The Nobel Committee. I'm too sputtery right now to even begin to tell them how I feel about that fucking insane lispotoid Gorezilla getting the fucking nobel peace prize when hasn't done DICK to bring 'peace' to this fucking world. as i said at the Swilling the fucking Abraham Lincoln carrier task force that responded immediately to the fucking tsunami brought a lot more peace and relief to people than Al fucking Gore. And the committee can really fuck the fuckity fuck off with lutefisk lubricant for this blatant fucking interference in our elections. FUCK YOU, THIS FUCKING ASSHOLE ALREADY LOST, YES FUCKING LOST AN ELECTION FOR PRESIDENT AND THEN PROCEEDED TO ACT IN THE MOST UNPRESIDENTIAL MANNER EVER SEEN BECAUSE HE AND ALL OF HIS FUCKING SUPPORTERS REFUSED TO ACCEPT THE IDEA THAT PEOPLE DIDN'T WANT HIS SORRY ASS IN THE WHITE HOUSE SO FUCK OFF ALREADY.

I gave up on taking that goddamm award seriously years ago. Now it's just become a fucking joke. What the FUCK? Al Fucking Gore? PEACE?

What Mr. Bingley said. Except, add in The Goreacle™ Himself, and the IPCC to boot.

Not to mention every single fucking envirotardic climate change alarming watermelon on the face of this tired old planet.

FUCK OFF WITH CHEESE ENCRUSTED KNOBS, YOU FUCKING FIDEL WANNABES.

And Emily.......God, I loathe people who buy cars as a penis (and sometimes backbone) substitute.

Well, I for one don't have one of those penismobiles. I have a Lesmobile.

And I got booted out of the club over it.

Ken,
Hehe. My first car was a Subaru. I never knew I was a lesbian. Good thing I didn't find that out before it was too late!

I sort of love that old battleaxe Doris Lessing who won the Lit prize who said she didn't give a damn. (or whatever she said)

I hope I can live long enough to make people very uncomfortable, too, when I ought to be the picture of grace and dignity.

Oh, wait...

My husband had a Lesbomobile™ long before before we met, too! It was great for his bikes and he loved the gas mileage and he never, ever worried about door dings. He sort of wants that car back. He did not understand the further implications until I showed him the list.

Emily, I feel your pain about the fucksticks on your street measuring their fucksticks on your street in their cars. Fucksticks. Grow up, you fucksticks.

Susanna,
That Subaru was a great car. I got it with over 100,000 miles on it and never had one damn problem with it. I kind of miss it. I would totally buy a Subaru again if I could afford it. But I guess I should worry about getting a girlfriend first. :P

And this racing incident is especially deplorable considering we just had a local incident a couple of days ago with a couple of guys doing the same thing that ended in gruesome death. Retards.

No fuck offs this week. I'm taking the GRE tomorrow and I need all the good karma I can generate. Everyone's lovely. Except for those who aren't.

Good luck, Cullen!

He has another Subaru right now (a racy, zippy one - not a wagon, or Lesbomobile™) that has 100K on it that has zero issues, too. Great cars. My issue with the zippy one is the zippiness, but I keep my yap shut. His love is, in particular, the zippiness. The good news is that he doesn't drive it like an asshole, though. He drives it responsibly.

Oh the fucksticks. Such idiots. As if there was a horrific and gory accident in the neighborhood recently, therefore they are immune for awhile from gory and deadly accidents? Fucksticks. Morons.

We have a bunch overindulged, entitled punks from Mexico City in our 'hood. Perhaps next week we'll get into that. Ay yi yi.

Do those Subarus come with the lesbians standard, or is that an option?

Cause lesbians and leather will pretty much seal the deal for me.

Best of luck, Cullen. I remember the GRE. Think of it as a game and that makes it a little easier to bear.

And...I guess I better warn my brother that his wife drives a lesbo-mobile. (And he bought it for her!)

Finally, my FFO:

A big, hearty, cheese-covered-and-filled FUCK OFF to people who shut down and stop functioning the moment that they are asked to use their poor widdle bwains. You are in effing COLLEGE for freak's sake. If you don't want to think, why are you here? If you really want to continue floating in your cozy little womb of ignorance, I recommend you drop out, and learn either of these sentences by heart:

1. Do you want fries with that?

or

2. Welcome to Wal-Mart. May I help you?

Because that's the trade-off in life: you want a good, decent paying job? You have to use the damn grey matter! Unless you know how to sleep your way to the top, or can play the fame-game like Britney or Paris, or get really lucky in the lottery (and considering that I tried to teach you about probability, you should be aware of just how unlikely that is), you are going to have to WORK for a living, if you want to eat something other than government cheese for the rest of your life.

