10 Reasons Why I Don’t Want Kids

why I don't want kids

Pictures of babies usually makes people go “awwww!”

Presumably because it fills them with a warm and fuzzy giddiness.

The same kind I have instead associated with dogs and puppies (especially Bub).

As a kid, I didn’t want to play with dolls.

Why the hell would anyone want to play with a baby?!

As far as I could tell, babies only did three different things. They could cry, sleep and shit themselves.

Seriously, didn’t kids with siblings already have a real-life version of that?!

To this day, I completely fail to understand the appeal.

Myself? I had a giant suitcase of Barbies to play with instead.

Barbies were glamorous and grown-up, which I enjoyed envisioning myself as when I was a kid. I wanted to be a gorgeous girl like her, with lots of clothes and a killer pink limousine!

As a teenager, I was equally as uninterested in babysitting any of my younger cousins.

Well, fast-forward to being an adult, and not much has changed when it comes to my feelings about babies and kids.

I’ll be thirty years old in less than a year and I still don’t have any of my own (unless you’re enlightened enough to count Bub, which you should be).

On that note, let’s countdown the top ten reasons why I don’t want kids.

#10: No Interest Whatsoever

Similar to the subject of cooking, I just don’t have any interest in children or raising them.

Would it be cool to know how to make a recipe or two?


But not cool enough to make the process of learning them feel worth it to me.

#9: The Adoption Argument

You hear this one ALL the time in the context of animals and pets.

Why pay hundreds or thousands of dollars to buy a dog from a breeder, when so many rescue animals are sitting in shelters waiting to be adopted or put down?

Considering I’d do best with kids over the age of eight or nine, adoption makes more sense.

And no way will I be allowed to adopt a human child in this lifetime (thank the Gods)!

#8: Potential for Tragedy

Look, I don’t know about you, but…the thought of having a child who is diagnosed with cancer at the age of four years old doesn’t exactly sound like a scenario I could survive.

Know what I’m saying?

There are just too many ways for things to go horribly wrong, most of which are totally outside of our control.

#7: Leaving a Legacy

Children are often thought of as someone’s legacy.

Some living abstraction of that person and the new one they created, which will carry the parent’s genes into the future.

I guess that’s cool and all, but I can think of better things to leave behind.

I will become immortal through the words I write, the stories I send out into the world. I’ll be kept alive each time a stranger reads them for the first time.

You, on the other hand, will likely be forgotten by your own family after a generation or two.

#6: I Just DON’T Like Them

There are some things in life that I kind of just hate.

Country music, sports and kids, to name a few.

You might think that’s awful, but my idea of awful is seeing the exasperation of some poor woman on the bus who can’t seem to console her screaming toddler.

I’ve never envied one.

#5: Fucked Up Parents

Although I was fortunate enough to be raised by two wonderful grandparents, my biological parents happen to be two of the biggest pieces of human trash on the planet.

Suffice to say, I know firsthand how lovely life can be when both of the assholes who gave it to you are worthless, selfish, abusive breeds of scum.

Even worse is the inevitable realization that they probably only intended to cause a fraction of all the misery they are responsible for.

No. Thank. You.

#4: Disgusted by Pregnancy

Trust me when I say, it’s NOT just the thought of pregnancy that disgusts me.

With six abortions under my belt (pun intended), I think it’s safe to say that I’ve given the whole thing its due.

NOT willing to earn any new stretch marks or destroy my vagina for the sake of having kids, sorry.

#3: Worst Demographics EVER

I mean this in the most literal sense possible.

I am unemployed, uneducated, unstable.

Addicted to drugs.

Poor credit, no bank account, no savings. Not a fucking dollar to my name!

No career, no degree, no employment or rental history.

No fucks given about the future, frankly.

#2: Finding ‘Mr. Right’

How do I say this?

Guys who want to ‘start a family’ aren’t really my type.

I’m attracted to people more like myself, who live in a confusing chaos somewhere between adolesence and adulthood.

Some women don’t concern themselves much over who the father of their baby is, or whether he will be around to help raise them.

I am NOT one of those women.

#1: Lack of Consent

Most importantly, I do not want children because the world has mostly been a disappointment and I will not force someone into it without their permission.

The fact is, no one is asked if they want to be born.

I often envision being asked, then given a momentary glimpse of life before having to decide.

I would have taken a pass, personally.

5 Reasons Why I Love Gone With the Wind

Artwork Credit: glimmeringlight.deviantart.com

Gone With the Wind is one of my all time favorite movies.

If you have NOT seen it, stop reading now and go watch it immediately. It’s just under 4 hours long, so be sure to get comfortable before you start it!

Should you fail to watch the film in its entirety before continuing to read this post, I’m afraid I can’t be friends with you anymore.

Don’t you want to be my friend?!

Good! Then watch the damn movie.

Scarlett Fever







Scarlett O’Hara, where do I even begin?

I can safely say that she is EVERYTHING about all women that makes us unbearable. Maddening.

Therefore, she is simultaneously ALL the things which make us irresistible as well.

