Top 10 Things I Hate More Than Anything Else

#10: Nature

I’ll probably get a lot of hate for including this in my post because the world is full of freaks and nut jobs who apparently enjoy things like camping, travelling, and the not-so-great outdoors.

They are a fucking mystery to me.

But hey, don’t hate on me. It just means there’s more nature for you because I don’t want any. Enjoy.

#9: Astronomy

As you can see from the above gallery of screenshots, astronomy related news tends to be what I consider among the most captivating.

Seriously, pattern on surface of something looks like Morse Code?

Might as well report on a giant cloud in the sky shaped like a middle finger.

Whack me off harder.

I have no fucking idea why so much money is poured into the space program just so we can take boring pictures of planets a lot less exciting than the one we are all currently inhabiting.

#8: Sports


The above comic perfectly encapsulates my feelings on sports and how utterly ridiculous I find the level of excitement that throwing, catching, kicking or sucking on a ball of some kind seems to elicit from giant hoards of people.

Oh, by the way…I would have included “people” as the number #1 item on this list, but how can I expect any of them to read this garbage if I tell them I hate them?

#7: Hot Weather

I literally don’t understand people who survive living in fucked up places like Texas or Florida.

I literally can’t visit places like these because I won’t make it back alive.

Despite being of Spanish and Sicilian descent, my body somehow seems unable to fucking function in temperatures greater than 75 degrees Fahrenheit.

#6: Insects

Thank the gods that I was lucky enough to be born in probably the least disgusting region of the world when it comes to insect life.

Not to say that I don’t still find the insects here fucking disgusting, but like…at least we don’t have otherworldly level of centipede life forms.

Because the bugs and creepy crawlers here in the Pacific Northwest already have more legs than any living creature should ever end up with.

Seriously, if I ever saw anything like the grotesque freak of nature seen above, I would projectile vomit my soul all over it.

#5: Reality TV


I considered making this less specific, since I basically hate TV in general.

But since I do enjoy a very small number of TV shows (Breaking Bad and Shameless come to mind), it made more sense to hone in on the specific type of trash I abhor most.

Although on a conceptual level, it’s pretty hard to say which I hate more: Keeping up With the Kardashians or Ancient Aliens (the latter not even being a reality show).

TV has become the most obnoxious and mind numbing pile of shit that people happily spoon feed themselves and I will never understand the level of dissatisfaction with life that must lead them to such extremes.

#4: Math

8f2d4ae2bc377ff3ac7cb74c5f5efefcI’ve always had a theory that people tend to enjoy those things which come naturally to them and at which they naturally excel.

This is probably why I HATE math, because I suck at it.

However, there are a lot of things I will not do in this life due to my sheer incompetence. Space travel, rocket science and politics being a few noteworthy examples.

Add math to that list and rest assured that I do not feel like I’m missing out on anything as a result of avoiding these things.

#3: Country Music

When it comes to music, my taste is about as diverse as it could possibly be.

Apparently a little too diverse for the shared gene pool responsible for the genre of country music.

I mean, sure…you could argue that while every country song seems to be about the glorification of small town farm life and the subsequent sexual attraction to tractors, every rap song is essentially about money and bitches.

I guess I just prefer money and bitches to sex with tractors or trucks.

Maybe I’m the weird one?

#2: Children


Okay, this one will get the most hate.

Sorry if you find it offensive that I absolutely can’t stand children, but at least I’m doing my part by making sure I never bring any into the world.

And fuck everyone else for having so many. I’m glad your life experience has been so utterly fantastic that you feel compelled to bring someone into the world without asking them if they even want to be here, but like…

I’m just not enough of an asshole to do that.

But in all seriousness, I am basically ashamed to come from a country that touts breeding as some kind of basic human right and encourages all people (regardless of ability to care for) to do so irresponsibly.

In a civilized society, breeding should NOT be considered a right, but rather a serious responsibility.

#1: “Smart” Phones

I have to be careful with this item because I could literally rant about the stupidity of smartphone design until they are replaced by something somehow even stupider.

So I’ll just let you watch the video above from The Onion which perfectly conveys my feelings on these pieces of shit better than my endless bull shit will.

Plus, it’s way more entertaining.

While this may be an unpopular opinion, just remember that banning slavery also was at some point in history and it took way longer than it should for most of us to agree that the world was indeed not flat.

My Feelings on Copyright & Intellectual Property

I consider myself a creative individual, but my feelings on copyright and intellectual property are somewhat complex and I’ll admit that, if anything, I lean toward a worldview of equal accessibility to all forms of media.