Don't come to class and get all huffy and pissy because I'm asking you to do a damned Punnett square, or because I'm asking you to calculate a freaking average, or because I want you to formulate an opinion on something that is other than parroting what you heard on the damn Daily Show.

Look, there's research that shows that using your brain for, like, LOGIC may help prevent Alzheimer's. I worry greatly that many members of the up-and-coming generations will have checked into retirement homes - and checked out of having functional brains - by age 55. Thank God I'll be dead and won't be around to see it.

The Nobel committee can FO from here to eternity. ONLY A MINORITY OF NOBEL PEACE LAUREATES HAVE ACTUALLY EXPANDED PEACE. I blogged on this in 2002.

If Gore had nuked the IPCC, he still wouldn't deserve the Peace Prize - taking either side of the climate debate is as irrelevant to peace as Adam Sandler is irrelevant to nanotechnology research. Or Kissinger to fighting Communism.

Fingernails can fuck off. Why can't you little fuckers just stay the same maintenance free length?

This FFO is a joint one. Earlier this week, I had to make about a 100 mile drive on business. About 20 miles into it, I found myself waving my fist and sputtering like Donald Duck at the driver who tailgated me (IN THE SLOW LANE) and cut me off. I thought "Jesus, I need to control my temper". About 50 miles later, another driver did the same thing and I found myself cursing the a$$hole.

So FTFO to the people who tailgate me in the slow lane in traffic (with knobs on for the ones who did it this morning in the rain), and to me for my inability to control my temper.

Mike

Amen, Ricki. Amen!

And best of Luck, Cullen! GRE is tough, but I'm sure you'll do fine!

I have a list today:
1. algore. May he rot in hell. Kind of sad to see the Nobel academy honor his pseudoscience equivalently with the great Oliver Smithies. Of course, knowing who the LAST American PP winner is helps (Jimmuh)
2. Turkey. With Festering corpuscles of rotten moldy pus all over their collective bodies. I'd say all over their genitalia, but clearly the Turks have no balls otherwise they would have acknowledged the Genocide decades ago.
3. Honorary Turk George Bush. I get why he's blocking the resolution (timing is everything, right?) but FUCK YOU buddy. It's time somebody told the fucking truth.
4. My workplace. I am UNMOTIVATED. Look me up in the dictionary under "low morale". I guaran-fuckin'-tee you'll see my picture. I go out of MY WAY to do thing for this university. I sit on more fucking committees than any other Assistant Professor I know. I hold students' hands when they cry. I take my fucking job home every night and I pitch in on EVERY FUCKING project that I get asked to take on.

And yet I have to sit in an office with NO furniture. My students get to see how I get treated around here. That sucks.
5. While we're on the subject, my students can go eat an asspie, too. Wake the fuck up you morons. USE YOUR BRAINS. I am about to start handing out LOGIC PUZZLES and MURDER MYSTERIES as BRAIN EXERCISES. FOR GRADES IN A BIOLOGY CLASS. I already had to give you a FUCKING QUIZ TO ILLUSTRATE THAT YOU CAN NOT READ DIRECTIONS. AND YOU MOTHERFUCKERS WANT TO BE DOCTORS?????? Something has fucking got to give....

I forgot one: the asslicking twatwaffles who have decided it's "kill little kids and their moms during street races or road rage or whatever" week in LA can fuck off and die with shards of glass embedded in their eyeballs, while standing under a stream of acid and looking up. Prison rape is too good for you, you murdering fucks.

Subarus--Noooooo!!!!! Is this why men aren't calling me for a second date after they walk me to my car??? (The last guy even acted impressed when he saw it--and he barely acknowledged my thanks-for-drinks e-mail!) You don't understand! My parents bought a used sedan when I was in college and I learned to drive on it. My sister and I retired it with 130K+ miles on it. The first one I owned, saved my head from being bashed in when a giant metal tool box fell off a flatbed onto my roof. I can't drive anything else; I might die. You know what? I don't care. I love my Legacy sedan. My parents both drive Subarus (but not Outbacks--is it only the Outbacks that qualify?). Anyone with half a brain can tell I likes the fellers. No offense to Bitter (or to lesbian ladies for that matter) but that notion can just fuck the fuck off and go back to wherever it came from.

