<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674</id><updated>2011-07-07T22:34:55.031-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I win at life.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>39</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-4869605233187440756</id><published>2009-06-01T21:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T22:23:45.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Never a shortage of Hot Ghetto Mess</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A dear reader of mine enjoyed my last two posts so much that she asked me to do another.  At first, I thought, "Ehh...I already did it twice in a row...should I really jump into making a third?"  Then I thought..."Ehh..if people don't like it, they don't have to read it.  Ain't choice grand?"  So...here it is!  But after this, I will do my best to write more substantial blogs...then get back to the ripping :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; So, w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ithout further ado...Hot Ghetto Mess part Three!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs021.snc1/4250_1126664737860_1564428949_295722_6794648_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 345px; height: 520px;" src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs021.snc1/4250_1126664737860_1564428949_295722_6794648_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Is this a joke?  It better be!  The dress is fugly enough as it is, but the man with the palm tree hair ain't working it.  If he is a transvestive, fine, whatever, doesn't hurt my life.  But that hair...I can't get past the hair.  Only this guy can pull it off:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://havanta.files.wordpress.com/2006/11/side-show-bob.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 279px; height: 298px;" src="http://havanta.files.wordpress.com/2006/11/side-show-bob.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs044.snc1/4412_1082830547797_1137346880_30219258_7433715_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 601px;" src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs044.snc1/4412_1082830547797_1137346880_30219258_7433715_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Completely uncalled for.  See, this picture would have been acceptable if she hadn't exposed her ass scabies to the entire world!  And she's rubbing her hand all over them, too!  Boys: watch out for this one...if she starts offering half-price for handjobs, then you're in serious trouble!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v4412/248/97/1137346880/n1137346880_30219259_5849614.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 598px;" src="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v4412/248/97/1137346880/n1137346880_30219259_5849614.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Broke ass Bell-Biv-Devoe.  If this is for a prom, I can only imagine their mothers clutching their chests in horror upon receiving these photos.  Any woman who finds this cute is a damn bimbo.  Cheap scotch and Monopoly money don't make you cool...they make you look like a stupid hot mess.  The guy on the left looks like he's pinching a hot, buttery loaf.  The one in the middle is probably thinking about using his ill-gotten money for some chapstick and lotion.  And the one on the right looks like a dumbass Flava Flav.  Mmm-mm.  I'm not impressed, boys.  When you are in your caps and gowns and holding that diploma or degree, then I'll be impressed.  Not your cheap polyester suits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v4412/248/97/1137346880/n1137346880_30219255_5032499.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 450px; height: 299px;" src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v4412/248/97/1137346880/n1137346880_30219255_5032499.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The caption says it all...I don't know what possessed you to pull up your shirts and expose your swollen uterine-puppy casings to the world.  You just wait until that baby is waking you up at all hours, costing you your money, time, and education, and generally driving you crazy...bet your smirk asses won't be smiling then.  Oh, and let's not forget the bodies...you can kiss your youthful figures Sayonara, Adios, Au Revoir, and GOODBYE.  Sucks for you...see you in 15 years when I'll still be childfree :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs044.snc1/4412_1082830467795_1137346880_30219256_4718312_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs044.snc1/4412_1082830467795_1137346880_30219256_4718312_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Now, see...if she would just take those cheap, 50-cents-at-the-flea-market beads out of her mouth, she'd have all of her teeth!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs005.snc1/2810_1077636217942_1137346880_30204236_7022752_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 272px;" src="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs005.snc1/2810_1077636217942_1137346880_30204236_7022752_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hmmm...nothing like the raw, parasite-infested innards of dead pigs to cover your shame.  Best of luck, honey.  Here's hoping that you don't get worms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs003.snc1/4150_93635139306_577289306_2455771_1300677_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 453px; height: 604px;" src="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs003.snc1/4150_93635139306_577289306_2455771_1300677_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Three words: HELL FUCKING NO.  This is why my tats are in places where they can easily be hidden.  This is easy birth control: just think of your dear, nekkid granny if you need to abstain from the bouncy-bouncy for a while.  Because this just about ruined all my glorious fantasies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/l_20b80af2bfa54a598352866d56e88823.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 616px;" src="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/l_20b80af2bfa54a598352866d56e88823.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That underwear is just straight disgusting.  It looks like your fat busted the seams.  Nice work on the housekeeping, though.  I better not see any Steak-Umm grease or Kool-Aid stains on the floor in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/l_8410cc692e744cc591ddb908cc029557.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/l_8410cc692e744cc591ddb908cc029557.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ewwwhewww!!!  Last time I checked, Kimora Lee didn't need you to advertise her product on your ass.  And what the hell are those supposed to be?  Rotten strawberries?  And right near your fart-hole, too, which needs a serious de-bumping.  And I don't even think I want to know what that red string is for.  I have to wonder if this individual was able to sit after this abomination was completed.  Was it worth it?  I say no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/real.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 600px;" src="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/real.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;No, madam.  This does not pass the cute test.  For one thing...you're ugly.  Sorry, I'd hate to be the one to break it to you, but I could slice a ham on your face.  Second...use your curves to your advantage.  You just look sad and pudgy.  Third: in front of a child?  I guess nothing is sacred anymore.  Now get the hell off the hood before you dent the engine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/gayashell.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 600px;" src="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/gayashell.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"I'm a maaaaaannnn.....without conviction...."   Yet.  Dude...at least have the fortitude to have matching undies.  And what's with the double navel?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that'll do for now :)  Off to bed I go.  Ciao ciao!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-4869605233187440756?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/4869605233187440756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=4869605233187440756' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/4869605233187440756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/4869605233187440756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2009/06/never-shortage-of-hot-ghetto-mess.html' title='Never a shortage of Hot Ghetto Mess'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-8067149869441044773</id><published>2009-05-04T20:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T22:00:58.545-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hot Ghetto Mess! (deux)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You know, I really enjoyed my last post.  I enjoyed it so much that I think I'll do another!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;*apologies in advance for any repeats*&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs009.snc1/2874_1076278904010_1137346880_30201222_5303694_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 534px;" src="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs009.snc1/2874_1076278904010_1137346880_30201222_5303694_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;They're trrrrrrrrrrippin!  And just what in the name of twinkly turds is so great about a piece of oversized jewelry that resembles some overrated cereal?  But then again, I can't blame the fellow.  His mismanagement of his money has only allowed him to achieve bootleg CDs.  Come on, my brother.  All the cool musicians hustle by offering a free MP3 or two.  And shave that shit off your head.  Nobody likes Kid N Play anymore.  What would your grandmama say?&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2711/248/97/1137346880/n1137346880_30189603_7910357.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 533px; height: 400px;" src="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2711/248/97/1137346880/n1137346880_30189603_7910357.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Man your stations, mateys, it's Moby Whip!  Ohhhh, my sister.  That is just all kinds of different shades of nasty.  Your pussy looks like it's oozing AIDS.  And you missed SEVERAL sections on your Monstitties (Monster Titties).  And I won't even get started on the blindfold, satin cap, and the rubber husband in the background.  I can only hope that you were not aware that you were having your photo taken, and if that is the case, then I truly feel for you.  But...I am going to be an asshole and assume that it is not the case! :)  Thanks to you, you have ruined Reddi Whip for me for the rest of my sweets-loving life.  I hope your waterbed-looking ass is happy!&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs021.snc1/3051_96550965179_529455179_2932586_4354514_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs021.snc1/3051_96550965179_529455179_2932586_4354514_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You know, this could be an interesting trend...tops that go OVER the titties!  Ingenious!  Sweetheart, I have a huge rack, as well, and I assure you, they do make fashionable clothes in our size.  Quit lying to yourself.  You are not a junior.  You are large.  Large Marge, almost.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs021.snc1/3051_96550975179_529455179_2932587_2319781_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs021.snc1/3051_96550975179_529455179_2932587_2319781_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And just what is this?  Did the Bat-Ass get hungry and eat your panties?  Not cute, my dear.  Not cute at ALL!&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs021.snc1/3051_96550950179_529455179_2932584_7483867_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 338px; height: 480px;" src="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs021.snc1/3051_96550950179_529455179_2932584_7483867_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Okay, maybe my readers can help me out:  what the fuck is going on in this pic??  I'm just going to go on what I can see: Numero uno - this is clearly a Wal-Mart photo.  The quality is just dull.  And I wouldn't expect anything more from backwater mutants like these.  The young lady on the right looks relatively normal, so I will leave her be.  But not YOU, fist-man and fish-face!  Put that goddamned fist down, you look like a fool and a quarter.  And you look too damned old for those funky braids; no respectable person has liked Milli Vanilli for almost 20 years.  And to the wildebeest on the left...a prime example of why I have never colored my hair.  Do you want to be a brunette or a blonde?  Pick one, not both!  And your pose looks like you're proudly holding your benefit check from Uncle Sam.  Ewww...I can seriously smell the dog pee through the screen.  NEXT!&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs026.snc1/3133_1101865877904_1564428949_233213_6345491_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 452px; height: 604px;" src="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs026.snc1/3133_1101865877904_1564428949_233213_6345491_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Absolutely, positively no excuse.  Come on, people.  You know better than to let a rabid skunk out on the loose.  Bad, stank things can happen.  Don't let it happen again.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs026.snc1/3133_1101865797902_1564428949_233211_3681309_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 510px; height: 604px;" src="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs026.snc1/3133_1101865797902_1564428949_233211_3681309_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Could this be the newest inspiration for a "Raggely Andy" doll?  I respect the creativity, but dude...really...less is more.  Your head looks like a volcano.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs021.snc1/3051_91674760179_529455179_2890485_736481_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 401px; height: 603px;" src="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs021.snc1/3051_91674760179_529455179_2890485_736481_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;1. I wish that I didn't have to look at your speckled moobs.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;2. I wish that you would return Mr. T's gold.  He's fucking pissed.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;3. I wish that you didn't look like you were holding in the Mother of All Farts.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Done, done, and done.  Now kindly get back in your magic lamp.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs026.snc1/3133_1100574725626_1564428949_230364_1458914_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 437px; height: 604px;" src="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs026.snc1/3133_1100574725626_1564428949_230364_1458914_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It's Technicolor Fo-Punzel!  Who knew that you could take some cotton candy and make a stylish hairstyle?  Oh, the possibilities of this world!&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2711/248/97/1137346880/n1137346880_30179732_8183385.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 350px; height: 467px;" src="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2711/248/97/1137346880/n1137346880_30179732_8183385.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Oh, come on, you guys, what did you expect?  Surely she couldn't be bothered to wear matching undies and clean her surroundings before taking a slutty picture.  Did you really expect her to flush that Herculean turd down the toilet, or at least close the lid?  And it's a pretty safe bet that she did not wash her hands.  As someone else so eloquently pointed out: "Dat's just narrrrsty!"  And I am inclined to agree.  Go wash your ass, honey.  And get a fucking education while you're still pretty.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2740/11/92/645461693/n645461693_2352849_6258651.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 600px; height: 449px;" src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2740/11/92/645461693/n645461693_2352849_6258651.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;*cue coyote howl*&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I don't know what to make of this.  I don't know if this is a man or a woman.  All I know is that this is BEASTLY.  Almost looks like Peter Griffin in drag.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2740/11/92/645461693/n645461693_2352845_6336535.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 312px; height: 367px;" src="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2740/11/92/645461693/n645461693_2352845_6336535.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This is what happens when you try to blow up a treasure troll with dynamite.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/l_52acb26d7ecb92fdc413f16ec9cfc869.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 533px;" src="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/l_52acb26d7ecb92fdc413f16ec9cfc869.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Not even adorable.  Not in the least.  Look, you brat: babies aren't dolls.  Buy her a car seat/stroller or give her up for adoption.  And clean your funky room, don't you have any home training?&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/deontae.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 564px;" src="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/deontae.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Chucky???  BWAHAHAHA!  Who gives a shit about Chucky anymore?  His last 2 movies were boring pieces of crap!  And who knew that a homicidal doll would be the inspiration for a romantic, memorable prom night?  (Or whatever event this is)  And it's airbrushed, too!  I always see that crap at low-rent mall kiosks.  Ooh, what's that?  Do I hear a bird?  I do!  Cheap!  Cheap!  Cheap!&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/ghetto10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/ghetto10.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You people don't need any warnings.  My beautiful, delicious Indian meal was ruined, too!  I won't be the only one who suffers!  Anyway...this is just disgusting.  The curves themselves are fine; curvy women are beautiful.  Then she had to go and taint her beauty with this crap!  Now she looks trashy.  I can only imagine this woman in her senior years when she receives a routine physical.  Then again, seniors got the funk, too!&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/hot-ghetto-mess5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 533px;" src="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/hot-ghetto-mess5.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;NGAAAAHHHH!!  My eyes!  No!  This is someone's mama!  Someone's grandmama, maybe!  Hell no!  No, make that: HELL NAWL!!  Super cute lingerie, but wrong body.  Wrong face.  Wrong pose.  Wrong age.  Wrong EVERYTHING!!! And is that a box of Luvs that I see, next to that dirty diaper?  You really think that baby wants to remember his grandma as an old slag with ashy knees, yeast infection, and a nasty house?  Foul.  And do something about your bell-shaped hair, it's unflattering.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/jolly-rancher-in-braids.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/jolly-rancher-in-braids.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Boy...no.  Now, see, this is what happens when you hock your mama's good candy dish.  This is all kinds of ridiculous.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/l_b7db45f7101a4e46bda2e1197d001df1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/l_b7db45f7101a4e46bda2e1197d001df1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Don't even try to flaunt what you don't have, honey.  You are minus an ass.  And what's with the ponytail?  It's not 1990, and you're not Debbie Gibson.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/amess.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 533px;" src="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/amess.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Oh, those poor baby feet!  These, my friends, are Lankles.  Not even cankles...lankles.  Legs connected to (or, in this case, covering up) ankles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/whiteboytat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/whiteboytat.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The hell you say!  You're white...and a boy?!  Damn!  You know, I am truly shocked.  I couldn't tell just by looking at you.  I thought that maybe you were a very light-skinned Ethiopian or a very ugly bitch.  But now this awe-inspiring tattoo just totally spells it out for me!  Thank you, young man, for your wonderful impact on society by pointing out the blindingly obvious.  Enjoy getting beer bottles thrown at you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/mour-lp-042.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/mour-lp-042.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;American laziness at its finest.  That child is too damn old for Pampers.  And just where the hell are the child's clothes?  We need a permit to sell hot dogs on the street, but morons like this can pop out kids willy nilly?  We. Are. Doomed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/new-prom-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 595px;" src="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/new-prom-1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I need my belt.  Because these girls' mamas aren't doing a thing.  No good parent would let their child go out in public like this!  I guess some people enjoy being stank and getting laughed at.  Which is great, because I'm having a damn good time laughing at them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/elleandpoepleilovethemlol867.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/elleandpoepleilovethemlol867.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Girl, get your ridiculous ass off that pole.  Never mind the fact that you have no form or grace; you are a lily, and you're ridiculously young.  You're just asking for it, being in a public park with a lake...just saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/l_9f13f371b77849a8b9cb009584ed34d7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/l_9f13f371b77849a8b9cb009584ed34d7.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/l_2a61d2f7d792415cb44c2d4f976b20f2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/l_2a61d2f7d792415cb44c2d4f976b20f2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;RIP: Your Self Respect.  You really couldn't do any better, ladies?  Why would you want a threesome with him?  He's fucking crusty as hell!  And not only is it bad enough with a baby on the bed, but who's mama is that??  Waiting her turn, is she?  This is just unbelievably nasty.  But rest assured, I will be seeing you all on Maury soon, with popcorn in hand.  Can't wait!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/3245_1116532242486_1502389279_268205_1153392_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 598px;" src="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/3245_1116532242486_1502389279_268205_1153392_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;*cue Tarzan yell*&lt;br /&gt;So wrong.  Look at the rust on the pole from years of rancid pussy juice!  And the ashy, ape-like feet!  Not sexy.  The only thing cute in this photo is the swimsuit...well, it would be cute if it wasn't drenched with ass sweat and stank juice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/img00065.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://www.hotghettomess.com/wp-content/uploads/img00065.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;One word: IKEA.  It's not expensive, friends.  Oh, but wait...you'd have to assemble the table yourself.  Lord forbid you actually have to do some work!  Never mind...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's it for now!  Be on the lookout, I just may in the mood to do Part Three :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-8067149869441044773?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/8067149869441044773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=8067149869441044773' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/8067149869441044773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/8067149869441044773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2009/05/hot-ghetto-mess-deux.html' title='Hot Ghetto Mess! (deux)'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-143160447927350212</id><published>2009-03-27T19:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T21:08:49.656-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Hot Ghetto Mess!</title><content type='html'>I love &lt;a href="http://www.hotghettomess.com/"&gt;Hot Ghetto Mess!&lt;/a&gt;  And in case you forgot, I am a woman of color.  In fact, I am of mixed ancestry.  And no, I do not find that this site condones negative stereotypes about African-Americans.  The pictures clearly speak for themselves.  I say that if you're stupid enough to act like a fool, and worse yet, have your photo taken, then you should realize how much the world finds that humorous.  We are not laughing with you, honey, we are laughing AT you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following are some of my favorite pics from that site, with my own personal commentary.  If you don't like it, then skip your merry derriere to Utopialand, because I don't buckle to PC thugs.  For the rest of you, enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2410/68/4/1318547167/n1318547167_78304_3353687.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 533px;" src="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2410/68/4/1318547167/n1318547167_78304_3353687.