By “media,” I mean everything from films and books to artwork and music.

I suppose it’s important to disclose that I value respect more than money.

I feel that equal access to the creative works produced by mankind is ultimately a benefit to all, as a collective whole.

Increased access leads to increases in reactions, feedback, conversations, inspiration, derivative works, ideas and personal enrichment.


To me, these combined benefits usually outweigh the importance of one or a few people becoming rich by restricting access to their creations.

To be clear, I am certainly NOT saying that artists, musicians, authors and actors shouldn’t be compensated for their creative contributions.

A Hypothetically Starving Artist

For example, if a painter creates an original piece of artwork then they have every right to sell that painting to another person if they so choose.

BUT – the implications of this are pretty obvious.

In the case of selling it to someone who wants to hang it on their wall, the two people negotiate a price and the deal is done.

They won’t get paid again for that painting because it has already been sold to a new owner.

Since it was a new and original work, the sold painting is the only one that exists at this point.

But since our artist was starving (not stupid), let’s assume that he took some photos of the painting before selling it and posted them online for others to see.

Otherwise, it becomes a very real possibility that the buyer may be the last and only other human being who ever sees the painting at all.

Maybe it hangs on the new owner’s wall for the next few decades before both are completely destroyed in some natural disaster.

Had the artist not taken photos of it, the art would then be lost forever.

And I think we can all agree on what a shame that would be!

I tend to think this is ALSO fine for the buyer to do as well.

After all, he loved the painting so much that he bought it.

I’d like to think that any two people who create and appreciate these things enough to have made any such transaction would also be the kind who want to share its beauty with the rest of the world.

So I see absolutely nothing wrong with the buyer taking some photos of his new painting and posting them online for others to see.

Now that we know what I am okay with, let’s make it clear what I find unacceptable.

Stealing Something You Paid For

It would NOT be okay (in my mind) for the buyer to take photos of his new painting and then claim to have created it himself.

Under no circumstances would that be okay with me.

THAT is theft, even though he paid the real artist. It doesn’t matter.

Stealing it outright in the absence of permission or compensation would obviously be theft as well.

Both of those scenarios suck…but assuming our artist had still taken photos, then the second crook is guilty of the lesser crime.

At least as far as I’m concerned.

In the first scenario, the artist is paid with money and then robbed of credit and denied respect.

I can only speak for myself, but credit and respect are way more important to me than cash ever has been.

I also don’t think that it’s acceptable for the new owner to take photos of the painting and then sell them to other people.

If he wants to charge money, I believe he should have to sell the actual painting to someone else.

The artist, however, wouldn’t be doing anything wrong by charging others for copies or reproductions of the work if he wanted to.

You see, I have much less of a problem with people selling their creative work than I do with denying others access to them in the absence of money.

I’m fine with people getting paid for the things they create.

But if we lived in world where artists were paid for their work, it would be much harder to explain why they are so often starving.

Cool Story, Bro

In reality, most of us need some kind of day job or supplementary career to live comfortably.

And you know what? There is nothing at all wrong with that.

Bits and pieces of my own original work have been included in the work of others, sometimes after asking for permission and others under the assumption of fair use.

Do I get upset if I’m not asked first? No.

Would I be upset if I wasn’t credited? Mildly.

Happiness A to Z The Gleeful Guide to Finding and Following Your Bliss Louise Baxter Harmon June Cotner 9781632280077 BooksReal life example: a quick Amazon search turned up this book, which is very ironically a collection of quotes centered around the topic of happiness (you know, me being the cheery, optimistic type and all).

Now I know what Tom Hanks and I have in common.

While a lot of people will probably guess things like how much money we make or the number of awards we have won, it is actually neither.

(He is also not as sarcastic as I am).

It turns out, the only thing we have in common is that we are both quoted on page 116 of this book.

Pirates Are Cool Too!

Most people will probably think it’s kind of ass backwards for me to be as enthusiastic about a concept like Kickstarter as I am about The Pirate Bay.

But I totally am.

Being the broke asshole I’ve kind of always been, I frequently download torrents if there is a film I would like to watch or a software I could find a lot of use for.

I don’t lose any sleep over this because at the end of the day, I simply do not have the money to pay for these things even if I wanted to.

Now, you should probably take everything I say with a grain of salt since we have clearly established that I do NOT get paid a Tom Hanks salary.

You may think THAT is the real reason I feel the way I do about this stuff.

Perhaps you’re right.