Of course, if it weren't for this stuff, I wouldn't have had a FO. I'm too tired, courtesy of last week's FO's.

Val, let me know on those equipment options; that would seal it for me as well.

For some reason, Val's comment reminded me of the old joke, "Why don't witches wear underpants?"
(A: Better grip on the broomstick.)

:-)

Oh, and double FTFO to the "EBM" drivers (Everybody But Me, as in "the laws are for everybody but me") who zippitydoodah in and out of the freeway lanes at 85MPH without a turnsignal and with barely a car-length of space available in the lane they move into. I must admit that, after pointing to my head and giving them the "crazy" sign, I keep track of them in traffic in case they 10-50 (yes, I watch too many Sheriff John Bunnell show), so I can tell the cops what a stickshit they are.

And one more FTFO, to people who are having a bad day and insist on taking it out on me: May you be assigned to Smiley Face Hell when you die.

("Crocodile Dundee" accent on)

"Have a nice day."

(accent off)

Julie, can we also send the people who exhort others (who may be walking down the hall, deep in thought, and thus not conscious of their facial expression) to "SMILE!!!" to "smiley-face hell"?

(I had one student who used to do that to me a lot until I made a vague rumble about sexual harrassment. I felt kind of dirty doing that but at least he left me alone)

They could be the assistant demons...the ones who torture the take-it-out-on-others folks.

Because, why the hell should I have to smile for someone on command? I'm not a trained dog; he is not going to give me a biscuit. Maybe I'm solving the problems of the world over here, and his stupid interruption made me lose my train of thought.

Ricki,

Any time I smile, it's creepy, but I had an extra creepy smile for those folks who demanded I smile. Every time I'd see them, I'd paste it on and glare at them until they finally asked me to stop. I hated that shit. If you want to see my smile so bad, fall down a flight of stairs or something entertaining.

Ricki,
Hell yes. Throw them in.
And the people who greet you with "Man, you look AWFUL! What's wrong?" when you were actually having a pretty good day... until then.

Ugh. Super-giddy "smile, why dontcha?" people piss me off. No. If I wanted to smile, I would be smiling, asshole. Not everybody likes being all sunshine all the time. But they are nowhere near as torturous as the bad day people. Fuck off. Having a bad day does not entitle you to be a rude mofo to everyone around you.

And people who think having short tempers should excuse them from being an asshole. No. You are a grown human being. If you cannot learn to control your emotions, then get therapy or take a fucking pill. Having a bad temper does not mean you get to treat everyone like shit and be forgiven for it because you don't think you should have to resist caving in to your anger. Fuck you.

Julie and Ricki--smiley face hell is making me laugh so hard. Glamour magazine may be vapid but they have a funny feature called, "Hey, it's O.K. ..." followed by a list. I saved the list with ". . . to be seriously annoyed when people tell you to smile. What are you, a doll?"

Wasn't it Marge Simpson who said her mom told her to smile so everybody would know what a good mommy she had? And then she sent Lisa to school with a smile plastered on her face, which made some classmate say something like, "Hey, you're all right for a nerdy kid--wanna do my homework for me?"

(Marge wound up yanking Lisa back in the car and telling her it was o.k. to be sad sometimes. One of my favorite episodes ever.)

My ex had two buttons I liked. One was a :-| face that said "Have a day."
The other said, "Have a nice day elsewhere."
That fit him pretty well, actually.

Heh. Have the day of your preference!

I'm afraid that today, I have to ftfo. I broke a tooth years ago. Didn't get it taken care of because of 1. being piss-poor and 2. being lazy (#2, you'll notice, tends to cause #1). Finally had to have the remains of the thing dug out from under the gumline on Tuesday. Now I'm taking pills four times a day and my face feels kicked. Serves me right.

NF,
Look on the bright side. I'll bet Ryan Kesler's face feels worse.

Which reminds me. The Philly Flyers can Fuck OFF. What's with all the Broad Street Bully revival crap?

'Fly, try warm salted water. It helps irrigate and relieve pressure.

My son feels your pain, 'Fly. He had two teeth (one a molar!) pulled yesterday.

Popeye's can FOAD. I am sick with a cold and all morning long I was dreaming of their crawfish etoufee, nice and hot (and spicy!) -- just the thing for a stuffy nose. But they don't MAKE it anymore and I had to settle for stupid red beans and rice. Fuck that. And fuck you, Popeye's.