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hell no.  Hell.  Ass.  No.  Girlfriend...if you're going to be wearing a short skirt and a thong, then for Chrissake, trim that bush!  No, scratch that.  You need to weed that shit.  You need to pluck, ho, saw, mow, and scorch the earth.  That is just unattractive.  And don't get me started on the rest of the outfit.  I feel nauseous just looking at her!  Ugh...wax it, please, for the good of our stomachs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs015.snc1/2636_72443916693_645461693_2311764_1226423_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 449px; height: 316px;" src="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs015.snc1/2636_72443916693_645461693_2311764_1226423_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Brother man...hats are NOT that expensive!  Look at that smug look; thinking he looks cool.  Uh....*BUZZ* wrong!  Shave that shit off, you look like a broke Kid N Play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs039.snc1/2611_1048030597820_1137346880_30156858_6430153_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 568px;" src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs039.snc1/2611_1048030597820_1137346880_30156858_6430153_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The neighborhood skripper to entertain the boys and girls!  Or is this a field trip to warn the boys and girls on the schoolbus about what will happen to them if they don't graduate?  Now, don't get me wrong, there is no shame in being an exotic dancer.  But there is clearly a time and a place, and this is neither.  Besides, look at her!  She looks like a mule in heat!  No wonder the clubs are so dark!  Honeychild, you're not cute.  Take your flea market panties and GTFOH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs039.snc1/2611_1046265433692_1137346880_30153466_2743977_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs039.snc1/2611_1046265433692_1137346880_30153466_2743977_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I pray to FSM that this is not for a high school prom.  Because if it is...then this is a damn shame.  Poor little bugger.  Neither she nor her not-da-daddy look the least bit amused.  Although I have to admit, the dresses are cute.  But not his suit!  He looks like his chest was wrapped in Bubble Tape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs039.snc1/2611_1046265513694_1137346880_30153468_6529644_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs039.snc1/2611_1046265513694_1137346880_30153468_6529644_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Lawd have mercy on my nonexistant soul!  Okay...this is wrong for so many reasons.  Tacky ass furniture.  Ugly ass horse hair.  Body that is clearly not toned.  Ugly wine glasses.  Cheap wine.  Ashy skin.  And those PJs?  No hoooooo sir!  I am NOT the one!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs039.snc1/2611_1046264113659_1137346880_30153461_2501401_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 340px;" src="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs039.snc1/2611_1046264113659_1137346880_30153461_2501401_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hold up.  Hold UP!  Don't neighborhoods, or even towns, have community pools?  Swimming holes?  Retention ponds?!  Come on, boys!  You can get one of those baby pools from Wal-Mart at a reasonable price.  Or even run through the sprinklers, or have daddy spray the hose at you.  Plus, that water looks nasty.  Either someone didn't clean the boat beforehand or someone took a healthy shit afterward.  Get your asses to the local Y and do some real swimming!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs039.snc1/2611_1046264153660_1137346880_30153462_2013141_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 604px; height: 483px;" src="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs039.snc1/2611_1046264153660_1137346880_30153462_2013141_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Oh wow.  I am in complete awe of you.  I wonder if your mama knows that you took $17 out of her purse to take this useless picture.  Take that money and get yourself some lotion...lotion is gangsta, dontchaknow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs039.snc1/2611_1046264193661_1137346880_30153463_813863_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs039.snc1/2611_1046264193661_1137346880_30153463_813863_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It simply does not get any funnier than this.  Poor woman...her fat's got extra fat!  And that bikini top?  No, ma'am.  Top it off with that expression (you just know that she's being loud), and whatever Fruit Punch/Sprite/Sweet Tea is in that Hardee's cup...and this pic is just a pure classic!  Baby, BBWs can be sexy and classy.  You are neither.  But you're damn funny, though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs039.snc1/2611_1046264073658_1137346880_30153460_7233276_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs039.snc1/2611_1046264073658_1137346880_30153460_7233276_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Young lady...seriously.  If you're going to take a stank ass picture for your man in jail, then you could at least change your stank ass drawers.  Really.  Your expression looks like you're pinching a hot, buttery loaf right now!  Ew...I can almost smell you through the screen.  Wipe and wash your ass, my dear, wipe and wash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2408/127/26/529455179/n529455179_2709340_3836746.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2408/127/26/529455179/n529455179_2709340_3836746.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This has to be a Halloween costume.  It has to be.  He's going as a package of Starburst candy.  Wait...what?  It's not a costume, but a prom outfit?  Oh, my brother.  Prepare to be tormented for all eternity for your poor fashion sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2408/127/26/529455179/n529455179_2709339_4563511.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 396px; height: 480px;" src="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2408/127/26/529455179/n529455179_2709339_4563511.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Can't totally hate on this one.  At least they don't have their goodies hanging out.  But you can tell that this dude is totally whipped.  Either that or he's in for some superb poonaner.  His face kind of looks like Pooh a little bit, doesn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2408/127/26/529455179/n529455179_2709333_254642.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 321px; height: 480px;" src="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2408/127/26/529455179/n529455179_2709333_254642.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Purple Rain!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2410/68/4/1318547167/n1318547167_78301_3379365.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2410/68/4/1318547167/n1318547167_78301_3379365.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Go, Go, Ghetto Rangers!  I don't think that I've ever seen uglier formal outfits...if you can call them that.  They look like they were wrapped in holiday tin foil then sent out.  Just...no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2410/68/4/1318547167/n1318547167_78274_407908.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 350px; height: 500px;" src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2410/68/4/1318547167/n1318547167_78274_407908.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Now the world don't move to the beat of just one drum...what might be right for you...may not be right for some..."  Heh...a pun with a double meaning, damn I'm good.  I admit, the dress on the young lady is cute.  What?  It is!  But the wannabe Gary Coleman could have done better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2410/68/4/1318547167/n1318547167_78275_5401530.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 319px; height: 480px;" src="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2410/68/4/1318547167/n1318547167_78275_5401530.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Beware....beware of the Can of Busted Biscuits!  After its ass has finished eating the panties, it will come after you and eat your children!  Run!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2385/201/20/548208264/n548208264_1376296_2652384.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 526px;" src="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2385/201/20/548208264/n548208264_1376296_2652384.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Girl you know it's true...."  And that's all I have to say about THIS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2455/244/16/12919944/n12919944_39258970_9997.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 520px;" src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2455/244/16/12919944/n12919944_39258970_9997.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Biggie Smalls has risen from the dead!  And he's going in drag under the pseudonym "Orangina"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-h.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v1979/244/16/12919944/n12919944_39214191_9106.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 526px;" src="http://photos-h.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v1979/244/16/12919944/n12919944_39214191_9106.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sweetie...I know that we all have our problems, but please conquer your toilet training before going out on your own.  I know it's hard, possibly even harder than the 9th grade that you couldn't have possibly gotten through, but I know that you can do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2163/68/4/1318547167/n1318547167_51587_7141.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2163/68/4/1318547167/n1318547167_51587_7141.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My darling...did your self-respect go to jail along with this young man?  Nothing less classy than ryde-or-die chicks.  Sorry, boys...you fuck up your life, you're not gonna fuck up mine.  You are on your OWN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2163/68/4/1318547167/n1318547167_51569_6855.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 331px;" src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2163/68/4/1318547167/n1318547167_51569_6855.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hell no.  Somebody made this.  Somebody was proud of this.  Can you imagine?  "Cut me a slice of overstretched pussy, please?"  No...just no.  Smear that frosting, then it will look appetizing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1963/122/114/711561492/n711561492_1639761_7540.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 364px; height: 530px;" src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1963/122/114/711561492/n711561492_1639761_7540.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1963/122/114/711561492/n711561492_1639762_7861.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 319px; height: 530px;" src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v1963/122/114/711561492/n711561492_1639762_7861.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ho Ho....HO.  This is the most ridiculous shit I have ever seen.  Then again, I suppose she could make visits to homes that do not have Xmas trees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-e.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-sf2p/v653/127/26/529455179/n529455179_2344388_8586.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://photos-e.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-sf2p/v653/127/26/529455179/n529455179_2344388_8586.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Dirty.  Dirty, stank, and foul.  Her breath will be smelling like corns and fungus for months.  Have some class, bitch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v797/127/26/529455179/n529455179_2211320_7128.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v797/127/26/529455179/n529455179_2211320_7128.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;AHA!  About time that insipid Chick-Fil-A cow got justice for his crimes against humanity!  Take that, you motherfucker!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v807/174/110/676139133/n676139133_1765389_3351.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 483px; height: 604px;" src="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v807/174/110/676139133/n676139133_1765389_3351.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Don't fear him, children.  He's like the Mr. Burns alien...he brings you love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v400/174/110/676139133/n676139133_1741940_8860.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 574px; height: 357px;" src="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v400/174/110/676139133/n676139133_1741940_8860.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;If this isn't the nastiest.....UGH!  I honestly have nothing.  You all can make your own comments for this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-a.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v390/127/26/529455179/n529455179_2183920_3971.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 445px; height: 359px;" src="http://photos-a.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v390/127/26/529455179/n529455179_2183920_3971.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;See, my friends?  Men love Fanta, too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-e.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v443/39/37/23212000/n23212000_34759884_1143.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 604px; height: 453px;" src="http://photos-e.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v443/39/37/23212000/n23212000_34759884_1143.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Angelpie, if you're going to let thoughtless men take crotch shots, wear a tampon!  Or at least wait until the crimson tide is over!  And are those hospital bands?  Brother, no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-d.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v443/39/37/23212000/n23212000_34759835_5361.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 600px; height: 449px;" src="http://photos-d.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v443/39/37/23212000/n23212000_34759835_5361.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Greasy, greasier, greasiest.  I hope that the one in the chair doesn't fart!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-e.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v443/39/37/23212000/n23212000_34759836_5616.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 604px; height: 381px;" src="http://photos-e.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v443/39/37/23212000/n23212000_34759836_5616.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Poor dear.  I think I see a french fry in there somewhere...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-b.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v443/39/37/23212000/n23212000_34759833_4806.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://photos-b.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v443/39/37/23212000/n23212000_34759833_4806.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Boyfriend...you are not Divine.  Quit trying.  Just because you have moobs doesn't mean that the swimsuit flatters you.  You do look like a lot of fun to be around, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v115/177/15/202202924/n202202924_30255480_9337.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 386px; height: 520px;" src="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v115/177/15/202202924/n202202924_30255480_9337.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yeah...the bald guy is hotter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-e.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-sf2p/v110/137/20/654525470/n654525470_884652_7224.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 455px; height: 604px;" src="http://photos-e.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-sf2p/v110/137/20/654525470/n654525470_884652_7224.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is what happens when you defy mother nature.  Respect your body, ladies, or this could be you!  If you ain't got 'em, stuff the bras.  At least you'll still be hot when you're older.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-e.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-sf2p/v72/165/103/19101811/n19101811_30354780_1701.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 348px; height: 480px;" src="http://photos-e.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-sf2p/v72/165/103/19101811/n19101811_30354780_1701.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Congratulations.  You just branded yourself as an unemployable loser for the rest of your life.  Stupid ho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-d.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-sf2p/v651/213/82/530510297/n530510297_5530523_537.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 402px;" src="http://photos-d.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-sf2p/v651/213/82/530510297/n530510297_5530523_537.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is nothing but a gorilla in tight jeans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's all for now, friends :)  Did you enjoy the laugh?  I sure did!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-143160447927350212?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/143160447927350212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=143160447927350212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/143160447927350212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/143160447927350212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2009/03/hot-ghetto-mess.html' title='A Hot Ghetto Mess!'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-2710783255042042629</id><published>2009-03-11T22:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T23:33:07.248-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Various Gripes</title><content type='html'>Meh.  This post is nothing particularly special.  I'm just going to find various things to write about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Totino's Pizza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.blisstree.com/keepingthecastle/files/2007/11/totinos-frozen-pizza.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 267px;" src="http://www.blisstree.com/keepingthecastle/files/2007/11/totinos-frozen-pizza.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has got to be, without a doubt, the nastiest, most foul "food" ever to come to fruition.  The crust tastes like puffed Play-Doh, and the cheese tastes like vulcanized rubber.  I don't give a shit if they're only 97 cents!  They're that cheap for a reason: because they suck.  A mule penis!  Personally, I prefer to make my own pizza by using pizza dough mix (only about $1-$2), pizza sauce (anywhere from $1-$4), and various toppings.  But of course, I understand that time is of the essence.  I recommend Tombstone or Red Baron if frozen pizza is a must.  Stay away from this....this...hell, I can't even think of a good name, it's so disgusting.  But if you're like a dear friend of mine and you eat one, your ass and your porcelain throne will become the best of friends, because you will have the chunky monkey squirts for hours.  You have been warned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Kool Moe Dee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/413YSX2EXEL._SL500_AA240_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/413YSX2EXEL._SL500_AA240_.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of history's coolest rappers.  That's all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Tim and Eric&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.luminousether.com/mockholly/images/commentary/tande.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 389px; height: 332px;" src="http://www.luminousether.com/mockholly/images/commentary/tande.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I have ever hated two people as much as I hate these clowns.  I admit, I did enjoy their show "Tom Goes to the Mayor" on Adult Swim.  I still do sometimes.  But then they had to abandon a good thing to make the insidious, nonsensical, moronic mess that is "Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Great Job!"  Of course, the term "awesome" is subjective.  I do not feel subjected to agree that this show is awesome.  Just watch it once (if you can make it for the entire show) and see what I mean.  It's just irritating, the jokes make no sense, and it's just bad.  It's suited for either unemployable, 30-year-old potheads or mopheaded 14-year-old Xbox fans.  I gave it a chance.  Many chances, in fact.  And I have not smiled or laughed once.  A few times I have sighed of frustration or sneered at the...jokes?  Are they jokes?  I hate to say it, but this show makes the new episodes of Family Guy seem like genius, which is saying a lot, because the newer Family Guy episodes are a fucking waste of brain cells.  But I have to hand it to Tim and Eric: making millions by doing practically nothing constructive.  They make it look so easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. R. Kelly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2188/2513568083_b96bbbcb97.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 471px; height: 330px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2188/2513568083_b96bbbcb97.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...this guy commits statutory rape, and all of a sudden he is a martyr and a legend in the R&amp;amp;B world.  Yet Roman Polanski and Woody Allen, who used poor judgment, but did not take it as far as R. Kelly, never regained the celebrity status of their past.  Damn shame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Chris Brown and Rihanna&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fQseirj7Y-w/SZBfOiIUxwI/AAAAAAAAATs/CvMwQ6vGOno/s400/chris-brown-rihanna.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 291px; height: 289px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fQseirj7Y-w/SZBfOiIUxwI/AAAAAAAAATs/CvMwQ6vGOno/s400/chris-brown-rihanna.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, STFU about it already!  I don't know exactly what went down, nor should I.  This is a highly personal matter.  All I know is that the publicists for Chris Brown and Rihanna should be fucking ashamed.  Domestic violence is a serious matter, and shouldn't be used for exploitation or to enhance celebrity status.  And as such, I will not be paying any more attention to this matter, nor will I be buying anything that has to do with either of these two.  Just as well; I prefer indie artists, anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Bristol Palin/Levi Johnston&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.usmagazine.com/files/bristol-palin-levi-b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 218px;" src="http://www.usmagazine.com/files/bristol-palin-levi-b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow.  This blessed union-to-be will never be.  Nobody is more shocked than I.  Really.  I mean, if you find your high-school sweetheart and get knocked up by him before the age of 18, then that's a sure stronghold on your relationship and your future.  Not to mention that adoring look that Levi gives his glowing bride-to-be.  Could he be any more in love with her?  I just...I didn't expect it.  I really thought this was a match to be reckoned with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha.  NOT!  Good luck, children, you will definitely need it.  And Bristol, please be so kind as to keep your &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TbiVoYGPHaA"&gt;death-hungry lunatic of a mother&lt;/a&gt; the fuck out of our public eye.  She is a waste and we don't need her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And...yeah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-2710783255042042629?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/2710783255042042629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=2710783255042042629' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/2710783255042042629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/2710783255042042629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2009/03/various-gripes.html' title='Various Gripes'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2188/2513568083_b96bbbcb97_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-1028194182779008229</id><published>2009-03-11T21:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T22:21:46.891-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a beautiful day for bitching...</title><content type='html'>Yeah, yeah, I have no excuse.  What can I say, I've been a busy bee and I do have a life outside of the addictive other world known as the Internet.  A million apologies now, and a trillion apologies for the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that said...let's get to bitching :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;____________________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Okay...so I do a little grocery shopping at the new Super Target near my home.  Of course, it's typical Target: 3:00 in the afternoon, 18 registers, and only 2 of them open.  There are lines going into the candle aisle.  Ridiculous, I say.  Eventually, another register opens, and I rush over to use it, but alas, I am beaten by a behemoth with a cart full of crap (read: Hot Pockets, Wonder Bread, Redbook Magazine, etc...).  Normally, I'd be annoyed, but I was in no rush, and decided to pass the time by reading a nearby tabloid.  I enjoyed the guilty pleasure for all but 5 seconds before Queen Beast begins her mooing:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;QB: "I just want to know...the grocery section is on [the east] end.  