I may feel differently if I was as rich as Tom Hanks, and then suddenly encountered some financial threat to a level of wealth I had grown accustomed to.

But I’m pretty sure after nearly 29 years of living the way I have, it would just seem like returning from a bizarre vacation or waking up from a dream.

Yeah, I’m weird.


The moral of the story is this: if you have the money and can afford to buy one of my books, that’s fantastic. I appreciate every dollar.

And if you can’t afford it or don’t have the money but still would like to read something I’ve written, just email me and ask for it.

16 Reasons Why Being a 90s Kid Was Awesome

Since I’m the only living 90s kid who doesn’t currently write shit for fucking Buzzfeed, I figured I had better make my own list of childhood nostalgia in their characteristically lazy and sparse style.

I feel like I should add a disclaimer making it clear that I am in no way certain of whether I actually thought growing up in the 90s was as spectacular as I make it sound, or if I just hate being an adult so much that it seems that way.

Hopefully that grain of salt is big enough to keep you from falling head first into this toilet of a list post.


The Disney Renaissance

The greatest animated films ever made by Disney came out during my childhood.

Younger generations are lucky since they can appreciate them after the fact, but I lived through it, motherfucker.

Might not seem important to you, but like…I literally knew nothing else as a child.

I just grew up with the absolute best without even realizing how awesome it was.

Gel Pens

Hell yes.

You have absolutely NOT forgotten how important it was for you to have a brand new set of these before the school year started, am I right?

Lisa Fucking Frank

981583c6c7ba3a6e4a7e5d755e69c6d0You know exactly what I’m talking about.

You had the folders, the notebooks, the planners, the posters.

The whole shebang.

Enough said.

 The Pink Barbie Corvette


Cruising up and down your driveway until you had to recharge the batteries.

You were a pimp then, you’re a pimp now!



Sure, technically barbies have been around a lot longer than since the 90s.

But we all know that it was the best decade for barbies, so don’t try to deny it.



These were sooo good and I have no idea why they stopped making them.

They were like little cookies you dipped into a perfect, gritty frosting.

Jelly Shoes


They broke all the time and they literally murdered your feet, but seriously?

They were sparkly and oh so awesome.

Fluffy Pens


Okay, so maybe Clueless was responsible for starting this whole thing.

In case you hadn’t noticed, pens were taken pretty seriously in the 90s.

And what better way to say serious than adding some pink fluff?

Polly Pocket


No one could compete with Barbie, but there was just something ridiculously delightful about the sheer tininess of Polly Pocket and her little collectible worlds.

Disney Everything

d2099352cbbf067a7b62b51ff8d26144I tried to tell you what a big deal this was!

We’re talking the lunchbox, the sheets and comforter with pillowcases, wall decals, birthday cakes, shoes, clothes, cups and dishes, backpacks, hair accessories and we’ve only scratched the surface.



It was everywhere and in absolutely everything.

There isn’t a single 90s lip gloss or other cosmetic that does not contain absurd amounts of fucking glitter.

What can I say, it was a motherfuckin’ sparkly decade.

Squeeze Its


These need no introduction.

Why oh why did they even stop making these fucking things?

The Kool-Aid knockoffs just don’t cut it.

Being a Campfire Girl


Screw the Girl Scouts. I was a Campfire Girl, bitches!

It was co-ed and way cooler.

I had a vest with all the damn badges, I think it’s still somewhere in my boxes at my parent’s house.

But for the most part, all I remember is meeting once a week after school at our leader’s house and doing fun stuff.

Bunk Beds With a Slide


Mine looked cooler and not as boring.

The slide was bright red and seemed bigger than this one looks in the photo.

Anyhow, it was awesome and I miss sliding down it in the morning back when I used to actually get out of bed each day.

Free AOL Discs

AHE3H8 A collection of AOL cd roms


This one will be lost on anyone younger than me, but back in the day we did not have smartphones with unlimited data plans.

In fact, we didn’t even have any kind of data plan on our old ass flip cell phones with the antennas you still had to pull out to get reception.

Hence, the AOL free trial discs were actually pretty handy.

They weren’t kidding about 1000+ hours free either. Every time my mom used to call to cancel the trial before they started billing us, they just extended the free trial another month or longer.

They obviously didn’t give two fucks.

This was back in the dark ages of dial-up internet, but with one of these silly discs you could literally pop it into any PC and setup a new trial account and get online in a few minutes (if you were willing to tie up your landline, that is).

So it’s probably good that they were literally fucking EVERYWHERE.

