: “I bet! But holy shit, you’re a lot less fat than you used to be! For a while there you seriously looked like Jonah Hill. Except less pretty.”
Me: “I’m really uncomfortable and don’t know how to reply to your backhanded compliment other than with a thank you.”
Anyone who was a hefty child or large and in charge during their preteen phase can hopefully sympathize with this ordeal. While most people who comment on your improved appearance think they’re being nice, it really just serves as a reminder that you had baby fat until you were 15 years old and Fritos used to be your only friend. But since it was Christmas, I tried to let it slide. After all, it’s the thought that counts. Even if that thought makes you die a little inside every time it’s expressed.
Lesson Learned: My fat years did NOT go unnoticed.
Lesson 4
Christmas day in my house was spent in a frenzy of cooking and cleaning in the cases of my Mom, Dad, and sister, and eating and napping in the case of me. But despite me taking one for the team and keeping to myself to avoid interfering with their activities, the day was not without conflict. The main source of it? The soundtrack. The members of my household have very differing opinions on what constitutes good music; my Dad’s a little bit country, I’m a little bit rock and roll, and my Mom thought Friday by Rebecca Black “wasn’t that bad” which really tells you all you need to know. So needless to say, it’s pretty damn hard for us to agree on festive beats without someone becoming bitter and hostile. But after hours of sparring over radio station changes and one strategically misplaced Jessica Simpson holiday album (you’re welcome, world), a miracle occurred. And that miracle’s name was Michael Buble. Roughly one minute into his chilling rendition of “It’s a Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas”, a magical calm fell over us all. There was humming, there was smiling, and I’m pretty sure I saw my Dad swoon a little. And man, I don’t blame him. I want The Bub to live in my closet so he can serenade me whenever I want. Either that, or I’ll have to go all Ursula from The Little Mermaid on his ass and steal his voice for myself. Can you imagine all the guys I’d get if I sounded like that? …Yeah, probably none, but that’s okay. Like I said, I plan to invest in multiple cats. Anyways, the moral of the story here is that Michael Buble has the voice of an angel and I want to bear his children.
Lesson Learned: Michael Buble has the voice of an angel and I want to bear his children.
All in all, this Christmas was pretty awesome. Not only did I gain a fantastic layer of celebration insulation (that means fat for you laymen), but also a vast wealth of knowledge at the hands of my relatives. And you know what? I think that’s what the holidays are really about. It’s not the presents, the decorations, or the music; all that matters is the embarrassingly inebriated people you spend them with. Happy first day of Kwanzaa everyone!
Tuesday, 20 December 2011
The Most 5 Irksome Types of People During the Holidays
It's that time of the year again. Halls are being decked, dreidels are being spun, and mall Santa's are being painfully underpaid to put up with hundreds of children crawling all over them. The magic of the holidays (Am I allowed to say holidays? Is that politically incorrect now?) has returned. But unfortunately, along with this magic comes a horrible consequence. And that consequence is five kinds of super annoying people who come out, guns blazing, at this time every year. Who are these pains in the neck of the season you ask? Well, I'll tell you.
1. The person who talks endlessly about their wishlist.
Catch phrase: "OMG, I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO ASK FOR THIS YEAR!"
Description: During childhood, almost everyone falls into this category, and in all fairness the greediness of the young can almost be perceived as cute. Their demands to Santa are sloppily written on scraps of paper and mailed to the North Pole, and I must say that I admire their dedication. However, after a certain age, constantly telling people your gift expectations stops being adorable and just makes everyone want to hit you in the face, possibly with a menorah or Christmas wreath just for added effect. I don't want to be that person who burdens you with crippling guilt about all things festive (see number 3), but with maturity should come an understanding that gifts are a privilege, not a right. Conjuring up a wishlist in your head and being super stoked about the gifts you DO end up receiving is more than okay, but ranting about the heart-wrenching conflict of whether to request an iPhone or a Blackberry as your stocking stuffer just makes you sound like a spoiled four year old. So unless you ARE a spoiled four year old (in which case I'm deeply sorry for being rude and I really hope you get that pony you asked for), do yourself and everyone else a favour and please shut up.
2. The person who makes gift-giving into a competition.
Catch phrase: "I know we agreed on a $20 limit, but I just had to get you this!"
Description: Before I begin, it needs to be established that this particular class of holiday monstrosity is not to be confused with the kind, generous souls who give people extravagant gifts out of the goodness of their heart. Those people are awesome. I love those people. But these are not those people. Everyone knows at least one person who manages to take the jolly activity of gift giving and warp it into a cutthroat competition that may or may not involve tears and/or blood shed. This is the person who hears what you're getting someone, and gets the same person five of the same thing just to outdo you. Buy someone a CD by their favourite artist? Ha,amateur. They'll get them tickets to the concert, an autographed poster AND backstage passes. Make someone a heartfelt construction paper card? Good try! Theirs will have a more touching message, be decorated with glitter glue and probably sing when you open it. No matter what you do, they'll always do it better. And while it may be nice for the recipient of the gift, the awesomeness of the presents will always be tainted by the evil intentions behind them. So please, gift one-uppers? Stop making the rest of us look bad and just start giving people soap or something.