Why do you only have registers open here?" ("Here" being the area between the grocery department and the home/garden department)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cashier (looking and acting like she wants to get this elephant the fuck out of her line): *shrug* "I'm sorry, I don't know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;QB: "Well, it's just more convenient to have registers near the groceries.  Some of us don't feel like walking all the way over here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cashier: *continues to scan Moo Cow's groceries*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;QB: *whine*moo*hee haw*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cashier: *scans the crummy groceries at a fantastic speed*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;QB: "Say, is your supervisor around?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**And before you can say "Bitch, try jogging!" a young go-getter who is going to climb that Target career ladder, boy howdy, appears with his eager face, ready to help all his breeders in need.**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor Schmuck: "Yes, ma'am, how can I help you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;QB: "Well....(goes on the same diatribe about how much of a lazy shit she is and how she can't stand to go more than 10 steps without collapsing and gasping for air.  I eat Hot Pockets, don't you know how inactive and unhealthy we are?!  Give us special treatment!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: *smile quickly fading from his face* Riiiight.  I apologize for the inconvenience, ma'am.  I'll let the manager know of your concerns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;QB: "Hmph."  *and with that she waddles away, but not before holding up a line of now 8 people with her bitching*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: *under my breath* It's not like she can't use the walk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cashier: *quietly* I know, right? LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't mean for anyone to hear that, but...oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But come on!  I mean, really...come...on.  No wonder the world thinks less of us.  The entire store is not even close to 1/5 of a mile wide!  I think you can handle walking a little (with the help of a loaded cart, no less) to the middle of the store from one side.  If you would drag your cankles once in a while, then you'd have no reason to bitch so much!  Put down the Pork Pocket, and do some fucking jumping jacks, you sow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;____________________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's an exciting time for animal rights!  Vegetarian and veganism is becoming more and more popular, what with gaining more ground in the mainstream market.  Now more than ever, we can enjoy cruelty-free accessories, clothes, and food.  And speaking of food: &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/In_vitro_meat"&gt;lab-grown meat.&lt;/a&gt;  That's right.  According to the latest issue of &lt;a href="http://www.vegnews.com/web/home.do"&gt;VegNews magazine&lt;/a&gt; (if you don't already subscribe, you should.  It's a wonderful publication), researchers hope that by 2020, lab-grown meat will be available in supermarkets.  The deal is: it is real meat, which is used not by killing an innocent animal, but by using its cells.  The process wouldn't be entirely innocent: animals still would be used in some way, but they would not be slaughtered, and we're hoping that they will be treated humanely.  So, it's win-win.  Omnivores get their meat, and in turn, hundreds to thousands of animals could be spared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, imagine my discontent when I mention this news to several of my meat-eating friends.  I heard the following replies:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, but if real meat is still available, I'm going to choose that."  (Whatever "real" meat means...as if the lab-grown meat would be imaginary)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yuck!  That sounds gross." (As if eating chicken fetuses and drinking bovine mammary juice isn't.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know, SD.  It seems so...artificial."  (Keep in mind, this is coming from someone who thinks nothing of downing Sunny Delight--yes, it is delicious, I admit, but I digress--and eating Totino's pizza, which is, quite possibly, the foulest convenience food in existence.  But I suppose that's for another blog ;) )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I say: "So...even though an alternative, which would be real meat, will be available, you'd still choose to eat the meat of a murdered animal?"  Not one said anything in favor of the lab-grown meat.  Typical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Normally, I don't judge people on how they eat.  At this time, the way a person lives/eats is his or her own damn business.  And I will feel the same way in the future.  But I can't help but feel sorry for them.  I can understand that the whole "lab-grown" deal is a little new and unusual, and may take some time to get used to.  But it's also important to have an open mind and to at least educate yourself before making ignorant, judgmental comments.  And let's not forget the compassion---get some, assholes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_____________________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, enough preachin'...more bitching to come :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-1028194182779008229?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/1028194182779008229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=1028194182779008229' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/1028194182779008229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/1028194182779008229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2009/03/its-beautiful-day-for-bitching.html' title='It&apos;s a beautiful day for bitching...'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-1659210858853450817</id><published>2009-02-16T13:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T14:37:56.549-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How to Get A Job in Florida</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://dixieugadawg.files.wordpress.com/2007/10/granny-says-gators-suck.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 420px; height: 327px;" src="http://dixieugadawg.files.wordpress.com/2007/10/granny-says-gators-suck.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to the Sunshine State!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure that you've heard about what Florida has to offer: the warm weather, the many beaches, the fun theme parks, no income tax, and enough churches to make you take a crap that looks like the Virgin Mary.  You've seen the best, and welcome to the rest!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, if you're going to find employment in this state, there are a few guidelines that you must follow.  If you follow them, you will succeed in finding a job.  And these guidelines are as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. You may not have more than 8 teeth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Your belly must exceed at least one foot past your legs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Your name must go along the lines of: Jethro, Elmer, Alveeta, Tanquanishanay, Del Monte, Hennessy, Alma Jean, Tanqueray, or any other name that will doom you in the North.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. You must have a minimum of 4 children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. You may not, under any circumstance, have any more education than a high school diploma.  A diploma is considered the zenith of educational attainment around here, and that's the way it's going to stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Atheists are bad, evil people.  They pump not blood like yours and mine, but rather a thick, vomitous ooze.  (Thank you, Mr. Garrison!)  If you even associate yourself with one of these...these...scum...then you can absolutely forget about finding work here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. And while we're on that note, this is God's country.  We're all Christians here.  Stick with us, and you'll go far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. We accept no back talk from anyone.  There's none of this "sticking up for yourself" business.  You will bend over for your corporate masters and you will like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. You will treat your shift manager at Chick-Fil-A with the utmost respect.  He worked his everloving butt off to become sixth-in-command at this location, and don't you ever forget it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. You're better off having severe schizophrenia than you are being a homosexual.  Don't even try it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. It is acceptable to have a partner or spouse outside of your race, but don't volunteer this information.  God help you if you do.  You will catch hell from both sides (*note: Yes, I really did.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. You must be a Nascar fan.  No exceptions.  Anyone who sees Nascar as the pointless, boring, ridiculous waste of money and space that it is is not worthy of employment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. If you are a vegetarian, you will be relegated to the nearest hospital and/or All-You-Can-Eat BBQ smokehouse until you get it through your thick skull that you need meat to survive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Don't ever take your coworker to the Olive Garden or Red Lobster unless you plan on proposing marriage.  These are the highest of high-end restaurants and should only be used for special occasions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. The childfree are not welcome.  Period.  Either slide God's little treasure through your blessed snatch or get the fuck out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. You will need to adjust your accent accordingly.  I suggest speaking in a slow, ignorant drawl.  None of this fast-talking, coherent, articulate talk around here.  If a Floridian needs a dictionary or thesaurus, you need to dumb it down a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Don't brag about how the North is much more tolerant than the South.  Everybody knows it's true, including Floridians.  They don't want to be reminded of how much they suck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. You will offer cuts in line to every fat, lazy, harried breeder with 3 dirty, sticky, unruly children.  She did God's duty by having kids, and she is better than you for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Trade your Honda in for an American car!  What's wrong with you, don't you love America?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. You may not watch, trust, or even discuss CNN, MSNBC, or Comedy Central.  Keith Olbermann, Rachel Maddow, and Jon Stewart are all banes on this great nation of ours.  They don't even come close to real Americans.  And that Stephen Colbert...tsk.  He thinks he's funny, but trust me, he's not.  Fox News is the only trusted, reliable, fair, and balanced news outlet out there...period.  You need to take cues from heartfelt Americans like Bill O'Reilly, Ann Coulter, Sean Hannity, and Elizabeth Hasselbeck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Don't you ever, and I mean, EVER, diss George W. Bush.  He saved our nation from terrorism, I tell you Hwhat.  But feel free to bash Obama all you like.  Yes, Florida was blue this past election, and some Floridians are embarrassed that their fellow citizens allowed it to become so.  They just cannot believe that a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hussein&lt;/span&gt; is in the White House. (Translation: they can't believe that a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Black Man&lt;/span&gt; is leading their country...but don't ever say that to them.  You will surely doom your chances of employment by exposing their true feelings.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. You must support the war.  No questions asked.  Don't even dare to question the unreasonable killing of innocent civilians and hard-working, patriotic soldiers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. You must be familiar with at least 10 country musicians and at least 5 songs from each artist.  If you don't know who Sugarland is, then you have no business being in Florida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. You will treat bikers like legendary kings or pay the price.  Harley enthusiasts are the lifeblood of this place.  Remember that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. You will only bathe every 4 days, comb your hair every week, and brush your teeth only once a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. As a Floridian employee, you will treat each customer with disdain, disinterest, and you will be just plain rude.  You will make the customer care about your little problems, like your baby daddy sleeping with your sister.  Remember: we only give a damn about the customer if they have money, and sometimes not even then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And...I think that about covers it!  Once again, welcome to Florida, and good luck on the job search!  Before you know it, you will be settled into a cushy $7.00/hr job as a call center customer service representative, the job you've wanted all your life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.funnyforumpics.com/forums/You-Are/4/You-Are-You_Can_Do_It.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 504px; height: 504px;" src="http://www.funnyforumpics.com/forums/You-Are/4/You-Are-You_Can_Do_It.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-1659210858853450817?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/1659210858853450817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=1659210858853450817' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/1659210858853450817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/1659210858853450817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2009/02/how-to-get-job-in-florida.html' title='How to Get A Job in Florida'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-5737065848815840</id><published>2009-01-28T18:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T18:54:29.506-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You people worship me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Bask in my greatness, as depicted by one of my favorite fictional characters:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/XMjYY3tbX1k&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XMjYY3tbX1k&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-5737065848815840?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/5737065848815840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=5737065848815840' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/5737065848815840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/5737065848815840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2009/01/you-people-worship-me.html' title='You people worship me.'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-1716754411212125848</id><published>2009-01-06T19:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T19:32:16.536-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ScrewTube</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://jinzosucks.com/images/youtube-sucks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://jinzosucks.com/images/youtube-sucks.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;YouTube, sadly, has become the Adult Swim of the Internet: it used to be cutting edge and fun.  Now it's just plain retarded.  Granted, there are a few videos there that are informative (such as how-to videos in terms of crafting, cooking, etc.), and maybe a few videos that are entertaining, but most of it is just a waste of perfectly good time and space.  Here's an idea of the overview of YouTube:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.pcmech.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/05/image1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 308px; height: 270px;" src="http://www.pcmech.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/05/image1.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;But the main problem with YouTube is their unfair targeting of certain videos.  My friend (for privacy's sake, let's call her Shelly) creates fanvids in her spare time, and she used to post them on YouTube to share with other fans.  That is, until YouTube kept deleting her videos and then her account altogether.  Apparently, her fanvids were a violation of some copyright.  So bits and pieces of material are a cause for a possible lawsuit, but other videos of even more copyrighted material is A-OK.  She doesn't understand why she is targeted and not others who have more offensive and more illegal videos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to the law, fan creations should not violate copyright laws.  They should, like parodies, be under "fair use" laws.  &lt;a href="http://www.law.duke.edu/shell/cite.pl?70+Law+&amp;amp;+Contemp.+Probs.+135+%28spring+2007"&gt;Here is the article that proves it.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.law.duke.edu/shell/cite.pl?70+Law+&amp;amp;+Contemp.+Probs.+135+%28spring+2007"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shelly, like any rational person, decided to create her own fanvid page as a big, fat "Fuck you" to YouTube.  &lt;a href="http://tpal2150.110mb.com/"&gt;Check it out&lt;/a&gt;, it's pretty cool. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you have it.  YouTube, either allow copyrighted material or don't.  It's not fair to single out whoever may have the littlest bit of a chance of a lawsuit falling on your ass.  Get with it.  And quit with the stupid RickRoll and Hampster videos...nobody gives a shit anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-1716754411212125848?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/1716754411212125848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=1716754411212125848' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/1716754411212125848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/1716754411212125848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2009/01/screwtube.html' title='ScrewTube'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-6470361329604435584</id><published>2009-01-06T12:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T14:04:53.421-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Number Two...in more ways than one.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Oops!  In my haste to make up for my lack of updating, I forgot to wish everyone a Happy New Year!  Sorry!  Well....Slappy Poo Beer.  Yeah, that works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway...I have been doing some leisurely thinking (what, you didn't notice that gust of wind?) and my former manager crossed my mind.  You remember my nemesis PITA, don't you?  If not he graces his presence &lt;a href="http://thesocialdeviant8361.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-work-for-pita.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://thesocialdeviant8361.blogspot.com/2008/04/good-christian-company.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/09/you-fucked-with-wrong-woman.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My deal with PITA is this...he is second in command, and he acts like he is the Pope, the King, and the Sheriff.  Some shining examples include:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*"Do you think I pay you to _____?"  Hmm...that's a thinker.  I think I'm going to go with......no.  Yeah.  My answer is no, because you didn't pay me, and you've never paid me.  Until your signature is on my checks, you can get fucked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*"This is my store."  "It's my store."  No, and no.  Your name is not on the business license, nor is it on the deed.  The operator's name isn't even on the deed, he rents the place from the corporation, who owns the store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*"I'm the boss!"  Yes, PITA said this frequently and vocally.  To me, it sounds like a 3-year-old who doesn't want to share his toys.  "I'm the boss!  It's miiiiiiiiiiiiine!"  Yes, PITA is an option for a boss, but I could always go over his head. Way over his head.  He is not "the boss."  If he were, he wouldn't be constantly chewed out by &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;his&lt;/span&gt; boss, the operator!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*He wears company-logo attire, even while off the clock.  NERD!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*If I ever dared to say that another restaurant's food is better than the food at the restaurant at which he works, I would be asking for the Lecture from Hell.  "Their food is garbage, SD."  "How can you not like chicken, SD?"  "Actually, I think our shakes are better, SD."  He would rather eat his restaurant's food than his own mother's cooking.  If this isn't a company man, I don't know what is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's pretty pitiful to act high and mighty when you're only second-in-command of a fucking restaurant.  He acts like an executive of a successful corporation, when in reality, these executives are laughing at/pitying him.  Oh, and I will take a moment to hit below the belt: he just turned 24, and he has a glaring bald spot.  Not only that, he has ginger hair, freckles, a noticeable lisp, and a pumpkin-shaped head.  Not a good combo for someone who is balding.  I wish I had taken the opportunity to make fun of him for it to his face, but I had to be a little tactful.  But now, well, it's just fucking hilarious!  Hey, PITA!  You drive around in your daddy's Infiniti and spend money you don't have; why not buy some Rogaine and get a bang out of life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-6470361329604435584?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/6470361329604435584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=6470361329604435584' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/6470361329604435584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/6470361329604435584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2009/01/number-twoin-more-ways-than-one.html' title='Number Two...in more ways than one.'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-2630139443468397550</id><published>2009-01-06T11:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T12:55:14.165-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hatemail!  Hatemail!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;I was tickled pink to discover a hateful comment from an apparent Radio Shack fan.  The wuss declined to make his/her page public, but I will be kind enough to display the name and what was said.  It can also be found at &lt;a href="http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/06/radio-shack-can-eat-big-fat-one.html"&gt;this blog.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Asynaka says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Wow, I guess if I worked in a Radio Shack and had to deal with a-holes like you and likely a screaming boss I would shoot myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"  &gt;You loss [sic] the high ground when you are an ass to the guy and girl making 7 bucks an hour with some asshole telling them they will lose their job if they don't push these things, if you hate it so much why go into Radio Shack&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;This comment has dumbassery written all over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number one, Asynaka, I did not put a gun to your head and force you to take a job that involves dealing with assholes like me (*grin*) and a screaming boss.  You made that decision for yourself.  Suck it up, buttercup.  Of course, if you did shoot yourself, I sure as hell wouldn't notice.  You can easily be replaced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, I lost the high ground.  Right.  I'm the one making racist comments in order to make a quick buck.  I'm the one who is rude to those who don't have a fucking camera/radio/satellite dish in their overpriced phone.  Let me tell you something, Assy Caca...I am never rude to a service person unless they are rude to me first.  I've worked crap jobs before, and I know how it feels to deal with rude customers and idiot bosses.  So I do my best to treat every serviceperson with respect, and I expect that they do the same with everyone that they come in contact with.  If some snotshit tells someone making 7 bucks an hour that they will lose their job if they don't push some DVD player, that's not my problem.  I don't make the rules, and again, I didn't tell them to take the job.  They chose this job, and I won't allow some idiot to take their poor choices out on me.  Perhaps they could have an opportunity to keep their jobs by making a sale without using poor people skills.  But they didn't.  So they lost a customer and possibly their jobs.  Their choices, not mine.  Oh, well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third, if you had bothered to read the blog, you would know that there are other places that I patronize other than Radio Shack.  I haven't been to Radio Shack in over a year.  I actively avoid going near a Radio Shack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sounds to me, Asynaka, that you cannot handle being an adult.  Sure, we all have bosses that we hate.  I know I did!  But it sounds to me that you cannot take responsibility for your actions.  