"There's a rant there."
My wife hears those words, and she knows she's in for an ear-full of utter bullshit, and she knows it's not going to end until I've run out of breath or she's told me to shut up. Usually the latter... mind you, she can have a good rant when she's in the mood, too. Anyway, this is today's rant:
American Idol. Yes, I'm aware that everybody has already had a jab at this one. In case you haven't guessed, it wasn't my first choice of viewing. Don't worry, I'm not about to bitch about the lack of talent. This is about a tearful comment uttered off stage by some bint who could barely string two syllables together, much less hold a tune.
"It's not fair."
Not fair? Well, I'm sure if Ozzy had two brain cells to rub together he'd wish that he could speak English as well as the foreign telemarketer who woke me up at ten o'clock last Saturday morning. I wish I was born with a twelve-inch cock (alas, I must make do with my eleven inches). Starving kids born into poverty overseas wish they had something to eat other than the carpet of flies crawling over their swollen stomachs. As far as I'm aware, I've not heard any of the above people bitch that it's "not fair." But no... this poor, poor girl thinks it unfair that a panel of judges didn't think she was star material.
Unlike me, Ozzy, and the starving kids (well, maybe not Ozzy... he had his shot before he annihilated every last neuron with drugs), she probably had a chance to practice before she wasted her fifteen minutes of fame whimpering like a child. There are people out there with real problems. If you want to bitch about something, make it something worthwhile... like this rant, for instance.
In all seriousness, nothing pisses me off more than listening to somebody bitch about something they have every ability to change. Take some fucking responsibility for your own shortcomings, or keep your goddamned mouth shut. If you've a real issue, I'll be the first to raise the eyebrow of sympathy before turning back to my keyboard. Otherwise you're likely to be found face-down on the floor with a biro jutting from the back of your head.
I leave you with the immortal words of Denis Leary on the topic of happiness:
"Nobody's happy, okay? Happiness comes in small doses. It's a cigarette, or a chocolate-chip cookie, or a five-second orgasm, that's it. You come, you eat the cookie, you smoke the butt, you go to sleep, you get up in the morning, and you go to fuckin' work!"
Amen.
-animus