3. The person who burdens you with crippling guilt about all things festive.
Catch phrase: Anything full of thinly veiled condescension.
Description: This class of holiday ruiner is perhaps the most varied and despicable of the five. These people are characterized by their unnerving ability to leech the fun out of traditional activities and leave behind a horrible feeling of guilt in its place. We've all been there: you're at some sort of festive gathering where people are exchanging gifts, and notice that one person is empty-handed. "Well gee," you say to the person "Did your Secret Santa forget your gift?" THIS IS ALWAYS A MISTAKE. The individual can smell your misguided pity from a mile away, and will quickly chime in with something like "I've actually requested not to receive any gifts this year, or any year for that matter, until poverty is resolved worldwide. If children in Ethiopia can't have Secret Santa gifts, neither can I." After that, shit just gets awkward. Suddenly your happy little party turns into a disgusting display of excess and you can't get the image of little Mowgli working in a sweatshop for pennies a day out of your head. Similarly awful is the person with logic-defying self restraint who watches you shovel down pumpkin pie with an expression laced with horror and disgust. "You know there's like two thousand calories in the crust alone, right?" Yes, I am aware, thank you. And now I'm feeling nice and guilty. But do I give a fuck? No. So leave me and my pie alone, this ain't the season to harp on people about their food intake. And by the way, while you're freezing your ass off with a watchful eye kept on the scale? I'll be warm and toasty in my feasting pants thanks to my convenient layer of holiday fat. That's what's up.
4. The person who basically spews tinsel every time they speak from November until January.
Catch phrase: "5 MORE WEEKS UNTIL CHRISTMAS/HANUKKAH/KWANZAA!!!1!!!1!!1!!!!"
Description: A little bit of holiday spirit goes a long way. While it is definitely important to embrace this special time of the year as the magical occasion it is, there is such a thing as taking it too far. How far is too far you ask? Starting your Christmas countdown in October seems like a good place to start. It's crazy enough that stores are putting out their seasonal merchandise earlier and earlier with every passing year, so when you toss in someone singing carols two days after Halloween, it's a bit too much to handle. As if the premature nature of these individuals' excitement wasn't enough, it increases in magnitude with every passing day as they draw nearer to the event dearest to their heart. Christmas fanatics are the most intense of all, and become downright intolerable by the time mid-December rolls around. Avoiding these people is one of the keys to surviving the season, and can be managed by learning to recognize telltale signs. Tacky sweaters and an unusually jolly disposition are often good clues, but two surefire giveaways are the wearing of a flashing Christmas light necklace or reindeer antlers. If an individual is observed with either of these items on their person, get out of there fast. Your sanity depends on it.
5. The person who won't shut up about how Christmas is a capitalistic tradition.
Catch phrase: "Jesus wasn't even born in the winter."
Description: I'll keep this one brief, since everyone knows the kind of person I'm talking about. They're the ones that kill your buzz by criticizing all the traditions of Christmas and reminding you that holidays are "just an elaborate ruse created by the government and the greeting card industry to turn a profit". And I guess that may be true, but so what? The cash cow that is December is one of the best months of the year, and I for one am not going to let it be ruined by conspiracy theories. So rant all you want, I'm still going to spend obscene amounts of money on my friends and family, and I'm going to enjoy every minute of it.
If you or someone you know bears an uncanny resemblance to any of the stereotypes listed above, I'm sorry if I came across as Scroogey in my criticism. I'm sure you're an awesome person, and look on the bright side: maybe this will help you to become less annoying! Because really, isn't trying to piss people off less than usual what the festive season is all about? Happy holidays!
1. The person who talks endlessly about their wishlist.
Catch phrase: "OMG, I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO ASK FOR THIS YEAR!"
Description: During childhood, almost everyone falls into this category, and in all fairness the greediness of the young can almost be perceived as cute. Their demands to Santa are sloppily written on scraps of paper and mailed to the North Pole, and I must say that I admire their dedication. However, after a certain age, constantly telling people your gift expectations stops being adorable and just makes everyone want to hit you in the face, possibly with a menorah or Christmas wreath just for added effect. I don't want to be that person who burdens you with crippling guilt about all things festive (see number 3), but with maturity should come an understanding that gifts are a privilege, not a right. Conjuring up a wishlist in your head and being super stoked about the gifts you DO end up receiving is more than okay, but ranting about the heart-wrenching conflict of whether to request an iPhone or a Blackberry as your stocking stuffer just makes you sound like a spoiled four year old. So unless you ARE a spoiled four year old (in which case I'm deeply sorry for being rude and I really hope you get that pony you asked for), do yourself and everyone else a favour and please shut up.