They handed these things out like they were napkins or something. They basically put little containers of them on the counter at like every business ever and invited you to just take them, so there was no shortage when you needed one.

The Motherfuckin’ Spice Girls


Boy bands are for pussies and queers.

Two words for you fags: GIRL POWER!

Embarrassing fact: SpiceWorld is the only VHS tape I ever watched enough times to warp and I had to buy a new copy to replace my first one.

Ask Me Anything About Love and Sex


I recently discovered this interesting site with what appears to be truth or dare style questions to use in a group, or as writing prompts (which is what I did, since I have no real life friends).

Prepare to learn a lot more about me than you probably bargained for, LOL!

Warning: the following content is of an explicit nature.


I am not sure that I’ve ever fallen in love at the first sight of someone, but it certainly tends to happen rather fast. I’d say in the span of a single night has been fairly common, if the interactions are right.

Unfortunately, love is deeper than what the eye finds appealing. So no, I don’t really believe you can fall into true love the first time you lay eyes on a person.


This answer is obviously based only on my own experiences, so your mileage may vary.

I prefer threesomes with someone I am familiar with and another guy who I’m less close to and don’t know as well.

Or two total strangers, that’s good too.

Basically, as long as there are multiple dicks involved and I’m the only female to keep them busy, I’m pretty much happy.


The answer to this is overly complicated.

Originally, I would have said no. I’m not the type of person who puts weight into traditions or ceremonies, quite honestly.

What matters to me is the relationship I have with someone and marriage really doesn’t add any strength to that by itself.

Then I dated Kevin for on and off for a few years beginning around the time I had just turned eighteen.

I suppose he was my first real romance of a grown-up kind.

He asked me to marry him. I said yes.

He asked me again later. I said yes again.

It never happened.

Clearly, he had some serious issues or just didn’t take marriage proposals very seriously I guess.

In either case, being young and stupid I decided it must mean something was wrong with me. I was somehow not good enough to marry, though I couldn’t really figure out what I was lacking.

Today I know better. I know it was his thing and not mine.

But unfortunately, that was enough to convince me that whoever I ended up with after him was going to have to marry me.

Just to prove something.

Just to confirm that I was good enough to marry.

Wouldn’t it figure that I ended up marrying the biggest jackass on the entire planet. I can’t stand him. I don’t even view him as human, that’s how bad it is.

I guess that serves me right for allowing my own belief system to be dictated by some retarded ass complex I picked up from an ex.

Needless to say, I’m separated from my “husband,” not that we ever really lived together or anything.

I would never get married again, let’s leave it at that.


In the back of a church parking lot.

I was on a long road trip and ran into snow on the freeway, so I had to pull over in Ashland, OR and stay put for a few.

It was late and nothing was fucking open and I had to pee and change my tampon.

I imagine God, if he exists, has forgiven me.


I used to grab my husband’s crotch as we walked down the street in broad daylight, just to see him blush and get all flustered.

Hopefully that answers the question.


I know I am in love when my thoughts throughout the day are all centered around a certain person and everything I get excited about is something I want them to be a part of, hopefully.

I know I am in love when someone’s happiness and well being becomes more important to me than my own.


Oh, a few likely candidates might be:

1) Gangbangs
2) Deepthroat, face fucking
3) Fucking machines
4) Fisting


My wildest sexual fantasy is probably either the one in which I get dropped into a prison yard full of sex-starved criminals who proceed to run a train on me or the one where I get pulled over by a hot cop and he radios over to a few of his buddies on duty and they all gangbang me instead of writing me a ticket.

Long Island Serial Killer Case is an Absolute Disgrace

long island serial killer

The Suffolk County Police Department are among the most pathetic excuses for those sworn to serve and protect anyone.

They don’t give a single fuck about the murders of Maureen Brainard-Barnes, Melissa Barthelemy, Megan Waterman, Amber Lynn Costello, Jessica Taylor, or Shannan Maria Gilbert.

They were all attractive young women in their twenties who, like myself, used Craigslist to post ads for erotic services back when they still allowed them.

Shannan Gilbert - Long Island serial killerAlthough the Suffolk County Police would like us to believe that Shannan Gilbert’s death was unrelated to the others listed above, as well as up to 10 other unidentified sets of remains found nearby, I strongly believe she was another unfortunate victim of the same Long Island serial killer.

How many sex workers have to be murdered before apprehending the killer becomes an actual priority for law enforcement?

I’ve been following this case closely for years now and none of it makes any goddamn sense.