  • She is loud and full of high energy.
  • She is used to getting everything she wants with little effort.
  • She won’t hesitate to throw an outright tantrum when denied.
  • She is gorgeous and fully aware of the leeway this gives her.
  • She flirts with ALL men, no exceptions.
  • She is 100% shameless.

Like the rest of us human beings, she quickly begins to take for granted that which comes too easily and too often.

In spite of the endless line of young men competing for her attention, it seems that only Ashley Wilkes has (unwittingly) discovered the secret to capturing it.

He remains aloof and immune to her charm.

Like countless other women before her (whether they’ll admit it or not), she only seems to want a man who she cannot have.

A forbidden fruit that belongs to someone else.

Although he has no alluring traits, the denial of his affection allows her the time needed to imagine him some kind of hero.

At no point within her delusions does she pause to ask herself if she even likes Ashley Wilkes.

Rhett Makes Me Wet







Then, along comes the man of ANY woman’s (wet) dreams!

But poor little Scarlett is way too busy distorting reality and being in love with a total douche.

And it’s a damn shame, too.

Because Rhett Butler is the FULL MEAL DEAL.

About thirty seconds into their first encounter, he calls her out as the snotty-nosed brat she is and then shrugs it all off.

He’s in no rush, after all.

He figures Scarlett might just turn out to be a fun time, once she grows the fuck up and gets over her little grade school crush.

“With enough courage, you can do without a reputation.”

In the meantime, Rhett wanders off on his own adventures in life to pass the time. Among his better friends is a prostitute named Belle who keeps him company from time to time.

Scarlett makes the mistake of insulting Belle, to which Rhett responds with one of his sexiest lines ever:

“If you were a man, I’d break your neck for that.”

And then FINALLY, after years of bullshit games…they get together.

He buys her a giant engagement rock, she gives him a daughter and they move into an extravagant mansion.

He gives her everything.

Except for Ashley Wilkes.

By the end of the movie, these two have suffered major tragedies, both independently and as a couple.

But rather than see them come together, it only works to further drive them apart.

Just as it seems to often happen in real life, Scarlett’s moment of clarity comes too late.

More Than a (Fucked Up) “Love Story”

I’m sure you didn’t get very far into that before writing this off as a ‘chick flick.’

Make no mistake – this is more than 4 straight hours of sappy love story.

It’s a period film set in 1860’s America, from the perspective of the defeated South in a war that marked the end of slavery.

It is a dramatic masterpiece.

It’s the quintessential historical fiction.

Never Gets Old

I can only hope to age as gracefully as Gone With the Wind has.

Filmed over seventy years ago, it somehow manages to never feel dated or seem cheesy when I watch it.

Once I travel back in time 35 years or more, most movies have an understandably ‘awkward‘ feel to them.

I’m sure this is due to a disconnect between styles that were common then, and just seem silly to me now.

Gone With the Wind is truly a timeless classic.

Shit Gets *REAL*

For anyone who doesn’t know, this story takes place in the Southern United States around the beginning of the American Civil War.

Scarlett’s spoiled childhood comes to an abrupt halt as she watches her family lose everything.

We watch as she endures all the hardships that come with war — starvation, poverty, destruction and disease. For her, the fall of the Confederacy means losing her home and loved ones.

Alas, she astonishes us all with her ability to adapt to whatever new situation she finds herself in.

Ultimately, Gone With the Wind is a tale of survival and indestructible human will.

“As God is my witness, I’ll never go hungry again!”

Everything I Have to Say About Politics


Part of me really would rather not tackle this subject, but I figure anything that somehow manages to consume me the way the results of this election have is probably something I need to get out of my head.

It’s not very often that I react to something in a way that truly surprises me. I know myself pretty fucking well and to find myself profoundly affected by something in a totally unexpected way has been a strange experience indeed.

My keen self-awareness has probably made it all the more surreal. Over the past year or so, I’ve been taking note of my own increasing level of interest and engagement in American politics.

It’s been difficult NOT to notice about myself, as it was never something that I devoted much time, thought or energy to in the past.

At many different points during these last six months especially, I’ve caught myself having thoughts along the lines of:

  • “Since when am I the kind of person who follows election news this closely?!”
  • “Okay so I’m pretty sure I’ve never cared this much or felt this strongly about any Presidential candidate before, but I have to admit…I am rooting for Hillary, dammit!”
  • “UGGGGHH…I swear to God, if I open my big fat mouth one more time and start talking about ANOTHER news story about the election, I’m seriously going to slap myself in the face”
  • “Well at least now I am absolutely certain that I’ve become a boring, old grown-up who cares about drudgery like fucking politics…I wonder if I’d be less preoccupied with it if I were happier with my own life at the moment”
  • “Okay, I don’t even know myself at all anymore…I AM NOT the kind of reject who is moved to tears over the outcome of a fucking election, WTF has happened to me?!”


Okay, so let’s travel back in time nearly seventeen years…shall we?

Presidential Election of 2000

It is fall of the year 2000. The school year began just two months prior to the election, and I was in the 7th grade at Clear Creek Middle School in Gresham, OR.