2. The person who makes gift-giving into a competition.
Catch phrase: "I know we agreed on a $20 limit, but I just had to get you this!"
Description: Before I begin, it needs to be established that this particular class of holiday monstrosity is not to be confused with the kind, generous souls who give people extravagant gifts out of the goodness of their heart. Those people are awesome. I love those people. But these are not those people. Everyone knows at least one person who manages to take the jolly activity of gift giving and warp it into a cutthroat competition that may or may not involve tears and/or blood shed. This is the person who hears what you're getting someone, and gets the same person five of the same thing just to outdo you. Buy someone a CD by their favourite artist? Ha,amateur. They'll get them tickets to the concert, an autographed poster AND backstage passes. Make someone a heartfelt construction paper card? Good try! Theirs will have a more touching message, be decorated with glitter glue and probably sing when you open it. No matter what you do, they'll always do it better. And while it may be nice for the recipient of the gift, the awesomeness of the presents will always be tainted by the evil intentions behind them. So please, gift one-uppers? Stop making the rest of us look bad and just start giving people soap or something.
3. The person who burdens you with crippling guilt about all things festive.
Catch phrase: Anything full of thinly veiled condescension.
Description: This class of holiday ruiner is perhaps the most varied and despicable of the five. These people are characterized by their unnerving ability to leech the fun out of traditional activities and leave behind a horrible feeling of guilt in its place. We've all been there: you're at some sort of festive gathering where people are exchanging gifts, and notice that one person is empty-handed. "Well gee," you say to the person "Did your Secret Santa forget your gift?" THIS IS ALWAYS A MISTAKE. The individual can smell your misguided pity from a mile away, and will quickly chime in with something like "I've actually requested not to receive any gifts this year, or any year for that matter, until poverty is resolved worldwide. If children in Ethiopia can't have Secret Santa gifts, neither can I." After that, shit just gets awkward. Suddenly your happy little party turns into a disgusting display of excess and you can't get the image of little Mowgli working in a sweatshop for pennies a day out of your head. Similarly awful is the person with logic-defying self restraint who watches you shovel down pumpkin pie with an expression laced with horror and disgust. "You know there's like two thousand calories in the crust alone, right?" Yes, I am aware, thank you. And now I'm feeling nice and guilty. But do I give a fuck? No. So leave me and my pie alone, this ain't the season to harp on people about their food intake. And by the way, while you're freezing your ass off with a watchful eye kept on the scale? I'll be warm and toasty in my feasting pants thanks to my convenient layer of holiday fat. That's what's up.
4. The person who basically spews tinsel every time they speak from November until January.
Catch phrase: "5 MORE WEEKS UNTIL CHRISTMAS/HANUKKAH/KWANZAA!!!1!!!1!!1!!!!"
Description: A little bit of holiday spirit goes a long way. While it is definitely important to embrace this special time of the year as the magical occasion it is, there is such a thing as taking it too far. How far is too far you ask? Starting your Christmas countdown in October seems like a good place to start. It's crazy enough that stores are putting out their seasonal merchandise earlier and earlier with every passing year, so when you toss in someone singing carols two days after Halloween, it's a bit too much to handle. As if the premature nature of these individuals' excitement wasn't enough, it increases in magnitude with every passing day as they draw nearer to the event dearest to their heart. Christmas fanatics are the most intense of all, and become downright intolerable by the time mid-December rolls around. Avoiding these people is one of the keys to surviving the season, and can be managed by learning to recognize telltale signs. Tacky sweaters and an unusually jolly disposition are often good clues, but two surefire giveaways are the wearing of a flashing Christmas light necklace or reindeer antlers. If an individual is observed with either of these items on their person, get out of there fast. Your sanity depends on it.
5. The person who won't shut up about how Christmas is a capitalistic tradition.
Catch phrase: "Jesus wasn't even born in the winter."
Description: I'll keep this one brief, since everyone knows the kind of person I'm talking about. They're the ones that kill your buzz by criticizing all the traditions of Christmas and reminding you that holidays are "just an elaborate ruse created by the government and the greeting card industry to turn a profit". And I guess that may be true, but so what? The cash cow that is December is one of the best months of the year, and I for one am not going to let it be ruined by conspiracy theories. So rant all you want, I'm still going to spend obscene amounts of money on my friends and family, and I'm going to enjoy every minute of it.
If you or someone you know bears an uncanny resemblance to any of the stereotypes listed above, I'm sorry if I came across as Scroogey in my criticism. I'm sure you're an awesome person, and look on the bright side: maybe this will help you to become less annoying! Because really, isn't trying to piss people off less than usual what the festive season is all about? Happy holidays!
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