So therefore, your opinion means this to me:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i238.photobucket.com/albums/ff268/NeonKnight51/shit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://i238.photobucket.com/albums/ff268/NeonKnight51/shit.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But thank you for the laugh!  My friends and I enjoyed it thoroughly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-2630139443468397550?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/2630139443468397550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=2630139443468397550' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/2630139443468397550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/2630139443468397550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2009/01/hatemail-hatemail.html' title='Hatemail!  Hatemail!'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-8759008908470104482</id><published>2009-01-06T11:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T11:51:39.116-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck the Bikers!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.bikerlawblog.com/media/blogs/biker_laws/nomotorcycles.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 385px; height: 363px;" src="http://www.bikerlawblog.com/media/blogs/biker_laws/nomotorcycles.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;That's right.  I said fuck 'em!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my state, motorcycles, motorcyclists, and anything that has to do with motorcycles is a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;BFD&lt;/span&gt; (a big fucking deal).  All I can say is this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://flywithbats.files.wordpress.com/2008/08/who-cares.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 486px; height: 353px;" src="http://flywithbats.files.wordpress.com/2008/08/who-cares.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And why should I give a shit?  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Oooooh&lt;/span&gt;....it's a motorized bicycle!  I've never seen any kind of motorized transportation device before!  And it's shiny, too!  I'm sorry, but I just don't see the appeal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I can see how uninteresting and overrated motorcycles are...until an unfortunate brain &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;omelette&lt;/span&gt; occurs on the pavement.  Unfortunately, motorcycle accidents are common in this country, especially in my state.  I don't wish harm on anyone, and I don't want anyone to get hurt or to lose a loved one, but these lunkheads have brought it on themselves.  And no, I don't hate to say it.  Here is what I have witnessed:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Reckless bikers weaving illegally and dangerously between lanes&lt;br /&gt;* Idiot bikers riding at least 90 mph&lt;br /&gt;* Dumbass bikers riding without a helmet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last one baffles me.  In many states, riding with a helmet is required.  Not here.  Apparently if you have an insurance policy of at least $10,000, you can let the gentle breeze caress your balding scalp.  Now, either these people have lived rich and full lives and don't mind dying doing what they love, or they're just plain fucking stupid.  I'm betting on the latter.  To those who are still unconvinced:  your skull is to the pavement as an egg is to concrete.  You.  Will.  Lose.  What.  Little.  Brain.  Matter.  You.  Have.  Left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems that everywhere I go, I see bumper stickers saying things like, "Look Twice, Save a Life.  Motorcycles are Everywhere."  Hmph.  Of course, I always drive defensively.  But if these special fucking motorcyclists want recognition and special treatment, then they need to treat the other drivers and pedestrians on the road with respect, and to be more careful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I still don't care about your bike.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-8759008908470104482?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/8759008908470104482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=8759008908470104482' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/8759008908470104482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/8759008908470104482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2009/01/fuck-bikers.html' title='Fuck the Bikers!'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-6055945102272086574</id><published>2008-12-09T19:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T19:16:14.298-08:00</updated><title type='text'>a little English lesson...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dear morons of the Internet:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a wonderful holiday gift for you this year: knowledge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your =/= You're&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are =/= Our&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their =/= They're&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Where you at?" =/= "Where are you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is a picture of Danny and I." =/= "This is a picture of Danny and me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Me and Joe are going." =/= "Joe and I are going."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"LyKe ToTaLlY oMg!!!!??!!!!!%&amp;amp;#*(@!!!!!!!" =/= "Wow!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If someone did (such and such), then they deserve it!" =/= "If someone did (such and such), then he/she deserves it!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Like, I don't know, like, that movie was, like, totally boring, like." =/= "I don't know, that movie was totally boring."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You got some money?" =/= "Do you have any money?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why you ain't got no socks on?" =/= "Why do you not have on your socks?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Skrimp" =/= Shrimp&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Let me get two Whoppers with the Cheeses." =/= "May I please have two Whoppers with Cheese?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What you mean you ain't got any?" =/= "What do you mean, you don't have any?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sister-in-laws =/= Sisters-in-law&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I am not the perfect grammar queen (I am guilty of using the ever-hated "like"), but at least I don't sound like a retarded ape. And some of you people are over the age of 26. Come on, people, use common sense! If it doesn't sound quite right, then it probably isn't!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There, you got a free education. You're welcome.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-6055945102272086574?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/6055945102272086574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=6055945102272086574' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/6055945102272086574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/6055945102272086574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/12/little-english-lesson.html' title='a little English lesson...'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-142189239371465885</id><published>2008-11-04T20:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T21:14:42.419-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet, sweet victory!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://tubestroker.files.wordpress.com/2007/11/barack_obama.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://tubestroker.files.wordpress.com/2007/11/barack_obama.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; America, for the first time in 8 years, you have done something right. Now I can be proud to say that I have faith in my nation again. I can say that I am proud to be an American. I have never felt more pride than to cast my ballot for this wonderful man. I have never been more nervous seeing the election results. And I have never been so excited to see that we finally have not only a caring, competent, intelligent president, but an African-American president. We have made history, my friends, and you should be proud. Congratulations, President Obama, and congratulations, America!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As an extra note to show how much I adore this man, I have to post this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 500px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 345px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://sneakerboxx.files.wordpress.com/2008/06/barack-obama-is-superman.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Many of you can tell that this post is full of emotion. So that means that my usual snarkiness is off-limits for this post, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 204px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 281px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.sidneychurlbert.com/images/WrongAnswer.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For what it's worth, John McCain did deliver a very gracious concession speech, which even I didn't expect, given his behavior during the debates.  His fans, however, were incredibly sore losers. *giggle*  As soon as "Obama" came out of McCain's mouth, boos ensued.  Loud, long, insistent boos.  Even McCain had to say, "Now, now," and continued with class.  Did I mention that a great majority of the crowd and McCain HQ was white?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And for those of you who enjoy the taste of defeat, do check out the comments for &lt;a href="http://news.aol.com/elections/article/presidential-race/233562?icid=100214839x1212926515x1200762740"&gt;this story &lt;/a&gt;and &lt;a href="http://elections.foxnews.com/2008/11/04/wrap-polls-start-close-frenied-day-voting/comments/"&gt;this story.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For those of you who posted comments like those, and who bashed Obama this whole time (and continue to do so), I only have this to say:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/rX7wtNOkuHo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rX7wtNOkuHo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-142189239371465885?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/142189239371465885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=142189239371465885' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/142189239371465885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/142189239371465885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/11/sweet-sweet-victory.html' title='Sweet, sweet victory!'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-2251379832858444289</id><published>2008-10-07T11:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T11:44:15.169-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This woman is my new grandma!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;What? Don't give me that look. I was born with 2 grandmas, 2 great-grandmas, and a great-great-grandma. I can have as many grandmas as I want! Ptooie! And I want this one!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is, without a doubt, the coolest elderly woman in the world. No, no...the Universe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://margaretandhelen.wordpress.com/2008/10/03/bitch-there-i-said-it/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Here's a linky.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; But if you're lazy, like me, here's what she wrote:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who can turn the world on with her smile?&lt;br /&gt;Who can take a nothing day and suddenly make it all seem worthwhile?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well it’s NOT you girl…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look. I am going to say what everyone at CNN, CBS, ABC and NBC is thinking but is afraid to say. Governor Palin is a stupid, conniving bitch. And it’s not because she is a strong woman - I like strong women… worship them… It’s actually the opposite. She is a weak, pathetic woman who thinks big hair, winking, baby talk and self deprecation is somehow becoming of a woman who wants to lead the free world. My god, where is Margaret Thatcher when you need her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what really makes me mad is the hypocrisy. She claims to be a Washington outsider and yet is the worst kind of politician. She will say anything and avoid answering any question instead choosing to spout whatever line or soundbite some adviser put into her mouth a few hours earlier. And exactly when did sounding like a hick make someone “more like us”. Last time I checked we were a country striving to educate our children to be intelligent and honest. I think I would die if my daughter came home from school and said something like “I gotta tell ya. Change is a comin’.” At the very least I would remove the Beverly Hillbillies from her approved TV viewing list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there is Alaska. Have any of you been to Alaska recently? Although the largest State geographically, it has less than a million people - about 700,000. (The city I live in now is bigger. )Fewer population issues exist for lawmakers to address. And because they make so much money from the oil companies, the Alaskan government actually gives it citizens an annual dividend check (this year $3,200). Exactly what Governor wouldn’t be popular under those circumstances? No wonder they can afford to elect a governor who ony has an undergraduate degree in journalism and a few beauty pageant awards. By the way, when you got that journalism degree did they teach you that some journalists actually ask hard questions like what newpapers do you read?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fact: Sarah Palin is stupid. Maybe not stupid by Alabama standards but stupid enough that she managed to get herself elected Governor while never bothering to educate herself on little things like the Constitution, foriegn affairs or appropriate debating practices. She is stupid enough to have accepted a VP nomination for which she is completely unqualified and stupid enough not to admit it - even though the future of our great nation could be irreversibly damaged by the decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When exactly do we all get to call “bullshit”?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She loves to talk about being a mother but the last time I checked, having your newborn on national TV at 11PM instead of in bed wasn’t considered “good muthering“. Neither was making your child’s unexpected teen pregnancy the talk of the nation because you desperately wanted to be a politician in Washington DC - or isn’t that exactly what you said you didn’t want. From where I sit, it appears you would sell your soul for the position. Kind of the way that Elizabeth girl on The View sold her soul for fame. Please god get her off the airwaves - she became famous because she ate a rat… but I digress…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and my favorite - my husband Todd (the first dude) and I sit around the kitchen table wondering about the cost of college like many of you… oh really. Your oldest son went from high school into the military. Your next oldest is pregnant with plans to be married to some hockey jock at age 17. Seems to me you’ve got lots of time before you have to worry about college tuition especially being college doesn’t seem to be a priority in your family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You refuse to give live interviews and then whine when your taped interviews get edited. Then you have a chance to be live in front of the nation during a debate and you respond by not answering the questions (proudly not answering the questions I might add) but rather by reading the cue cards given to you by a group of white old men who sold their souls to the political system when you were in…. I don’t know - 2nd grade maybe. Your insulting to a United States Senator who is so respected that his home state has elected him to office 6 times. And while I am on the subject of the debate - shame on Gwen Ifell for not making her answer the questions. Damn I miss Tim Russert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah Palin is an ignorant, ranting, whining bitch. There I said it. But lots more are thinking it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please take your ridiculous hair, your over lipstick-smacking mouth, your Lenscrafter look smarter glasses and your poorly fitted designer jackets back to Alaska. And when you get there, shove a piece of the pipeline up your considerable ass. I’ll be damned if we’ll put our children’s future in your hands. And the same thing goes for McCain - the ass wipe who gave her this national platform effectively pushing the woman’s movement back into the dark ages - knowing McCain that might have been his plan all along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://current.com/items/89373484_82_year_old_calls_sarah_palin_out"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Another Linky&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-2251379832858444289?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/2251379832858444289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=2251379832858444289' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/2251379832858444289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/2251379832858444289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/10/this-woman-is-my-new-grandma.html' title='This woman is my new grandma!'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-7336875480385988599</id><published>2008-09-27T20:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T20:18:23.811-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sarah Silverman wins at life :)</title><content type='html'>Enough said.  Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AgHHX9R4Qtk&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AgHHX9R4Qtk&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-7336875480385988599?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/7336875480385988599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=7336875480385988599' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/7336875480385988599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/7336875480385988599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/09/sarah-silverman-wins-at-life.html' title='Sarah Silverman wins at life :)'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-7554206423249925873</id><published>2008-09-26T21:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T21:25:35.216-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Follow the Pied Piper of Bullshitland :)</title><content type='html'>This is a temporary post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If any of my fellow bloggers are interested in following me, please do :)  I added the "followers" widget, so who knows, you may be famous ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-7554206423249925873?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/7554206423249925873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=7554206423249925873' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/7554206423249925873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/7554206423249925873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/09/follow-pied-piper-of-bullshitland.html' title='Follow the Pied Piper of Bullshitland :)'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-1600047039846143150</id><published>2008-09-25T19:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T20:07:38.014-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who needs a farm when you've got Golden Corral?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i112.photobucket.com/albums/n177/ashleyanne0182/GoldenCorral.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i112.photobucket.com/albums/n177/ashleyanne0182/GoldenCorral.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It was one of those days, my friends.  I was tired.  I was pissy.  I had a veritable buttload of things to do that I hadn't even touched.  And worst of all...I was hungry.  If anyone knows me, they should know that I like food (well, good food, anyway).  But seeing as I was too lazy and irritable to drive to a decent city, I'd have to find some low-grade cattle feed in my boring ass town.  So after a bit of thinking, I bite the bullet and say to myself, "Fuck it, I'll just fill up on veggies at Golden Corral."  And as I'm driving there, I suddenly remembered the type of folk who dine at such lovely establishments.  And a wide grin creeps across my face.  I'm in for some cheap laughs, and nobody loves a cheap laugh more than I!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I'm about to turn the corner into the parking lot, I wonder if people are busy shopping at nearby Belk department store, as it looks very full.  When I drive a little closer, however, I can see that the cars are for Golden Corral!  No shit!  You'd think I was at a Wal-Mart!  And most of these vehicles are of the pick-up truck/minivan/SUV variety.  I park my car (far away, of course), and chuckle my way past the McCain/Palin-stickered atrocities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I go up to the counter to pay for my meal.  The server looked like she suffered through 8 generations of inbreeding.  No shit.  I thought she was going to start drooling when she looked at me with her dead eyes and asked in a slow, Southern drawl, "Yew want lunch or dinner?"  Me: "I'll have lunch, please."  "Yew wanna drank?"  "Umm...Dr. Pepper."  And then she told me my total, I gave her the money, and she gave me my receipt, her expression not changing whatsoever.  It was not unlike this fellow:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IDbKlaWgR3Q&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IDbKlaWgR3Q&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...after that pleasant exchange of words, I grab my plate and get my food.  I swear, I must have been the only person in the whole place that didn't waddle.  After I get my salad, I notice a large, angry woman looking derisively at the chicken, then asking the cook which one is a breast, when it's clear that there are only thighs and legs.  At that point, she marches to a manager and bellows, "Where are the chicken breasts?  You people used to make chicken breasts for me!"  Yeah, lady.  This huge place is going to interrupt smooth flow of business just for your fat ass.  I almost wanted to say, "If you want chicken breast, take your fat, entitled ass home and cook it yourself!"  But no...I wanted to thoroughly enjoy this experience.  I sure do love seeing large, middle-aged women taking a break from their quilting and scrapbooking to eat bland, substandard food from a can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, when I go up to get some more low-quality food, it takes me a little longer than usual, because I have to wait for the tubbs to get the fuck out of the way.  Seriously.  It's as if you're not allowed to talk about how you came to pick the meatloaf and lima beans unless you're standing in the way.  FUCKING MOVE!!!  The seniors at the table across from me can talk about their children on probation at their table, why can't you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After topping my meal off with ice cream that is worse than Breyer's (yes, it's possible), I go to leave and the line is literally out the door of people who are about to have dinner!  Breeders and seniors and bubbas, oh my!  Thank hell I came early, or I'd really be pissed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, Golden Corral is a moo cow paradise, and the food will make your stomach sink into the pits of oblivion, but it was worth it.  Hey, whenever you're feeling bad about yourself, have lunch here!  You will feel like a new person!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-1600047039846143150?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/1600047039846143150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=1600047039846143150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/1600047039846143150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/1600047039846143150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/09/who-needs-farm-when-youve-got-golden.html' title='Who needs a farm when you&apos;ve got Golden Corral?'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-6800308496294581690</id><published>2008-09-23T20:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T21:04:00.824-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yeah, I took your stork space.  So what?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/25/52210720_58a0bf6ba2.jpg?v=1129232760"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/25/52210720_58a0bf6ba2.jpg?v=1129232760" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Why?  Why does someone with a sperm infection deserve to have a parking space any more than the elderly or the handicapped?  Pregnancy is NOT a handicap (at least not one that deserves a parking space)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I usually like to park in what my friend refers to as "Buttfuck, Egypt."  And why not?  I'll find a space quickly, I'll know where my car is (I am one of those people who oftens forgets where she parks), and I'll get some much-needed exercise!  I really don't understand why people waste time, gas, and frustrations trying to find the closest space possible, especially since there are plenty of spaces toward the back.  Often these fools are minivan or SUV drivers.  Lazy asses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And while I like to park far away, if I see a stork parking space, I will gladly go out of my way to park there.  