Oh, those "Smile" people can seriously can go fuck themselves with rusty chainsaws.

I know some "wall of nice" smiling fucker people. You know the ones. They greet you with the cheery, daisy-infested, Hallmark-candle-stink, wall of niceties. Only to later be the ones shattering their bizarro collection of carnival assclowns (http://www.spoogeworld.com/images/assclown.jpg) in a psychotic rage in the backyard.

Fuck em. Don't tell me to smile. I will when I HAVE SOMETHING TO SMILE ABOUT. Don't greet the world with a wall of nice. Be normal you clowns. Ass clowns.

'Fly, try warm salted water. It helps irrigate and relieve pressure.

So does Jim Beam, and it tastes better. Toothaches can FOAD in general.

So can Vaginaclot at the next desk. Just because you hate your new hire, you assign him to projects that have been dying for years. If you'd put someone with actual ability selling those, maybe we could resurrect them. But no, you've got to save them for your little fucking revenge games. Just as you've done with every male employed in your department as long as you've been running it. And you wonder why they never last more than a couple of months, under your barrage of ball-kicking. Fuck you, once for treating your employees like shit and twice for the money the rest of the company won't make when those projects crash and burn once again. But hey, what the hell, your little girls' club will be intact.

Oh, and this bitter bitch can fuck off as well. For all the money that women's programs get, is it too much to ask that you don't piss and moan if men's programs get a little money that you wouldn't have had anyway? And I'm sorry, but anger management classes at the women's center aren't going to address the problems of men who are abused by their wives or alienated from their kids, however much your little uterofascist mind thinks they ought to.

No wonder you always get left to the side of the plate, Colleen.

Love that lady, Joel. "How many men are victims of violence?" She asks that like it's a rhetorical friggin' question with an obvious answer.

Um...quite a fucking lot, lady.

And "uterofascist" is an awesome word.

Perhaps women centre mouthpiece Colleen can drag race Subaru for $?

This motherfucker of a week can fuck off. Any little thing that can run up the crack of my ass and piss me off has done precisely that, and twice. I've holed myself up in my house, in the desperate hope that this week from hell cannot find me.

Specifically: My manager, who said three people can go on vacation the same time he does? Yeah, he can fuck off.

Insane work weeks? They can fuck off. Being salaried on these insane weeks? Buttfucking Owlshit, and it can fuck off. Seriously, if I sat down to figure out what I made on an hourly basis, given my weekly salary, this week alone, I'd probably cry.

Strep Throat Tests? This little piece of medical bullshit can fuck the fuck off. I know there are worse medical procedures, but given that my throat felt like I had swallowed a mason jar full of crumbled glass, the only way a 10-inch cotton swab to the throat would have been more unpleasant would be if my doctor had punched me in the balls.

But he didn't do that. So I got that goin' for me.

"How many men are victims of violence?" She asks that like it's a rhetorical friggin' question with an obvious answer.

To her, it is. "Well, if you wouldn't have hit her bat so hard with your head, you wouldn't have to go to jail."

Students that actually do not get 1 question right on a 25 question exam can FOAD. (At least I had the ability of a machine to grade said exam made it easier for me...) It would have been easier if you just tried to pay attention maybe once in a while. The fucking exam is based on a 6th grade students reading level, and you still can't get the words right? Oh for fucks sake. It might be eventually easier to pluck out both of your eyes, then you might have a better fucking excuse instead of your pitiful fucking "I thought that it just was a quiz" piece of festering horseshit one. By Allah, you actually did better on your quizzes than the exam you fucking fucktard, abortion reject, so don't give me that bullshit again...

Also, this week just blew donkey balls anyway!

Joel,
I was a journalism student at one point. I would really like to use the "skills" I learned during that time to expose the fact that men are a greater target of abuse and blatant exploitation than women. Because I'm a woman and I can almost get away with it. I should be careful, though. I might be accused of being a Subaru driver if I'm too aggressive.

To the music radio program directors who think that playing 5 or 10 second bits from my favourite songs as a tease and then play a fucking REM song will make me listen to their fuckin' radio stations Fuck you and the Cars song you rode in on.

colin,
I abso-fucking-lutely HATE the little "these are the songs we play" montages that radio stations make up. They're supposed to be teasers to lure in new listeners, but hey, guys? Yeah. How 'bout you not irritate the fuck out of the listeners you already have by doing shit like that? I know what songs you play. I don't need the fucking teaser montage. The one guaranteed way to make me change the station is that fucking montage.