The Perfect Squares: Episode 1

Because the hate can't be contained on this blog, I've started podcasting.

I've known one of my best friends, Lizzy, since we were like 7 years old. We hated each other, then adored each other, and now I think she's just kind of indifferent. But we teamed up to start something that we're calling "The Perfect Squares".

Go listen. Now. Then come back and tell me what you hate about it!

CLICK ME!

Delivery!

And now for something completely different...


This is why I will not be ordering take-out again: A friend wanted Indian. Since my meals revolve around how much food I am going to attempt to stuff my face with and then feel guilty about later, I try to eat things that don't tempt me.I'm not going to binge on curry and naan so that was fine with me. Tiny nibbles of bread. Spoonful of curry. That would be it for me. Sounded like a plan.


We had to order a $20.00 minimum to get it delivered AND there was a delivery fee. FUCK THAT. So we decided that if there was a minimum + a delivery fee we shouldn't have to tip as well. We are poor. So my friend goes to get the food. The weird delivery guy starts yelling "No Tip?" as he goes to close the door. Friend doesn't even have any cash because he paid with his card. He's like "Sorry" and tries to close the door. Delivery guy FORCES the door open and is like "NO TIP NO TIP!" Fucking douche. Friend runs away with food.


I, of course, being hopped up with anger/indignation from having too much caffeine, call the Indian restaurant and pretend that I was the person who answered the door and that this guy intimidated and scared me and that I would have tipped him if he wasn't scary about it and if I hadn't been confused about the delivery fee. I am SUCH A LIAR. She's like "OK, I'll talk to him." And I'm like "Tell him I would have tipped him but I was confused!!!" Click.


My friend proceeds to tell me I'm an idiot because this guy knows where we live AND has my cell number. We both wonder if this was grounds for him getting fired (anyone see that ridiculous Seinfeld episode with George and the Busboy?). Delivery guys are easy to replace. Not even 30 minutes later I GET A CALL ON MY CELL FROM THE DELIVERY GUY!!!! AAAH. I answer, hear muffled noises, and then he hangs up. Crazy.


Clearly this is a sign from a higher power that I should not be eating outside food or venturing outdoors as this crazy guy could be waiting for me at any moment.


You shouldn't get take out either. He might be reading my blog and target us all.

Lesson Learned.

Sometimes I think people need to be taught a lesson.

Here’s an example. I’m in college, sitting in the library, hoping that by being in that space, I’ll somehow absorb knowledge via osmosis. This never happened by the way. I hate the library, but that’s another story.

So I’m in the library at a study cubicle making little paper people to have little paper people wars. The person next to me stands up to walk a book back to the other room. He has left his laptop unattended!

My eyes dart to the multiple printed signs (with bad Microsoft Word 1997 clip art to help get the point across) that warn people not to leave their computers alone for theft reasons.

Instead of thinking to myself, “Wow, I better not go anywhere and make sure this guy’s laptop doesn’t get stolen by a less honest and kind person like myself”, my mind immediately goes to the following:

“Wow, what a stupid idiot. Who just leaves their laptop and goes into the other room and expects that nothing’s going to happen? This guy obviously needs to be taught a lesson about needlessly trusting the world and random people like me.”

Then, I create this elaborate heist plot where I take this guy’s laptop and hide it somewhere in the library. I don’t actually want to steal it… that would be wrong. But this guy needs to learn that if he walks away from his computer, he has no right to assume it will be there when he returns.

A similar incident happened the other day. I was out with friends and we were driving home after a night out. We stopped at a grocery store to use the necessary facilities. A small clerk gestured to the back of the room, toward the bathrooms. Before I entered, however, I saw a giant stack of bread loaves, just sitting there. A thought occurred to me, “No one is watching these!” I thought I should teach the store a lesson about leaving loaves of bread in conspicuous places where people like me might decide to take them, or even worse, eat them in the bathroom.

So consequently, I’m constantly bombarded with thoughts to take some dumb guy’s fixed gear bike (stupid Hipsters… don’t worry, you’ll soon be treated with my opinion on that topic) while I’m at a coffee shop. Once I thought about pouring something into a guy’s drink when he wasn’t looking so he would learn that girls aren’t always virtuous. Unfortunately, I would have had to substitute the date rape drug with a sugar packet because I don’t keep the former handy.

The point is you shouldn’t trust me. At all. In my defense, I’ve never actually acted on any of these impulsive desires. Just to be save though, don’t assume I’ll watch your purse.

I didn't write this on an iPad.

I’m at the airport right now. Well, when you read this, I will no longer be at the airport. I’ll probably be passed out on the couch. Hopefully I’m not dead. Will you please call my house? I’m worried about myself.

Anyway, I’m here at the airport and every single time, EVERY SINGLE TIME, I say the same thing to myself: Why is that woman wearing her stiletto boots for her obviously pathetic trip to Butt-fuck-middle-of-nowhere Tennessee. Man she looks fancy. You aren’t impressing anyone lady. In fact, I think I might roll my suitcase a little bit into the aisle in hopes of tripping you over, just so I should say “Ooops! Better wear your Dr. Scholl’s next time!”

Oh hey!? What’s that!? Your fancy iPad!? I can do that too. Let me just pull out this maxi sanitary napkin and pretend to push buttons like I’m important. I know you’re playing Angry Birds. It’s an overrated game. Also my sanitary napkin cost me 50 cents in the public bathroom and it’s actually useful for something.
People are so stupid. And I never realize this more than when I’m at the airport. People always tell me, “Oh I love traveling and going to different places.” No you don’t. No one likes the airport. If you do, you’re obviously a serial killer. My logic is sound.

The airport is a really expensive bus terminal. It’s public transportation. And we’re paying to sit next to a smelly weirdo-beardo who is going to mouth breathe during the entire flight. Or the guy who just HAD to bring his McDonald’s McRiblet on the flight because he can’t wait another two hours to eat. He had to find the smelliest thing on the menu, “Oh yeah? Garlic tuna with curry? That sounds awesome. I’ll get two orders!”

I swear, there’s always a baby who is so obviously sick that I worry I might be exposed to some sort of antibiotic resistant bacteria (by the way, anyone see that story about that killer germ that they found on the BART? Way to go Bay Area. I blame the hippies. Stupid pinkos.).

I’m watching two stupid women pace back and forth in their dumb heels. One of them isn’t even dressed to wear them. Beret, sweatpants, and slingback heels? Ok I think I understand, you’re obviously making some sort of political statement. Maybe it’s performance art? It’s deep and moving. My apologies.

But for the rest of you, stop wearing impractical footwear that I’m convinced sucks the soul out of you.

I hate women who wear heels to the airport.