My personal belief is that the cops are lying about Gilbert only because her family has been the most active in terms of seeking legal recourse and demanding answers.

They want to convince them that Shannan’s death is unrelated to the others because then they won’t have to find the person who murdered her.

Without the Gilbert family breathing down their necks for answers and justice, they can keep the case low on their list of priorities, where they think it belongs.

I’m sorry, but it’s insulting to anyone’s intelligence to suggest that Shannan Gilbert was not a murder victim when the last thing she did while still alive is call 911 and tell the operator that someone was “trying to kill her.”

She did not end up drowning in the marsh near Gilgo beach following that phone call. She was murdered and dumped there with a list of other sex workers, all killed by the same sadistic fuck who is still out there somewhere.

He may even be preying on prostitutes to this day, for all anyone knows.

Despite the cavalier attitude of both law enforcement and society in general, the Long Island serial killer’s victims are NOT disposable.

Assuming all sets of remains found in the vicinity are victims of the same serial killer, then Jessica Taylor is the victim who dates back the furthest.

In 1996, Taylor’s legs were found in a plastic bag on Fire Island, west of Davis Park Beach.

In 2003, her torso was discovered in the Pine Barrens near the site where another torso had been found three years earlier.

In 2011, Taylor’s skull, forearm and hands are found along Ocean Parkway, only 3/4 of a mile away from where four of the other bodies were found.

Yes, Taylor and more than one of the unidentified Jane Doe victims whose remains were recovered did seem to be disposed of differently than the four women this case is centered around.

The four women pictured above were found relatively close together along the beach and each were wrapped in burlap sacks, their skeletons intact.

While this may suggest that the dismembered victims were not killed by the same person, I think it’s awfully strange that some other psychopath with an appetite for prostitutes just happened to also be using close-by parts of the same beach as their body dumpster.

I spent the better part of a day reading Robert Kolker’s book ‘Lost Girls: an Unsolved American Mystery.

I’ll admit that while I do a lot of reading, books are not really my format of choice. In fact, the last time I read a book cover to cover was over ten years ago.

So you can imagine my surprise when after I began to read the book yesterday afternoon, I wasn’t able to stop for long before diving back into it. I finished it earlier today, devouring all 384 pages in nearly one sitting .

I highly recommend checking it out if you are at all interested in this case, he does a remarkable job of collecting interviews from everyone involved (no small accomplishment given the number of victims) and has done plenty of research on the women’s personal lives in order to give a realistic glimpse into each.

They are all treated as unique in this novel, which I appreciated more than some others might be able to. It was refreshing to get what seemed to me like an accurate representation of these women as individuals, rather than the common stereotypes many use in order to dismiss all sex workers and deny any differences that exist.

“Lynn and Jeff tried to file a missing-persons report. But for three days, the police deflected them… She’s a hooker, they told him. They weren’t going to assign a detective to something like this.”

However frightening it may be to let the words above sink in, this is the predominant attitude that not only law enforcement have of prostitutes, but society as a whole.

“I can’t believe they’re doing all this for a whore,” said one member of a TV crew.

Except for the part about there being over a DOZEN victims, all murdered and dumped on the beach like trash.

Over a dozen human beings, whores or not.

And this could just as easily be said about anyone.

‘I can’t believe they’re doing all this for a faggot.’

I can’t believe they’re doing all this for a retard.’

‘I can’t believe they’re doing all this for a welfare recipient.’

Do you think that’s how the families of these women viewed their loved ones?

What a fucking dumb fuck thing to say, I would like to count how many people show up at that loser’s funeral.

John J. Potterat, one of the nation’s leading epidemiologists, noted in 2004 that the leading cause of death for prostitutes was homicide.

You don’t say?

What a shocker.

Dormer’s chief of detectives, Dominick Varrone, called it a “consolation” that the killer didn’t appear to be “selecting citizens at large—he’s selecting from a pool.”

Ha! A consolation to whom, I wonder?

To the types of families who live in places like Oak Beach, perhaps?

To the “normal” people watching it all on the news from the safety of their homes?

To the most incompetent officers and detectives in the free world, without a fucking clue what life is like outside of their own common circumstances?

Amid all the confusion and uncertainty surrounding these strange circumstances, one thing remains clear: there exist only two possible scenarios in which the Long Island serial killer will be caught.

The first such scenario is if he decides to murder his next victim in broad daylight on a busy sidewalk for everyone to see and then turns himself into the police afterwards.

Sadly, this is the more likely of scenarios than the alternative.

That would be for people to start fucking caring about solving the case.