They're not enforced by the city, county, or state, and if I park there, the worst that will happen is my privilege of shopping at XYZ mart being revoked (and we just can't have that, boyhowdydoody!).  Soooo...if I see it, I will park there.  I don't understand why other people without kids in tow don't do the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, today, I felt like getting some junk food, so I decided to go to a fast-food restaurant for some fries, and what do I see?  A stork space!  The sharp right I made nearly tipped my means of transportation over, but it was worth it :)  And what's more, this place happened to be packed with breeders and their quivering crotchboogers!  As a couple of little jerks ran back and forth down the aisles screaming like little orangutans, I wondered if I would get any dirty looks or confrontations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After my less-than-stellar meal, I headed toward my car, and I couldn't help but notice who parked right next to me...the disheveled moo with the monkey-like cuntpancakes, looking quite perturbed.  She mutters, "I don't know who parked in this space..." before noticing my unlocking the door.  "Excuse me!" she says to me quite curtly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me (with a shit-eating grin, clearly about to enjoy the excitement): "Yes, ma'am, how can I be of assistance?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;moo cow: "Do you realize you're parked in the stork parking?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me (looking at the sign for a while, then looking at her): "Heh.  I sure did.  So what?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;moo cow (who at this point cannot believe I didn't bow down to her Royal Vagina which has squished out slimy germcakes): "So what?!  So you can't park there!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "I don't see your name on the sign, either, sweetheart."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;moo cow (marching toward the sign): "Don't get smart with me.  It says right there, clear as day, 'Reserved for the expecting or those with toddlers.'  Do &lt;strong&gt;you &lt;/strong&gt;have any toddlers?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "No, but I am expecting."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;moo cow: "But you're not far along enough to even park here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me (reading the sign): "'Reserved for the &lt;strong&gt;expecting.&lt;/strong&gt;'  I'm expecting.  Therefore, I parked here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;moo cow (looking and feeling foolish): "Oh.  So...when are you due?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me (breaking into laughter): "Nah, I'm just yankin' your chain, honey.  I had an abortion 2 weeks ago.  Cleared &lt;strong&gt;that&lt;/strong&gt; problem right up!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;moo cow (red fury emerging in her face): "How dare you?  How fucking dare you?!  Who the fuck do you think you are?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me (thrilled by this woman's idiocy): "The childfree woman who took your coveted space."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;moo cow (derisively): "Oh, you're one of &lt;em&gt;those&lt;/em&gt; people.  You have absolutely no right to park here, and you know it!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me (still smiling): "Write me a tot-ticket.  Send me to breeder court.  Make me pay a kinderfine.  Oh, wait, my taxes already take care of your kids.  So I think I'll be using this space more often."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;moo cow (very, very pissed): "That's it.  That is fucking IT!  I'm taking your license plate number, and I'm reporting it to the police!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me (laughing): "Please do.  And while you're at it, tell them what a shining example you've been to me in front of your children.  The police work very hard, so they could use the laugh.  So what do &lt;strong&gt;you&lt;/strong&gt; do for a living?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;moo cow (realizing that she's losing): "You know what?  Fuck you!"  (At that point, she harshly gathers her kids and nearly shoves them in her minivan)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "I will, with a condom!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with that, I make very deliberate moves in my car, and all the while, she angrily slams her driver door, starts the ignition, and leaves the parking lot like a bat out of hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, you breeders.  You think you're so entitled.  And why not?  You've got it all: the tax breaks, the programs for children, you can cut in line at Wal-Mart and not have anyone tell you off, and many other breeder perks.  And really...this bitch was one, ONE parking space away from me.  Was it really that much of a hardship to park sooooooo far away?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My fellow CFers, don't be afraid.  Use those stupid stork spaces, they don't need nor deserve them!  And if you're with your SO or spouse, take his/her hand and skip merrily into the venue while breeders give you the evil eye.  Trust me, it's super fun!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-6800308496294581690?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/6800308496294581690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=6800308496294581690' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/6800308496294581690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/6800308496294581690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/09/yeah-i-took-your-stork-space-so-what.html' title='Yeah, I took your stork space.  So what?'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-1651160500299251557</id><published>2008-09-23T10:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T10:40:48.131-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Childfree news!!  Childfree news!!</title><content type='html'>Is it news that &lt;strong&gt;I&lt;/strong&gt; am childfree?  Nah....I've been pretty vocal in my distaste for the bitter, disgusting truth that is mawmeehud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, it has been pretty tricky to find reliable, positive news about the childfree...until now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say hello to &lt;a href="http://childfree.alltop.com/"&gt;All The Childfree News!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To any childfree bloggers out there, you are likely responsible for this leg of alltop being born (pun intended), so pat yourselves on your well-deserved backs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And extra kudos goes to my good friend, &lt;a href="http://s2dolife.blogspot.com/"&gt;S2 do life&lt;/a&gt;, for making the website possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So read, enjoy, and don't forget to drop by and &lt;a href="http://blog.alltop.com/2008/09/childfree-news.html"&gt;give your thanks!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-1651160500299251557?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/1651160500299251557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=1651160500299251557' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/1651160500299251557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/1651160500299251557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/09/childfree-news-childfree-news.html' title='Childfree news!!  Childfree news!!'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-7958959204523344094</id><published>2008-09-18T19:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T19:41:25.875-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You fucked with the WRONG woman!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i286.photobucket.com/albums/ll101/BaByGirL_StePhaNiE/ththththgimmeshitigiveushitlol.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i286.photobucket.com/albums/ll101/BaByGirL_StePhaNiE/ththththgimmeshitigiveushitlol.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For those of you that don't know, I finally left my bullshit job.  I just could not take it anymore.  The other employees are stuck-up Christians who think they're better than anyone who doesn't go to church, and the managers think they're freaking CEOs!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On my last day, I just couldn't take it anymore.  It got really busy, some idiot left a piece of equipment in the middle of the floor, so I tripped and hurt myself, I had to take care of all the customers in the dining room alone &lt;em&gt;while hurt,&lt;/em&gt; and nobody bothered to help me.  Toward the end of my shift, PITA (you remember PITA, right?  He's mentioned &lt;a href="http://thesocialdeviant8361.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-work-for-pita.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://thesocialdeviant8361.blogspot.com/2008/04/good-christian-company.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.) takes me to the back of the office to complain about the lack of cleanliness in the dining room.  I say, "Well, some idiot left a piece of equipment in the middle of the floor CARELESSLY, and I got hurt, and I had to do what I could alone.  I didn't see any of you offer to help me."  At that point, PITA stammers for a bit and says, "Um...well....we assumed that you could do it."  Bullshit.  At that point, PITA threatens to suspend me for a week, so I say, "You know what?  You can eat your suspension," and I walk out.  I only return the following week to pick up my check.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've hated them ever since.  But today I finally got the opportunity to exact some karma :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was in a department store, minding my own business, when I hear a familiar voice shriek: "Hi, SD!"  I turn around, and to my utter disgust, I see PITA standing in front of me with a smile, as if nothing ever happened.  Here is how the rest of the conversation progressed &lt;em&gt;(my thoughts are in italics):&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;me: (giving a disinterested look) What do you want?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PITA: Oh, nothing, I'm just in here to pick up some things &lt;em&gt;(as if I give a shit)&lt;/em&gt;, and I just thought I'd come by and say hi.&lt;br /&gt;me: And that you did.  Congratulations.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PITA: Well, things are going well at Restaurant.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;me: Okay.....and?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PITA: Well, I just thought you wanted to know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;me: Why would I want to know?  I don't give a shit about any of you people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PITA: (coming closer to me, with the Look of Doom) What?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;me: (gently pushing him away) I no longer work for you, so I'm going to say it: You are NOT going to get in MY face when you speak to me, you got it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PITA: What is your problem?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;me: I'm not interested in you or any of those Restaurant freaks.  You're selfish and arrogant, for which you have a LOT of nerve, because you're just a manager.  I mean...*short chuckle*...it's not like you're somebody!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that point, PITA starts to get really, really pissed.  He tries very hard not to cry as he continues to give me a dirty look, before finally storming off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;me: (extremely satisfied to get the final word) That's right!  Go back to your carcasses at Restaurant, I'm sure they miss you, being your only friends!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I floated on Cloud Seventeen checking out my merchandise and going home.  I finally got a chance to tell that sexless freak how I felt!  And I mean, really, who does he think he is?  You'd need an IQ of a fresh turd to manage a restaurant, and an even lower IQ to want a manage a restaurant for the rest of your life!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope he cries tonight on his corporate logo'ed pillow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I, meanwhile, feel great!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-7958959204523344094?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/7958959204523344094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=7958959204523344094' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/7958959204523344094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/7958959204523344094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/09/you-fucked-with-wrong-woman.html' title='You fucked with the WRONG woman!'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-980906593417665737</id><published>2008-09-16T18:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T22:04:24.981-07:00</updated><title type='text'>For the love of buttfloss, GET LOST!</title><content type='html'>Cripes on a crotchulent crumb cracker! It's been a while since I've updated, huh? Much apologies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, let's see, what can I bitch about now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I'll make a little wish list...people who should disappear (at least temporarily).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I swear, I can't turn on my TV or my computer without hearing about all this celebricrap. Why? The only people who are interested in this shit are sorority sluts and breeders, and neither of these societal drains matter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So now, in the futile hopes that the mainstream media will listen to me (ha!), here is my list of people who should disappear (at least until we hear that one of their kids is gay and/or on methodone):&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Angelina Jolie&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.alleba.com/blog/wp-content/photos/angelina_jolie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;I loved, admired, and adored this woman when she performed magnificently in the film &lt;em&gt;Girl, Interrupted.&lt;/em&gt; Unfortunately, since she hooked up with Brad Pitt, it's been "Brangelina" this, and "Ambassador" that. Don't get me wrong, I think what she is doing for her adopted children is wonderful, as well as her humanitarian work. Even if her donations are only a small piece of her pie, that money is still worth a great deal to those who need it. But come on, Angie, it's not necessary to steal someone else's husband and whore your kids keep yourself in the headlines. Please give us another amazing performance, we miss you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Will Smith&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://milkdudsandcoke.files.wordpress.com/2008/06/will-smith-400a3143.jpg" border="0" /&gt;This cat was a lot of fun on &lt;em&gt;The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.&lt;/em&gt; Goofy, yet smart. He ragged on his cousin Carlton and his Uncle Phil mercilessly, but he genuinely cared for them. And he and DJ Jazzy Jeff made quite the pair. And then...movie stardom got to his head. I remember reading that he would not use curse words in his songs, to honor a request from his grandmother. I am totally okay with that, I respect everyone's personal beliefs as long as they don't interfere with my life. What I am not okay with is inconsistency. Sure, wholesome Will Smith won't swear in his albums, but he has no problem swearing in his movies. I mean, really. Every filmmaker wants this guy; he's money in the bank. You'd think that the producers and directors would accommodate Will's request to tone down the swearing in his films, but---to my knowledge, Will never made any such request while filming any movie. Not that I have a problem if he swears in his movies; I've got quite the sailor mouth myself. But don't say one thing and do another. To intelligent humans, that's not cool. If Alicia Silverstone can convince the crew on her short-lived TV show to make her character vegan, surely Will can make a few adjustments. And I'd have no problem if he temporarily went back to his silly roots, graffiti on the walls and all. You're never too old to be goofy :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Tila Tequila&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.falloutcentral.com/news/wp-content/uploads/2007/12/16_tila3_lgl.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know, I think I may be wrong about this young lady. She needn't disappear temporarily. No. Instead, she should be smashed with hammers and be strapped to a rocket sent to the Sun. She's that vile. So she's a bisexual. OoooohoooooHOOOO! Big motherfucking DEAL! As if no other person in this entire world isn't a bisexual! This chica smokes a little cock and munches a little hair pie, and she's deserving of our attention and money? Fuck that! I'll save my attention for a lesbian who has earned my respect, like Rachel Maddow. Honey, if you're reading this: looks and vaginas will only get you so far. They will fade, and they will shrivel. That's the way life goes. Looks are nice, but intelligence and personality are the traits that will win people over. Your fans may not realize it now, but they will when they discover that when they realize they're bagging the groceries of the successful ladies they ignored or picked on in their heyday. So sweetheart, do the thinking world a favor and prance off a cliff. (Nice tats, though...except for the guns)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Brooke Hogan&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://pub.tv2.no/multimedia/TV2/archive/00160/epa_brooke_hogan_160736a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Brooke "Ho"gan is right! For those of you who have not had the displeasure of being aware of this, Brooke Bollea is using the pseudonym of her washed-up, once-famous father, Terry "Hulk Hogan" Bollea in order to boost her own star quality, if any exists. (Hey hey hey HEY! Shame on you Hulk, watch your hand!) You see, not only is Ho riding on the balcony of the "my daddee yoostabee faymess" train, she also uses her bleached blonde hair and parades her skankaroo body around in next to nothing to leverage her "celebrity" status. Yuck. No, I won't give my time to a common dive bunny. But this girl is a freaking angel when compared to this....(cue &lt;em&gt;Psycho&lt;/em&gt; violins)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Linda Hogan&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/photos/uncategorized/2008/06/11/linda_hogan.jpg" border="0" /&gt;I just threw up in my mouth a little. Okay...this woman is older than my own parents. Why is she dating someone younger than me? Granted, they're both adults and they can do as they wish, but come on! Well, then again, I don't suppose either one can do any better. This woman likely spent her young adulthood skanking around, so she doesn't have any real qualities a woman her age should have. So she has to stretch her youth for as long as possible: the bleached hair, the fake tits, the tan, the twentysomething clothes. Sadly, Mrs. Ho is not stretching very well. There are plenty of women who can stretch their youth (Alley Mills is a good example). But this woman's stretching is akin to silly putty; making an already bad product worse. Please, for the love of Jebus, take your teenager-gallivanting elsewhere! It's like picturing someone's dear, sweet grandma with a scaling tan and a string bikini!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;6. Miley Cyrus&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://img.timeinc.net/time/daily/2008/0804/miley_cyrus_vf_0430.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Unbelievable. I do a google image search for this girl (not woman, not even young lady----girl), and what did I find? Myspace slut-like pics (none nearly as tasteful as this pic here)! I did not post it here, because frankly, I don't put on a show for pedos. Prostitot aside...when will this ridiculous Hannah Banana Montana Alabama fad end?! Even Lizzie McGuire didn't last as long! I honestly think that she may have had the favor (and pleasure) of fading into obscurity if it weren't for her lunkhead, hillbilly father riding on her coattails. For those of you who are lucky not to be old enough to remember, Billy Ray Cyrus is the cretin responsible for the awesomely bad "Achy Breaky Heart." And it spawned a dance fad! Thank goodness it was only a one-hit wonder. But I digress; most of the sane world had forgotten about "Achy Breaky" until this simpleton came along! Fortunately, I have never watched a "Hannah Montana" episode nor have I heard any of her songs. But I can't escape her! She's on TV! The Internet! Lunch Boxes! Bed sheets! What next? Hannah Montana tampons? Hannah Montana douche? ("Feel that Montana breeze!") And we all know that "30 is the new 20," so it's going to take decades before we can get rid of her! But, in all seriousness, I do have something to say: You're still young, and you do have potential. Please don't go the way of Parasite Hilton or Lindsay Lohan. You are annoying, but you can do better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;7. Pete Wentz&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.celebritywonder.com/picture/Pete_Wentz/PeteWentz_Truscello_13548594.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, god. "Dewchebaggery" at its finest. Pete, first of all, you look like a big toe. You dress like a 14-year-old girl. You make your money by stealing the thunder of the lead singer of your crappy band (whose name you stole unoriginally, by the way, from &lt;em&gt;The Simpsons&lt;/em&gt;), pretending to be emo (which is pretty stupid to begin with), and wearing more makeup than a French prostitute. Tell me, young man, what do you have to say for yourself? What do you think you've accomplished that makes you so special? Ohhhhh. Now I get it. You knocked up and eventually married an equally untalented lip syncer who happens to be riding the coattails of her dumb-as-a-squash-with-a-butt-chin sister! Wow! Good for you! Congratulations! You make me sick.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Trust me, there are plenty more people I'd love to add to this list. Some of you may be asking, "Why not include Sarah Palin?" Well, most of the world has already expressed their opinion of this waste of a human being, and she's not worthy to grace my blog. Not now, anyway ;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now that I've gotten the ugliness out of the way, let's take a moment to recognize those who have earned my respect :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;1. Seth Rogen&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://thephoenix.com/OutsideTheFrame/content/binary/rogen2.jpg" border="0" /&gt; ~*sigh*~ Quite possibly, one of the coolest men on the planet! Yes, his films are hilarious, notably, &lt;em&gt;Superbad.&lt;/em&gt; But to really appreciate his work, one must look past the crude humor and see the story. You can tell that the heart is there. And even if you can't, who cares? How many of you can say that you've written a successful script by age 15? And, as superficial as it sounds, he's a hottie! The softer side is always more attractive! Nobody wants to make love to a washboard! Ack---losing myself. Anyway, Seth, you're great :) Just thought you should know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;2. John Waters&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://ilovethisworld.com/wp-content/uploads/2006/12/johnwatersxmas.jpg" border="0" /&gt; This man completely rules. I've enjoyed his films since I was 5 (starting with &lt;em&gt;Hairspray,&lt;/em&gt; of course! I didn't get into his earlier works until I was MUCH older!), and I will likely enjoy his work until I die. Hey, I'll even enjoy his work while I'm burning in Hell! His earlier work, such as &lt;em&gt;Pink Flamingos, Female Trouble, &lt;/em&gt;and &lt;em&gt;Polyester&lt;/em&gt; went in directions that most directors won't even touch, even in 2008. And even though The Great John Waters is in his 60s, it won't stop him from enjoying life and having fun! Even though his modern films are much, much tamer than his earlier films, they still have that Baltimore Waters charm. My words won't do it justice; I advise you to see his movies to see what I mean. John Waters, you rule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;3. George Carlin&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://a201.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/1/l_96a2270dfc8a3f568fbb58a305e2bb70.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Okay, my intent for this entire blog was to include only the living, but I'm sorry, I cannot leave out the genius that was George Carlin. He was a success in his own right, telling the world what he really thought and not giving a shit if anyone was offended. He was funny because he was right. And morons like Bill O'Rubmybelly just didn't get it. He and Bill Hicks were the great ones. Yes, their words and their gift of laughter live on, and I hate to sound greedy, but couldn't it have lived a little longer? Why George Carlin? Why not the congealed mass of stupid that is Dane Cook? George Carlin: RIP, Rip 'em In Pieces! If Fred "Skeletor" Phelps is right about Carlin burning in Hell, I'm sure he's giving Satan some laughs :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;4. Dennis Kucinich&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.thinkyouth.org/wp-content/uploads/2008/06/dennis_kucinich.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;My dream politician. Someone who is concerned about animal rights. Someone who sees the unnecessary danger of firearms. Someone who sees how absolutely ridiculous the War in Iraq is. Someone who wants to bring back the Fairness Doctrine. Someone who supports same-sex marriage. Someone who is in favor of the access of healthcare for all citizens. Someone who actually gives a damn about the people he is serving! We could have had the swell pleasure and pride to call this man our president, but sadly, the American people aren't ready. Not just conservatards, but liberals as well. And you know what, that's okay. It would be a bit of an adjustment, considering the 8-year fuckcluster we just lived through. If (hopefully when) Obama takes office, it will take us on a nice transition to a better America. If America is supposed to be the greatest nation on Earth, the most envied, the richest, etc., then why do so many aspire to live in Canada, England, France, or elsewhere? If you want your taxpayers to stay and represent your country in the way it deserves to be represented, you've got to give them their due.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Believe me, there are plenty more people I admire, and I'd love to include them, but I'll save it for another time. I'm a little beat, and a few people are dying to see this blog. Again, I apologize for my sabbatical, but I'll be back very soon. Mwahaha. Ha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-980906593417665737?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/980906593417665737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=980906593417665737' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/980906593417665737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/980906593417665737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/09/cripes-on-crotchulent-crumb-cracker-its.html' title='For the love of buttfloss, GET LOST!'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-3426917707799251353</id><published>2008-08-03T00:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T01:08:40.700-07:00</updated><title type='text'>6 Terrifying Things They Don't Tell You About Childbirth</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;I cried. Tears of fear? A little. Tears of fulfillment? Nah. Tears of undeniable humor? Oh hells to the yes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Credit goes to this &lt;a href="http://www.cracked.com/article_16508_6-terrifying-things-they-dont-tell-you-about-childbirth.html"&gt;wonderful site of wonderment.&lt;/a&gt; The Social Deviant is madly in love. Thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-3426917707799251353?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/3426917707799251353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=3426917707799251353' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/3426917707799251353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/3426917707799251353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/08/6-terrifying-things-they-dont-tell-you.html' title='6 Terrifying Things They Don&apos;t Tell You About Childbirth'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-3371125550055373251</id><published>2008-07-25T18:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T19:09:02.001-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Waffle House is KING!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i309.photobucket.com/albums/kk368/danlewisnet/MySpace/sign.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i309.photobucket.com/albums/kk368/danlewisnet/MySpace/sign.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You think I'm lying?  I'm not!  Waffle House has to be one of the greatest restaurants ever!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yeah, yeah, I know.  "SD!  But...you're a liberal!  You're a vegetarian!  How could you?!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, now....settle down, my children.  I have not turned conservative (fuck no!), nor have I started eating meat again.  Here, I will list the magnificent joys of this...this...HEAVEN!  (And when you see why I love this place, you will, too!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*The waffles are out of this world.  They're soft, slightly sweet, and melt in your mouth.  Best ever.  Nobody even comes close.  IHOP, you say?  Fuck IHOP!  Pancakes are lame, anyway!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*They're open 24 hours!  Yeah, your beloved IHOP is also open 24/7 (in most places).  But let's be real.  If you need a 3 am dinner, or if you've just enjoyed a night of partying, what's the first place you think of going?  Waffle House!  Again...fuck IHOP and everyone who likes IHOP.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*It's cozy!  You come in, you sit your ass down, and you chillax.  Oh!  Oh..you don't get to chillax at IHOP?  You have to wait a million years for the disinterested hostess to seat you?  Awww.  Only a few booths at Waffle House, which means that the staff is able to be more attentive to your wants and needs?  IHOP?  Hey, forget about it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*The HASHBROWNS!  With it's smothered, covered, diced, peppered, capped goodness!  Pure comfort food.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*The clientele!  Especially in the middle of the night!  The drunks and rednecks that come in and talk junk are a riot!  And it almost always ends up as an altercation and/or an eviction from the restaurant by the manager.  Free entertainment, you can't beat that!  Really, you'd have to go to a Waffle House at 2 am to see what I mean!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*The staff!  They're very nice, very hard-working people.  At least to me.  Bernadette at the IHOP?  Did she refill your coffee without an attitude?  Didn't think so.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*The sentimental value.  Yes, I'll admit it.  I've spent a couple of middle-of-the-night dinners at Waffle House with a special someone.  It sounds weird, but I think I have more special memories at Waffle House (and other cheapy restaurants) than at the fancy, needlessly expensive places.  Hell, one couple adores Waffle House so much, &lt;a href="http://bushleague.tv/2008/07/10/holy-shit-waffle-house-wedding-time/"&gt;they did this!&lt;/a&gt; (Not something I would do, but hey, to each his own.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And there you have it.  Waffle House rules.  If you disagree, you suck.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;p.s.  I don't hate IHOP.  I just prefer a certain other restaurant over IHOP.  You probably don't have the foggiest idea what restaurant it is, do you?  Mwahaha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-3371125550055373251?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/3371125550055373251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=3371125550055373251' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/3371125550055373251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/3371125550055373251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/07/waffle-house-is-king.html' title='Waffle House is KING!!!'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i309.photobucket.com/albums/kk368/danlewisnet/MySpace/th_sign.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-2428793718822398120</id><published>2008-07-25T18:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T18:26:05.279-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An open letter from a hater.</title><content type='html'>Dear Chick-Fil-A:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kindly get the fuck over yourself.  You are a fast food joint.  You can offer a dessert menu in that oh-so-cute little leather booklet all you want to, you are still a fast food joint.  (BTW, doesn't leather clash with the philosophy of your dyslexic Cow mascot?  Hmmm....)  You can carry a tray of carrot salad to all the breeders' tables that you want to, you are still a fast food joint.  You can impress all the entitled, Oprah-salivating, Croc-wearing, coupon-wielding breeders that you want with that humongous pepper grinder, you are still a fast food joint.  You can brag about how "healthy" your foods are all you want to, you're still a fast food joint.  Just because you use real chicken, and make lemonade with real lemon, doesn't make it healthy.  You use enough sugar in both your lemonade and your iced tea to recreate Santa's workshop at the North Pole.  And your beloved "Chikin" is loaded with sodium.  So don't front.  You are a fast food joint.   Oh, but please, please continue to gloss over that fact by calling yourself a "Quick Service Restaurant."  It only makes you look foolish.  Because you know, I know, and your bestest buddy Jeebus knows that you are a fast food restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and managers...chill the fuck out.  I swear, whenever one customer comes in, it's like a code blue at the hospital!  You practically scramble every single employee from every corner of the universe, just to take this poor schmuck's order, and he hasn't even decided what he wants yet!  Nobody will have a heart attack if you don't fellate them right away.  This is not the sinking of the goddamn Titanic.  Relax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;End.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-2428793718822398120?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/2428793718822398120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=2428793718822398120' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/2428793718822398120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/2428793718822398120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/07/open-letter-from-hater.html' title='An open letter from a hater.'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-7870180799735384515</id><published>2008-07-15T19:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T20:08:32.190-07:00</updated><title type='text'>35 minutes...or you're fired!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v258/agrosa/Funny-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v258/agrosa/Funny-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why did I put this .jpg here?  Meh, I felt like it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway....I didn't think my job could be any more ridiculous.  What?  I didn't!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was a very slow night, so I was milling around, doing menial chores...I was that bored.  All of a sudden, my dork manager is in front of me, informing me of some new rule.  I silently sigh, expecting to hear something ridiculous.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay, what's the new rule?" I ask.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"All employees are now mandated to take 35-minute breaks," the manager explains.  "If you take a break that is less than 35 minutes, that puts you in a terminable position."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I didn't think I heard him correctly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Wait....what?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Your break has to be 35 minutes, no less.  If you take a break that is less than 35 minutes, you can lose your job."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Blink*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We really like you a lot, SD," the manager says with pleading eyes, "Please don't put yourself in this position."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I, still in disbelief, press on: "What if we take 30-minute breaks, right down to the minute?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"If your break is less than 35 minutes, then that is the factor that can cost you your job."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Okay," I say, still in shock, "What happens if we go over 35 minutes, say, 37 minutes?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The manager repeats, "If your break is under 35 minutes, you get fired."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I manage to stand there before uttering, "Umm....thanks for letting me know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, my pleasure," the manager says before making his "new rule" speech to other employees.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After two minutes, while the manager is updating the rest of the crew, I go up to him, trying my hardest not to laugh, and say, "Hold on, Manager.  This has to be a joke."  The manager looks at me with the most serious face I've ever seen and says, "SD, look at my face." &lt;em&gt;Gee, do I have to?&lt;/em&gt;  "I am not laughing.  This is serious."  I start to lose my resolve, and while I unsuccessfully try to hide my smirk, I say, "This is the most backwards thing I have ever heard!"  Now the manager was starting to get impatient.  He says my name with a stonier look and an even stonier voice, as if he's about to lecture me.  I interrupt him and say, "No, no, no---I understand that rules are rules.  It's just that I've never been in trouble for being early."  "All right," the manager says, desperate to get away from me, "as long as you understand."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The reason that the owner of my workplace is mandating 35-minute breaks is to keep the Department of Labor satisfied.  In the past, employees have been miscalculating their break times, coming back 29 minutes early.  Technically, this is illegal by DOL standards.  The owner wants to make sure that all employees abide by the rules so his business is safe, and that is completely understandable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What is &lt;strong&gt;not&lt;/strong&gt; understandable, however, is the immediate firing of anyone who goes under 35 minutes.  I could agree with progressive discipline (verbal warning, written warning, suspension, termination), but not outright termination.  Basically, if someone loses track of the time, and if they clock in just a few seconds shy of 35 minutes (because our clocks only record minutes, not seconds), that person is at risk of losing their livelihood.  It's kind of extreme, in my opinion.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Plus, employees lose money from it.  Let's just say a full-time employee (like me) works 5 days a week, and takes one 35-minute break a day.  Compared to the previous 30-minute mandated break, that's an extra 25 minutes a week, and an extra 50 minutes every pay cycle.  So I'm losing close to an hour's pay on each paycheck.  It may not seem like much, but it does add up.  That's money that I could be putting in my gas tank, money that I could use to buy groceries, or money that I could use for my own personal benefit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So...yeah.  Never a dull moment here; every time I think this place couldn't be any more silly, they always surprise me!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-7870180799735384515?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/7870180799735384515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=7870180799735384515' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/7870180799735384515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/7870180799735384515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/07/35-minutesor-youre-fired.html' title='35 minutes...or you&apos;re fired!'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-5690075353583910027</id><published>2008-07-02T17:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T17:42:43.173-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh no, I didn't!  Oh yes, I did!</title><content type='html'>*sigh* What. A. Day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't think I have encountered so much rudeness in one day in my entire life.  Here's what happened:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I'm at the register during a lunch rush about to assist a couple, but as they come to my station, 4 little brats, summoned by their dopey father, come to me with coupons in hand, begging for their free ice creams.  I summon the couple, who look pretty pissed about being disrespected (rightfully so), as they make a hand motion that gives me permission to service these little shits first.  The kids keep yelling, "We want ice cream!  We want ice cream!"  So I reply, "Here's what's going to happen.  I will get you your ice cream, but first, I am going to help these people first, because &lt;em&gt;they&lt;/em&gt; were nice enough not to cut in line!"  And with that, I summon the couple, who look pleasantly surprised.  The children were crestfallen for the three minutes before I handed them their ice creams.  The dad didn't really care either way, he was staring out in space sipping his god-awful sweet tea (oh, you Southerners!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*During this same lunch rush, 10 minutes later, a 10-year-old boy comes to me with his free ice cream coupon.  I give him the ice cream.  He stares at the ice cream with disdain, gives me a dirty look, then walks away.  &lt;em&gt;Oh &lt;strong&gt;hell &lt;/strong&gt;no!&lt;/em&gt;  I immediately leave my station, not giving a damn if it's busy, and go straight to the table where the boy and his mother are (and another woman, probably another moo friend of hers).  I say, "Your son was rude and gave me a dirty look.  The two cows proceed to laugh.  "It's not funny,"  I reply sternly.  As soon as the moos shut up, I turned to the boy and said sharply, "If you don't want the ice cream, then give it back to me....now!"  The boy hesistantly hands the ice cream to me.  I snatch it, and return to my post.  At that point, I wouldn't have cared if I got a complaint, and surprisingly, I didn't.  It's ironic, because breeders are usually the first people to bitch when someone hurts their pweshus Aiden's feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Later that evening, when it wasn't too busy, I tried to be as friendly as possible to this toothless, hillbilly couple with a baby.  I said, in my friendliest voice, "Hi, how are you today?"  "Would you care for a refill?"  "Is there anything I can get for you?"  The husband was polite to me, his moo cow wife just kind of stared at me.  Maybe she was high on moonshine, I don't know.  When I noticed the moo getting up to leave with her baby, I was about to wish her a good night until I noticed that she left her table completely trashed.  I said, "Thanks so much for cleaning up!  I'd love to see your house sometime!"  The moo continued to go out the door, ignoring me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*After my shift, I decided to go to McDonald's for their fries.  I needed cheap and quick food, and since I am a veggie, this is the only palatable food at McDonald's (at least to me).  So I go to the register and order a large fry from the indifferent cashier, and then I sit down with my food.  2 minutes later, I realize that I do not want to eat in a dirty restaurant with screaming kids, so I put my fries in the paper bag, then put it in my purse.  As I leave, I notice the cashier pointing to me and saying to her coworker, quite loudly, "That fat girl ate all those fries so fast!"  &lt;em&gt;Oh hell &lt;strong&gt;fuck &lt;/strong&gt;no!&lt;/em&gt;  I march up to the counter to the cashier and say, "Excuse me, young lady, what was that?"  The cashier flings her long, fake nails and says, "I jussaid you ate the food all fast and errthang, dassawl."  "'That fat girl,' right?" I say.  The cashier just rolls her eyes and scoffs.  I reply, "And that's why you're going to be working here for the rest of your life, because of your fucking attitude!"  As the cashier's eyes widen with shock, I, using very deliberate movements, take the fries out of my purse and and pour them on the counter.  "You can eat these crusty fries.  Maybe you'll eat them faster than I did!"  And with that, I storm out, all while hearing the cashier complain about having to clean up the mess.  I didn't even bother asking for my $1.75 back.  Mature of me?  No.  Classless?  Maybe.  Deserved?  Oh hell yes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I've just been having this "I don't give a fuck" attitude, and I wasn't going to let a bunch of morons get away with being assholes.  Nope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-5690075353583910027?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/5690075353583910027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=5690075353583910027' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/5690075353583910027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/5690075353583910027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/07/oh-no-i-didnt-oh-yes-i-did.html' title='Oh no, I didn&apos;t!  Oh yes, I did!'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-1088150053896468025</id><published>2008-06-27T19:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T19:15:59.901-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I love children.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, buttersnarts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am so very sorry, my readers. Due to a glitch in my twisted little mind, I neglected to add some key information in my title that could change your expectations dramatically. Have I gone the way of the status quo? Do I want more than anything to be friends with mommies and blossom in the love of a child of my own?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck no!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You see, my friends, what I meant to say was not "I love children." Jesus Ponyfucking Christ, no! What I meant to say was.... "I love &lt;em&gt;to scare&lt;/em&gt; children."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://magfree.files.wordpress.com/2007/07/end-times.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yeah, that's right. I cannot think of a greater pleasure than putting on my fabulous Halloween mask, driving around in my car, and frightening the children (hell, even some adults) in my neighborhood. My friend and I used to do it all the time back home...I'd drive, she'd wear the mask and scream, and the tears would come roooooooolling! I think I lost a good 10 pounds from all the laughing I did; it was great! And...we even accidentally startled someone so much, we made her drop her groceries! Of course, she gave us the finger, but it was worth it!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who says Halloween can't be year-round, huh?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And no, morons, I am not out to kidnap or do anything physically harmful to your little Cody or Madysen or Cayden or Ashlynn. I don't like kids, and I barely want anything to do with them. However, getting a great reaction out of them over something like this is great!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.babble.com/CS/blogs/strollerderby/monster%20mask.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean, really. If you really wanted to scare kids, why not show them a mask of this?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.truechristian.com/img/Fred_Phelps_Preaching_8-4-2002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let the unabashed hate mail begin!  I look forward to your ignorance :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-1088150053896468025?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/1088150053896468025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=1088150053896468025' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/1088150053896468025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/1088150053896468025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-love-children.html' title='I love children.'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-610198893097941823</id><published>2008-06-25T17:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T18:20:53.881-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Radio Shack can eat a big, fat one.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.venturaweekly.com/images/2006/radioshack1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.venturaweekly.com/images/2006/radioshack1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dear Radio Shack:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I hate you from the bottom of my black little soul.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Very Sincerely,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The Social Deviant&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Radio Shack is, in my humble opinion, one of the worst stores I have ever encountered. Not only is their merchandise lame, but their employees are rude and desperate. Here are a few examples:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;*I'm in a Radio Shack in Norfolk, VA purchasing a pay-as-you-go phone. At this time, I was a starving student, unemployed, and it would not have been financially wise of me to get into a contract without the means to hold up my end of the bargain. As I go to make my purchase, the clerk asks me if I am interested in a plan with Sprint (oh, don't &lt;em&gt;even&lt;/em&gt; get me started on Sprint!). I say, "No, thank you, now is not a good time." "Why?" "Well..." I start to explain, wondering why this is any of his business, "I don't qualify for a plan right now. This phone right here will be just fine." The clerk proceeds to chuckle at this reply, adding, "You'll be fine. Even Mexicans can get a plan with Sprint." I am not Mexican, but I was pretty damn offended by his words. I leave and decide to get my phone elsewhere.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;*I'm in a Radio Shack in Jacksonville, FL, because I had just moved from Norfolk, and after driving through 3 states, I realize that I left my cell phone charger at home. Nuts. So, I go inside the store, and wait a good 20 minutes to be seen, as the sales clerk is virtually jizzing all over the customer in front of me because he apparently signed a huge cell-phone contract. When it's my turn to be seen, the clerk is friendly with me until I show him my phone and ask, "I lost my cell phone charger, and I was wondering if I could have a replacement?" The clerk looks at my phone with disgust and says, derisively, "What kind of phone is &lt;em&gt;that?&lt;/em&gt;" Taken aback, I stammer, "Umm...well....it's a Kyocera." The clerk scoffs and says, "You know, we have great cell phone plans here." "No, thank you," I say, "I just need a cell phone charger." "The monthly costs of these plans are about the same as what you are paying for your PAYG right now." "No thank you," I repeat through gritted teeth, "I can't have a plan right now." "Why?" the clerk asks rudely. Now I get pissed. "You wanna know why? Well, I just moved to this state tonight, I don't have a job, and I'm getting a divorce. That's why!" I, being the naive jerk that I was, thought that this sob story would get him to back off. But no. Instead, he says, "Well, you'd better get this plan now, before the divorce ruins your credit." At this point, I would have told him to go fuck himself and leave, but...I needed a charger. So I just say, "Just get me my charger." And, as expected, he wasn't nearly as friendly to me as he was to the gentleman who got him his commission. He simply got the charger, rang it up, and handed it to me. No "thank you," no "have a nice night," no nothing. So I snatched the charger from him and stormed out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;*I'm in a Radio Shack in Melbourne, FL with my boyfriend because we were too bored to do anything else, ha ha ha. My current cell phone (with a plan that I did &lt;strong&gt;not&lt;/strong&gt; receive from Radio Shack) is kind of lame, so I decided to see which new, nifty phones were available. I had no intention of buying a phone right there and then, but perhaps later in the future. No sooner than 3 seconds since I walk through the door, a sales clerk gets in my face: "Welcome to Radio Shack, is there anything I can help you find?" "No, thanks," I say. "Well, let me know if you need help." "Thank you," I say. Two minutes later, another clerk gets in my face, "Hi, do you need any help?" "No, thanks," I say. "Are you interested in a plan?" the clerk asks as he follows me around the store. "No," I say, slightly loudly. "You need batteries?" "No, thank you," I say sternly, "I appreciate your help, but I will let you know if I need it." The clerk moves on to the next unsuspecting victim. I try to hide in a relatively secluded area of the store (read: jumbo universal remotes and outdated CB radios) with my boyfriend, just to escape the employees. 30 seconds later, the manager gets in our faces: "You folks need some help picking out a radio?" "No! No, goddammit!! Jesus Farting Christ, if you need the commission that badly, why don't you go dry hump your mom?!" No...I did not say this, although I kind of wish I did, haha. Instead of replying, boyfriend and I run as fast as we can out of the store. Even he was exasperated by the constant bothering. So much so that we have a running joke: every time we pass a Radio Shack we get in each other's faces and ask, "Can I help you find something?" "You need a new cell phone?" We do this until one of us pretends to get fed up and pretends to choke the other, lol!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;So that's pretty much it. As big-box is Best Buy is, their selection is a million times better, and their service is great. I'm hoping that it won't go the way of Circuit City (which is also decent). Patronize them, as well as locally-owned businesses. Fuck Radio Shack. The end.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-610198893097941823?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/610198893097941823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=610198893097941823' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/610198893097941823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/610198893097941823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/06/radio-shack-can-eat-big-fat-one.html' title='Radio Shack can eat a big, fat one.'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-8323601062370968294</id><published>2008-06-19T19:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T19:53:42.258-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Customer Service</title><content type='html'>What can I say?  It sucks these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually, I'm pretty indifferent toward, well, indifferent service.  Maybe I'm used to it.  But there are times when the staff is just incompetent, lazy, rude, or all three.  Take today, for example:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to a certain department store (who shall remain nameless) to make a return.  Well, I went straight to the customer service desk, where returns are usually dealt with.  Well, I got to my designated spot in line, smiled and waited patiently.  One woman was already busy with another customer.  Fine.  Another woman fiddled with her stapler, chatted with another coworker on the side, and basically waddled her ass around, pretty much ignoring me all the while.  No: "Do you need some help, ma'am?"  No: "I'll be right with you."  I got nothing.  After 7 minutes, I decide to write down the number of the district manager when this woman looks up and smiles at me.  Only 2 seconds later do I realize that she is not smiling at me, but rather, at two other women who decide to go straight to the customer service desk, where they are promptly helped with friendliness.  After about 10 minutes, when this woman finishes up, does she help me?  Nope.  She continues to flutter around, doing nothing.  At that point, I got pissed.  I put the number of the district manager on my phone and proceeded to leave, when the other cashier, who had just finished up her business with her customer, asked if she could help me.  I said, "I have been waiting for a while, and she let them cut in front of me."  Now the woman decides to speak to me!  She says, quite curtly, "They had to go to another part of the store and find something for me to fix.  They were already here."  Whatever, asshole.  I tell the friendly cashier, "I need to make a return."  The cashier tells me, "I'm sorry, we're no longer doing returns right now."  Now I'm really pissed.  I practically yell, "Just forget it!"  And I storm out, reaming out the district manager on the phone all the while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my philosophy: you have a job to do, and it is your responsibility to do that job.  If you don't like it, find something else or suck it the hell up.  We all had to do it, you're no different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to my fellow customers: if you don't like the way a business is treating you (and how it takes your hard-earned money for granted), take action!  Let the higher-ups know how you feel!  Contact the managers, write onion letters (which detail poor experiences) to the corporate offices, and quit wasting your time and money there.  And, if you have to, warn your friends and loved ones about the shitty experiences you've had there!  Don't be discouraged about big businesses, either.  Without the customer loyalty, any business is doomed!  I mean, look at Burger King!  They used to be great, now they've turned to pure vomitrocious shit!  Look, the point is, if you hate the way that you and your money are being treated, and you continue to go to the same place over and over and over again, and if their customer service methods haven't changed, you are partly to blame for keeping them alive.  A business with a strong desire to stay in business will do anything to keep you happy.  And any business who could care less, well, they'll just have to deal with the consequences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If, on the other hand, you've had a great experience somewhere, again, let them know!  Commend the employee, the managers, and the corporate offices.  Write orchid letters (letters that detail great experiences).  Recommend the place of business to your family and friends.  Businesses love customer loyalty.  So much, in fact, that many of them will offer you special perks like discounts, coupons, freebies, and some will even let you know about new merchandise, specials, et al. before most of the general public.  Encourage these businesses to keep up the good work by continuing your support and loyalty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Use your money wisely.  End rant.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-8323601062370968294?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/8323601062370968294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=8323601062370968294' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/8323601062370968294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/8323601062370968294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/06/customer-service.html' title='Customer Service'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-5384610427193651593</id><published>2008-06-15T14:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T14:59:08.134-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Your Kids are not Special</title><content type='html'>Nor are they cute, precious, or funny.  And damned if &lt;em&gt;I'm&lt;/em&gt; going to revere something that simply runs around and screams all the time.  I'll save my respect for those who have earned it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this guy gets it ---&gt; &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=QJeC2ss32-k"&gt;Click here!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-5384610427193651593?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/5384610427193651593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=5384610427193651593' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/5384610427193651593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/5384610427193651593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/06/your-kids-are-not-special.html' title='Your Kids are not Special'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-7808558462150317690</id><published>2008-05-29T18:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T18:43:20.702-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ehhhhhh.......</title><content type='html'>I've found myself writing fewer substantial blogs, and more "bits and pieces" blogs.  Nobody seems to mind, so...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*What the fuck.  I mean, really.  What the fuck.  The restaurant in which I work displays two options: a meal or an entree.  And, as I expected, I got the usual ridiculous tripe: "What do you mean by entree?"  "I'll have the chicken salad meal, the entry. (Yes, they pronounce it as "entry.")"  "I want the entree, but I want it with a side salad and an iced tea."  Why, FSM?  Why must I be surrounded by idiots?  I don't like to wish harm on anyone, but I have to make my future secure.  So I'm going to say it: the food we serve is, shall we say, less than healthy.  So there is a good chance that the population of Clods will level off eventually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Another thing...I had a young woman order a chicken salad sandwich, then almost shit herself when she read that it was around 700 calories.  "Why is it so high?!  I thought it was healthy!!"  I'm thinking, "Yes, because anything that's swimming with mayonnaise and laden with egg yolks just whittles down your waistline, you stupid bitch."  Duh, people!  If you are concerned about dietary guidelines, look at the nutritional menu BEFORE you order!  We have them available for your convenience!  If you have questions, ask us (or preferably, your doctor).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*A few of my coworkers gave me shit for my dating standards.  I already have a wonderful guy, so I am not looking.  But, for the sake of argument, let's say I was.  Here are my standards: must not have kids, must not want kids, must be liberal, must be older than I am (at least 5 years, but no more than 20), must not be employed at the same place as I am, must accept the fact that I am Agnostic, must be pro-choice, must have a sense of humor, must be faithful, must be reliable, must treat me with respect, and white is preferred.  Keep in mind, this is for MY personal relationship, which affects nobody else.  Immediately, I am labeled as a racist freak.  Whatever.  One of my coworkers is 5 years younger than I am, he works with me, he's African-American, and he's a "playa."  Four strikes against him.  He's used to having women flock to him, and I have more self-respect than that, and I guess he hates it.  Oh well.  Call me what you will; I stand by my standards.  I've spent years upon years trying to make everyone else happy; it's time for ME to be happy (and I am now :) ).  If everyone else is so insecure that they have to criticize everyone else's choices, then that's their problem, not mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I am my own God.  Only I can decide my destiny.  Sure, I'm going to have some help along the way, but ultimately, my life is what I make of it.  And that goes for everyone else.  Believe any deity you please, but to make it in this world, you've got to take responsibility for yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*All day yesterday, I worried about my SIMS.  Sad, right?  I was concerned about my child-Sim's grades slipping, and about one of my adult-Sim's relationships failing.  See what happens when I have few friends down here?  Haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I'm all about DIY.  I want to learn to sew and knit so I can make my own clothes, accessories, and the like.  I already make my own jewelry.  It would be much cheaper, more fulfilling, and they'd make great conversation starters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I own more books than I do shoes.  Take that, you shoe-hating shopaphobe! (You know who you are!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I don't get breeders.  They cry and whine about why we don't think their baybees are the second coming of Christ, but if we do show attention, they become resistant!  Sure, this is understandable; there are a lot of creeps out there.  But this was completely innocent.  A young child in a stroller said "Hi" to my boyfriend, and he did the polite thing and said, "Hello" back to the child.  The mother gave my boyfriend a disgusted look and immediately turned the stroller around.  Sooooo......alright, then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I can't wait until the season premiere of "Bridezillas."  I'll be honest...I'm not exactly a big fan of weddings.  I regret that I had a wedding when I married my first husband.  When I realized what a pain in the ass one day was (and this was a small, cheap-o wedding!), and when I kept thinking about when it was all going to end so I could leave, I began to realize what bullshit weddings are, and that it's no reason to make a big deal (and a big dent in your savings...$25,000 for a wedding?  Forget that!) about.  However, I do enjoy seeing catty, spoiled bitches make a mountain out of a molehill because one of their bridesmaids refuses to stuff her bra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I don't care for weddings.  I do, however, believe in marriage.  I'd love to marry again.  The next time around, I think I'll elope somewhere far away and not tell anyone until I come back home.  Or even do the courthouse thing.  Having a wedding is absolutely out of the question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I miss my Maryland friends.  I LOVE YOU GUYS!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I'd totally move back to DC, but two things are stopping me: the expensive cost of living and my distaste for cold weather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Out of ramblings already.  Damn.  More to come later!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-7808558462150317690?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/7808558462150317690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=7808558462150317690' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/7808558462150317690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/7808558462150317690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/05/ehhhhhh.html' title='Ehhhhhh.......'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-8274638442513846926</id><published>2008-05-22T19:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T19:42:05.010-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ramblingswrgbfheringverg.....</title><content type='html'>*I was so excited to be able to take the scenic route home today...until it became overcast and rainy.  Granted, my area has been under a dry spell as of late, and we desperately need the rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I got in trouble with my manager because I check for ID when people pay with credit cards.  Yes, you read correctly.  When a card says "Check ID," and I check for ID, the management hates it while the customers truly appreciate it.  I'd be rich if I had a penny for every customer that says, "Thank you so much for asking for [my ID]!  I have it on here for a reason; nobody asks anymore!"  Sadly, I have a few bills and a fantabulous childfree lifestyle to support, so I had no choice but to listen to my boss.  It pained me every time I had to swipe a credit card without checking for identification.  Fortunately, no customers gave me grief.  I also remember an incident a couple of weeks ago when a gentleman got visibly upset when a new cashier didn't check for his ID.  Another manager came to his defense and said, "We don't check IDs here.  We trust everyone."  Head.  Desk.  Times.  Three.  All I can say is that these people are SO lucky that they don't run a pr0n shop/brothel/bar/etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*What the hell is it with Southerners and sweetened iced tea?  It tastes like sugary tobacco spit! (At least by itself)  Cut that out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*And what is it with breeder hicks who think they're soooooo proper?  I had one lady try to impress me by saying, with her nose in the air, "I'll have an Arnold Palmer."  I said, "Okay," and handed her a lemonade and iced tea mix.  She looked slightly shocked that I wasn't just another dumb college kid, and that I'm somewhat wordly.  BTW...ordering a drink named after some golfer doesn't make you sophisticated; it makes you look stupid.  Hell, you can even buy jugs of Arnold Palmer's oh-so-famous drink at the local Publix.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Oh, and families....quit leaving your tremendous messes for us to clean up.  Granted, it's our job to have a pleasant experience for you guys, but when you bitch about a dirty restaurant, it's your own fault.  We open with a clean restaurant.  YOU are the ones who stink up the bathrooms, leave trash everywhere, and let your fugly ass babies throw half-chewed food all over the floor.  Leaving your shit for us does not make you look socially superior, it makes you look like a slovenly pig who doesn't take care of themselves.  We also come to the conclusion that your house looks just as bad (or worse) as the way you leave our restaurant.  So grow the fuck up and clean up your shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*It's God's will to go forth and multiply, is it?  Well, maybe your God should have made the Earth sustainable for all of his chylldrun to survive, huh?  This world is overpopulated, and it won't be much longer before there is a threat to our natural resources.  And who is to blame?  People like you!  And &lt;a href="http://www.duggarfamily.com/"&gt;people like this!&lt;/a&gt;  And cut the crap about, "That's okay, we'll go to Heaven and rejoice!"  Bull.  Shit.  If God was prepared, he could have at least made another planet that was livable for us to survive and live out his word.  But nooooo....the real world doesn't work that way, folks.  Go to college, not church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Your children are not special.  Deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*To the rest of my college-student peers who have to deal with wage-earning bullshit: hang in there.  The lifers are jealous, miserable, and will be doing the same old crap 10 years after they die.  We, however, will move on, have great educations, fabulous jobs, disposable income, and we will be making OUR managers remake our sandwich 3 times because they just couldn't get it right!  Or...maybe we feel like jerking them around.  It's all good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*The end...more coming soon, I'm sure!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-8274638442513846926?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/8274638442513846926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=8274638442513846926' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/8274638442513846926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/8274638442513846926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/05/ramblingswrgbfheringverg.html' title='Ramblingswrgbfheringverg.....'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-6595873379160255376</id><published>2008-05-16T20:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T20:39:05.858-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You're only voting for McCain because you're white!</title><content type='html'>I sooooooo wish I could take credit for this one.  So, so wish I could.  But I am an ethical blogger (well, not necessarily a &lt;em&gt;nice&lt;/em&gt; blogger, but I am ethical), and I give credit where credit is due.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank my lovely friend &lt;a href="http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&amp;amp;friendID=68443375"&gt;Miss Adia&lt;/a&gt; for her wonderful, insightful blog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so sick of people telling me I'm only supporting Obama because he's black. If one more person says it, I am seriously punching them in the face. I like a good debate with intelligent people who won't get offended over the word politics, but when they resort to saying "Well you are only voting for him because he's black" makes you lose automatically!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least in West Virginia, Clinton chose her words more carefully than she did last week when she blurted out to USA Today that "Sen. Obama's support among working, hard-working Americans, white Americans, is weakening again" and how whites who had not completed college were supporting her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clinton sounded less like George Washington and more like George Wallace. Imagine a presidential primary where, after more than 16 months, almost two dozen debates, hundreds of speeches, millions of dollars, and countless chicken dinners, the rationale for electing someone boils down to this: Vote for me. I'm white. I can win because other whites will vote for me.&lt;br /&gt;Why, this could be the new affirmative action. Whatever happened to merit?&lt;br /&gt;Clinton's message in West Virginia was smoother. "I'm winning Catholic voters and Hispanic voters," she told supporters, "and blue-collar workers and seniors, the kind of people that Sen. Mcain will be fighting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, some white Americans are turning themselves inside out to come up with excuses for why they're not supporting Obama. It seems like just yesterday that these folks were arguing there is no racism in the immigration debate, and now they're insisting there is no racism in the presidential election.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some want to know why it isn't racist when 70 percent of African-Americans vote for Obama but it is when 70 percent of whites vote against him.&lt;br /&gt;The answer has to do with history. Over the decades, black Americans have had plenty of opportunities to vote for white people for president. And they have done so. But this is the first time that white Americans have a chance to vote for an African-American with a shot at the presidency. And what are they doing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many are responding quite well. Obama won the votes of many, to borrow a phrase, "hardworking white Americans," in Wisconsin, Minnesota, Iowa, Nebraska and Wyoming. But, elsewhere, as Obama said in a recent interview, people may need to get their head around the concept of an African-American even seeking the presidency, let alone winning it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's understandable. There are places in this country where white Americans are still raised to think of black Americans as inferior. And then comes someone like Obama who has performed off the charts -- from Harvard Law School to the U.S. Senate and now, possibly, on to the White House. It's going to take some time to get used to all that, especially for people who never thought they'd see the day that an African-American would be elected president.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But understand this: They had better hurry up. That day may soon be here.(1)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and Hillary supporters are a piece of work! They are so die hard for her that if she doesn't win, they will vote for Mcain. O_O Wait, Clinton and Mcain do not have the same beliefs. It's like saying "Oh I believe every woman should have the choice to do what she wants with her own body. You don't like abortion? Then don't have one." and then Obama gets the nomination and it's "Fuck all those murderers! Burn in hell! Make abortion illegal! We want this 77 year old man deciding what we can and can't do with our bodies!" O_O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's sickening that a lot of white people I talk to are just so closed minded they can't wrap their uneducated tiny brains around the possibility of a black man doing better than them. How can you say you are democrat and then say in the same breath "Well if Osama Obama wins I'm voting for Mcain."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this muslim shit needs to stop. yeah it's funny to joke about with people who are comfortable with that shit but people really need to educate themselves on the facts. Muslim does not mean terrorist. If Obama was Muslim, who freaking cares!? I have muslim friends and they haven't blown up anything! That is a very dangerous way of thinking and I'm seriously going to cuss out the next person who makes an ignorant comment. "Obama hates America, he doesn't wear a flag pin." Neither do I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Obama doesn't say the pledge" Uh, yeah he does. Th epicture that was going around was proven to be taken at some event where the national athem was sang. Don't know about you but I don't put my hand over my heart during the song. OH! I must hate America!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obama is racist and hates white peope. He only pays attention to the blacks at events." REALLY!? Because if you youtube his events, 90% of the people there are WHITE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm not hating on white people. I'm hating on the bigots who really need to be shot. Here's the solution. We find all the wannabe KKK members, and all the old white people who still think slavery was the best thing ever and their kids because you know they were taught that, put them all in one part of the USA and napalm the shit out of them. There. We wipe out all the racist and we can start focusing on the REAL ISSUES!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The republicans can play their old ass games of attacking over bullshit. Oh well Michele Obama isn't proud of her country. O_O Yeah, let's go ask all the homeless vets how proud they are of this country! I am not proud of this country! LOTS OF PEOPLE ARE NOT PROUD OF THIS COUNTRY! Republicans need to catch up. It's so typical of them not to focus on anything important. Just little jabs here and there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After what George W. Bush said in Israel and all his failed policies which they supported and almost 5,000 of our brave men and women killed because of Bush's lies, lost jobs, high food and gasoline prices, borrowing money from China, all the damage Bush has done in almost 8 years, Tennessee Republicans ought to be talking about they are ashame Bush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am done. You wanna debate with me? Bring facts!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(1) Source: CNN &lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vd3d3LmNubi5jb20vMjAwOC9QT0xJVElDUy8wNS8xNC9uYXZhcnJldHRlL2luZGV4Lmh0bWw="&gt;http://www.cnn.com/2008/POLITICS/05/14/navarrette/index.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-6595873379160255376?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/6595873379160255376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=6595873379160255376' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/6595873379160255376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/6595873379160255376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/05/youre-only-voting-for-mccain-because.html' title='You&apos;re only voting for McCain because you&apos;re white!'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-6790015525985496874</id><published>2008-05-12T18:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T19:06:06.210-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate Wal-Mart</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.rickrollcall.com/images/walfart-always-smelly.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.rickrollcall.com/images/walfart-always-smelly.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I don't care for Wal-Mart.  But not only for the reasons you think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, it's true that Wal-Mart is a consuming bastard that puts honest, hard-working mom and pops out of business, and they also treat their employees worse than shit.  And those things do bother me.  Unfortunately, I am not exactly rich, and my town lacks in quality shopping, so guess where I have to buy most of my groceries and such?  Yep, you guessed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not so much the way-too-bright lights and the unhappy workers that get to me; it's the fellow customers I have to share my precious shopping space with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*the breeders who not only block the damn aisles with their grocery carts laden with disgusting food (like Cup O Noodles, Spaghetti-Os, Dora the Explorer cereal, generic Doritos, milk, white bread), but also let their kids run around and scream like they own the goddamn place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*the lazy asses who would rather use the automatic wheelchairs than walk around like the rest of us.  And all of these people tend to be severely overweight.  Sure, they may have health problems, but maybe they wouldn't have these problems if they took better care of themselves.  Sorry, I have no sympathy for those who use the store wheelchairs.  I will not move out their way so they can block MY view when choosing a box of pasta.  I will not see them as invalids, especially when they're stocking those mini-baskets with cheetos, kool-aid, and Croissant Pockets.  I will, however, give special treatment to those who have legitimate disabilities; those who use mobility aids that are NOT the property of Wal-Mart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*the people that wouldn't know a bath if you threw them in the ocean (if you could lift their fat asses).  Seriously!  They smell like hot garbage drizzled with diarrhea!  And you'd think with all the Capri Sun juice drinks, $5 bargain bin DVDs, and Tombstone pizzas, they'd also buy some freaking soap and toothpaste!  But noooooooo!  I have to revel in their stink!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And these people are the reason that Wal-Mart hardly puts out any alternative foods or publications!  (then again, these good companies likely want nothing to do with a heartless retailer)  Nobody is willing to try tempeh, hemp milk, or vegan ice cream, but they'll buy goat milk, high fructose corn syrup, and beef ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, yeah, I can hear the idiots now: "You chose to shop at Wal-Mart....shop somewhere else....naggity naggity bitch bitch bitch."  Umm...I do shop at other places.  I like these other places.  I didn't care for my visit at Wal-Mart, so I decided to spill my brain about it.  And here's another clue, Einstein: this is my freaking blog.  Just about anything goes in my blog.  Don't like it?  No?  Then get yourself off....then get yourself off my blog.  You will not be missed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wal-Fuck sucks.  The end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-6790015525985496874?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/6790015525985496874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=6790015525985496874' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/6790015525985496874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/6790015525985496874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-hate-wal-mart.html' title='I hate Wal-Mart'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-3720556158579228843</id><published>2008-05-07T18:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T18:52:23.330-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am the Queen of Dorks!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://i72.photobucket.com/albums/i198/kimsy520/dork.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i72.photobucket.com/albums/i198/kimsy520/dork.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yikes! Sorry for the mega-pixels, lol!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyhoo...the worst semester of my life is officially over!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HNLLySoSHlE"&gt;Booty dance, anyone?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yes, I still have to work at my less-than-glamorous job, but it is soooooo nice to be able to come home and not have to crack at the books. I can come home, watch TV, play mindless online games, pig out, and generally have a good time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the dork in me...all day at work on Tuesday, I counted down the hours until clock-out time, because I was so excited to just go home and do the things most people take for granted. And as soon as I got home, I showered, ate dinner, did a few things online, but right after that I skipped (yes, literally skipped) with glee to my bedroom with my Oatmeal Cookie Chunk Ben &amp;amp; Jerry's in hand, and watched hours of my favorite movies and TV shows on DVD. It. Was. Bliss.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And the sad thing is, I'm excited about this weekend because I can go to the beach, play Sims all day, sleep in, and do all the fun things I couldn't do when I was studying :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now, don't get me wrong; I do have about one more year to go, and I still want to go to grad school. I plan on doing 18 credits starting in August, and I'm excited about my classes. But...it's not August yet!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Go, me. I rule.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i72.photobucket.com/albums/i198/kimsy520/dork-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-3720556158579228843?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/3720556158579228843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=3720556158579228843' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/3720556158579228843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/3720556158579228843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-am-queen-of-dorks.html' title='I am the Queen of Dorks!'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-8016688143950503872</id><published>2008-04-29T19:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T19:47:22.243-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck it.</title><content type='html'>I don't feel like reposting all my past posts.  I'm lazy.  They really didn't matter much, anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sooooo.....hang tight while I come up with some new posts :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-8016688143950503872?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/8016688143950503872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=8016688143950503872' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/8016688143950503872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/8016688143950503872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/04/fuck-it.html' title='Fuck it.'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-87867997896391204</id><published>2008-04-29T19:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T19:46:26.873-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You fail at advertising</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.cfaconway.com/img/sidebar_cow_eatmore.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.cfaconway.com/img/sidebar_cow_eatmore.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cfaconway.com/img/sidebar_cow_eatmore.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's right, I said it! This advertising icon right here is a hypocritical monster. But not for the reasons that you think. Sure, Mr. Cow thinks he's being soooooo cute with his horrible spelling and his intentional diversion from America's beloved hamburgers to delicious chicken. Oh, wait, I'm sorry...I mean "deelishus chikin." Much more appropriate, I'd say. BUT...Mr. Cow ain't so innocent!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ugh...before I go on, I have to say something: "Mr. Cow" is a misnomer. Cows are not male, they are female. I think the brains of CFA advertising are looking for the term "Bull." But I suppose "cow" is so much more pleasant than "bull." What is so wrong with "Ms. Cow?" Put a fucking bonnet and a wreath of posies around her neck and everyone's happy! Well...maybe just me. All right, you got me...I wouldn't be happy, just mildly satisfied.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Perhaps Mr. Cow doesn't realize (or maybe he doesn't care) that while CFA does not use beef products, they do use dairy products. That includes milk, ice cream, milkshakes, some of their sauces and dressings, and even the coating used to cook the chicken he promotes. CFA even has the nerve to promote milk as a healthy alternative to soft drinks (which aren't healthy either, but everyone knows that!), claiming "growing food for growing minds." Growing minds? I don't think so. If any of you are wondering what my beef is with dairy (pun intended), then &lt;a href="http://www.unhappycows.com/"&gt;just click here.&lt;/a&gt; I'm sure you'll find all the information you need.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, why does The Cow get all the glory? CFA also sells pork! Not only with their club sandwich (which has bacon), but also with their sausages and bacon served during breakfast. Why not have a Mr. Pig? (At least the name would be more accurate) He could join Mr. Cow on their ineffective crusade to spare their lives to eat their other barnyard buddies, the chickens, instead. So chickadees, watch your asses! Never, ever befriend a cow! Especially dyslexic cows who don't realize (or don't care) that their own family members are suffering for "deelishus" ranch dressing, milkshakes, and hand-breaded "chikin."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And there you have it. Mr. Cow, I sincerely and wholeheartedly dedicate this to you:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i120.photobucket.com/albums/o197/old_fool/fail/U_fail_at_life.png" border="0" /&gt;***disclaimer: Yes, I have made the switch back to vegetarianism, working on veganism. And yes, I am an advocate of choice. If you choose to drink milk, eat eggs, enjoy a hamburger, or throw chicken nuggets at the dorky CFA manager, that is your choice, and I respect that. Those are just choices I choose not to make for myself (besides, tossing mustard packets at the manager is more fun). Do not take this post as my hatred for omnivores; it is not. It is simply an observation of a ridiculous, unresearched advertising campaign of an otherwise fine eating establishment. Simple as that. But don't knock tempeh until you try it! Delicious. Yes, I am now allowed to spell "delicious" correctly, for I am actually talking about real whole food. Okay, end disclaimer. Take this information and use it wisely, my children. Never trust dyslexic cows!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-87867997896391204?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/87867997896391204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=87867997896391204' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/87867997896391204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/87867997896391204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/04/you-fail-at-advertising.html' title='You fail at advertising'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i120.photobucket.com/albums/o197/old_fool/fail/th_U_fail_at_life.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-6750232805808925878</id><published>2008-04-29T19:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T19:36:42.168-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quick Responses to Breeder Bingo</title><content type='html'>***Unbe-freaking-lievable. I so wish I could take credit for this. I enjoyed it very much, and I'm sure you will, too, so here it is! Oh, and for the breeders and breeder sympathizers who don't find it amusing, you know where the door is. Don't let it hit your bovine ass on the way out!***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is Breeder Bingo? Breeder Bingo means one of the "usual" phrases we hear over and over again from breeders, so much so that someone created a bingo-like card to use. As they say the dumb things to you, you cover the blocks on your card until you have Bingo!&lt;br /&gt;Just because someone says these things doesn't always mean they are a "breeder".  Sometimes they just don't understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breeder Bingo is also *anything* stupid breeders might say to us about having kids or our choice not to, or any dumb questions we get over and over again. Below are some examples. The next time a breeder starts shoveling this crap down your throat, here are some quick and sometimes witty responses you may want to use in an attempt to shut them up. I'll be adding more as I have a chance. Good luck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note: I did not create the breeder bingo card, or coin the phrase.  I don't know who did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a list of things we often hear from parents, and some quick and easy responses:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When are you going to have kids?&lt;br /&gt;--When I run out of better things to do.&lt;br /&gt;--When are you going to stop being so nosy?&lt;br /&gt;--Oh I'm too busy practicing. Maybe when I prefect my technique.&lt;br /&gt;--When are you going to lose weight?&lt;br /&gt;--When they come potty trained.&lt;br /&gt;--When minivans are sexy, childcare is free and they come with on/off switches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why don't you have kids?&lt;br /&gt;--I haven't run out of better things to do yet.&lt;br /&gt;--Why aren't you in law school? Oh, you don't want to be a lawyer? Well, I don't want to be a parent.&lt;br /&gt;--Because I'm still perfecting my technique.&lt;br /&gt;--Why don't you have manners?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's different when they're your own!&lt;br /&gt;--Yea, you can't give them back!&lt;br /&gt;--Yeah, its WORSE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My/Your child grow up to cure cancer!&lt;br /&gt;--It's more likely it would end up in jail!&lt;br /&gt;--Why don't you cure cancer instead of living vicariously through your own kid?&lt;br /&gt;--I'll bet Manson/Saddam/Bin Laden's parents said the same thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were a kid once, too!&lt;br /&gt;--So what's your point?   (Keep repeating this no matter what excuse they make until they realize they have no point)&lt;br /&gt;--And I grew out of that stage, too.&lt;br /&gt;--So was Hitler!&lt;br /&gt;--Yeah, and I didn't like kids then, either!&lt;br /&gt;--So were you, but that's not reason for your to continue acting like one.&lt;br /&gt;--Next, your going to tell me the Yankees play in The Bronx...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't you want to hear the pitter patter of little feet?&lt;br /&gt;--No.&lt;br /&gt;--If I wanted to hear that, I'd put booties on my dog/cat.&lt;br /&gt;--I do hear the pitter patter of little feet - dog/cat feet!&lt;br /&gt;--No. I prefer moaning, screaming and furniture breaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who will take care of you when you are old?&lt;br /&gt;--My pension plan that I've been investing in since I was 21.&lt;br /&gt;--The same people who will take care of you -- nursing home attendants.&lt;br /&gt;--Who says I plan to be old?&lt;br /&gt;--My 20-something lover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why'd you get married if you didn't want kids?&lt;br /&gt;--For the same reason people get divorced -- becuase they can!&lt;br /&gt;--Because I love my spouse and see them as more than a reproductive organ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only reason to get married is to have children!&lt;br /&gt;--You do realize that 50% of marriages end in divorce, right? Perhaps kids are the reason people get divorced, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some day you'll grow up and change your mind.&lt;br /&gt;--No, I'm perfectly happy with the one I have now.&lt;br /&gt;--Yea, that'll happen about the same time you grow up and change your mind, too!&lt;br /&gt;--Sorry, I don't plan on growing up!&lt;br /&gt;--And someday you'll get your head out of your ass. Good luck with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all worth it!&lt;br /&gt;--Good! Then I'll never have to listen to you complain about your kids or parenting responsibilities again!&lt;br /&gt;--What is this, a L'Oreal commercial?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You sound like a sad and bitter person!&lt;br /&gt;--Hey, you're the one criticizing other people's life choices!&lt;br /&gt;--I'll take sad and bitter if it means sleeping in on the weekends and having some piece and quiet at home! Sign me up!&lt;br /&gt;--So what's your point?&lt;br /&gt;--If you were so happy with your choices, you wouldn't be trying to make me feel bad by telling me I'm sad and bitter.&lt;br /&gt;--If I am, at least I'm not passing my anger and bitterness on to the next generation like you are!&lt;br /&gt;--That's "INTELLIGENT, sad and bitter." Get it right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If everyone thought the way you did, the population would die out!&lt;br /&gt;--Do you have any idea how many people there are on the planet right now?&lt;br /&gt;--You do realize that after you die, it doesn't really matter, so if there are no people left, it really doesn't affect you, right?&lt;br /&gt;--How is this a bad thing?&lt;br /&gt;--And?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If your mom felt like you do, you wouldn't be here!&lt;br /&gt;--No, but then you'd be arguing with her instead.&lt;br /&gt;--Right now I'm kinda wishing YOUR mom had felt like I do.&lt;br /&gt;--And I wouldn't have known the difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the most important job in the world!&lt;br /&gt;--Then why aren't you out doing it?&lt;br /&gt;--What about the guy who makes your disposable diapers and gigantic strollers -- you couldn't survive a day without him!&lt;br /&gt;--Oh, yeah...the "Leader of the Free World" has nothing on YOU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My kids are the best thing that ever happened to me.&lt;br /&gt;--Wow, that's a sad commentary on your life.&lt;br /&gt;--Gee, it's too bad you wasted all those years of your life being a child yourself since those years were just a waste of time until you got to your REAL purpose in life.&lt;br /&gt;--I am greatly insulted by this. Have we achieved nothing in the last 90 years? Women can achieve just as much and more in almost all the venues men can. 1920 called and it wants you to come back to the dark ages.&lt;br /&gt;--You're not giving yourself much credit.&lt;br /&gt;--Newsflash: Your kids are PEOPLE, not things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're being selfish!&lt;br /&gt;--Oh, because creating a human being to amuse yourself ISN'T selfish.&lt;br /&gt;--Jealous?&lt;br /&gt;--How is not creating a child who won't be neglected selfish?&lt;br /&gt;--I don't know, you're the one neglecting your kids while you waste time arguing with me. Some might argue that any time away from your kids is "selfish".&lt;br /&gt;--And?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Children are the future!!&lt;br /&gt;--Well, since most people seem to agree the future's fucked, why put them through the agony?&lt;br /&gt;--That's a scary thought, since most of them are idiots who can't learn spelling or grammar.&lt;br /&gt;--Thank you, Whitney Houston!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing is better than 'new baby' smell!&lt;br /&gt;--You mean the smell of vomit, urine, and feces?!&lt;br /&gt;--You really need to get out more.&lt;br /&gt;--Really? Let's see...umm...oh yeah...great, spontaneous sex that lasts for hours! (see "pitter-patter" answer for elaboration).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.happilychildfree.com/bingo.htm"&gt;http://www.happilychildfree.com/bingo.htm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-6750232805808925878?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/6750232805808925878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=6750232805808925878' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/6750232805808925878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/6750232805808925878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/04/quick-responses-to-breeder-bingo.html' title='Quick Responses to Breeder Bingo'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4110129937380779674.post-5591659001640422115</id><published>2008-04-29T19:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T19:22:08.059-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's do this again...</title><content type='html'>...I can honestly tell you that anyone with a quarter of a brain should know that I obviously don't completely win at life.  Nobody does.  With that said, I am using this opportunity to say that I ruined my previous blog.  I don't know how, and I don't really care.  I am using this blog to make a fresh start.  And I have taken the liberty of transferring my other posts from my other blog to this new one for you all to enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...I am going to cut the seriousness and issue my Royal Proclamation: I WIN AT LIFE!!  Most others assuredly fail at life, and...that's how it is :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4110129937380779674-5591659001640422115?l=antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/feeds/5591659001640422115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4110129937380779674&amp;postID=5591659001640422115' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/5591659001640422115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4110129937380779674/posts/default/5591659001640422115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antistatusquo8361.blogspot.com/2008/04/lets-do-this-again.html' title='Let&apos;s do this again...'/><author><name>the social deviant</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833893883758830111</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mXTo6Fkx0pk/SAPnYxeoVuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Y4NNCKV1BLo/S220/13+-+Copy+(9).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