As November 8th drew near, I remember Mr. Hemstead (who I had a ridiculous crush on all of that year) began to give us a political primer on how Presidential elections work in the United States.

This was as good a time to start the discussion as any, I would imagine.

I’d just turned thirteen a month before, so I was barely mature enough to acknowledge the world beyond my own self, at least momentarily.

In fact, as I sit here reflecting on this period of time in my life, I become more and more convinced that it’s quite possibly the perfect age group to be in.

My brain was pretty much focused on my first “boyfriend” who I had met around this time. In between the flickers of boring crap they were teaching us at school, I mostly sat around thinking about the last time I’d seen him and trying to relive the first time butterflies of someone touching my boobs.

I think my biggest fear and concern back then was dropping a tampon on my way to the restroom from class or something equally as retarded and hilarious.

Life was not so bad, looking back.

This particular year, as many of you already know, George W. Bush was the Republican candidate running against former Vice President Al Gore, a Democrat.

I didn’t know much about either of them at that point in time and I had just barely enough sense of who I was and what would end up mattering to me in life to be aware that I tended to side with Democrats and their values.

As we learned more about how the elections ran, everything seemed hunky dory until we suddenly hit a giant hole in the road as we were listening to Mr. Hemstead explaining shit one day.

Waaait just a minute! Back up, please…

What was that last part, again?!

The Electoral College (or why I Never Voted)

Okay, now just hang on a goddamn second please.

I thought I was starting to get a grasp on how all this shit works and then you had to go and utter the two most sterile and condescending words I’ve ever encountered.

Electoral college.


What about that part about how we live in a free country where WE elect OUR President by VOTING?!

WHAT the FUCK happened to THAT PART?

It seemed awfully important. You sure sounded proud when you said it a moment ago, yeah?

This is going to be JUST like that fucked up lie I was fed back in Kindergarten, ISN’T IT?

Like…what was that all about, anyway?

Thank you for lying about someone as awesome as Santa Claus existing and thank you for trying to lie to me about something as awesome as the concept of fucking voting.

Man, you really had me going there for a moment! Good one, bruh.

And before you go trying to “explain” why the electoral college exists or launch into some fucking psuedo civics lecture I didn’t ask for…yeah, I’ve heard it all before.

Save it.

The reason we have the electoral college is because we DON’T VOTE FOR SHIT.

The reason we have the electoral college is because we DON’T VOTE FOR SHIT.


Well, I take that back.

Many of us DO in fact vote…it just doesn’t mean fucking shit.

How quaint.

I remember after I learned this in school, I had a conversation with my grandfather about it at the time (who is a Republican and Conservative).

I remember simply asking him why we had a system where the person who gets more votes may not actually end up being elected our President.

He responded by assuring me that such a scenario was so rare that it virtually never happened.

Aaaaaaand then!

George W. Bush lost the popular vote to Al Gore and was elected our next fucking President.

Hey Dad, can you tell me again about how rare that whole thing is please?

I seem to have forgotten.

Underestimating Stupidity

At that point, I was wholly disillusioned about our process for electing our most “important leader.”

I called total bullshit on the whole thing and decided right then and there (as a pathetic little teenager) that I wasn’t going to play that fucking insulting game of bullshit.

What for?

My vote would count towards absolutely nothing but a cute little statistic that people would chat about over breakfast as the real decisions were ultimately made by OTHER PEOPLE.

No fucking thanks.

How dumb were these fucking people?

I mean I love my grandfather to death, he raised me as his own daughter and I respect the hell out of him. But I still fail to see the logic behind his argument that you don’t have a right to bitch unless you vote.

…in an election where votes determine nothing whatsoever.

In the year that followed, the terrorist attack took place which took down the World Trade Towers in New York City.

Following that disaster, I watched President George W. Bush declare some bogus and vague “war on terror” and begin to bomb the shit out of Afghanistan and other Middle Eastern countries.

Keeping in mind that I was still pretty young while this was all going on, I was basically just left with the impression that Bush Jr. was a war mongering, illiterate redneck who probably should have just declared Texas a soverign nation and appointed himself King of that shit hole instead.

Bush Jr. was a war mongering, illiterate redneck who probably should have just declared Texas a soverign nation and appointed himself King of that shit hole instead

By the time his first four years as President were drawing to a close, I was pretty much convinced that he was done for. There was no way people would be dumb enough to re-elect this guy for a second term when the man could barely speak a coherent sentence.

Oh, that’s right. We don’t get to choose after all, fuck I keep forgetting that!

I went as far as making a bet with my grandfather, who was certain he’d serve a second term. I still owe him that $100 to this fucking day.

I was so upset when he won the 2004 election against John Kerry. I was in total awe of how many ass backwards dumbfucks I was apparently surrounded by constantly.

And it was after that when I thought I had learned the frustrating and depressing lesson in underestimating the baseline of stupidity in this country.

Which seems funny to me now, all these years later!

My Failure to Appreciate Obama

The 2008 Presidential Election was the first one in which I was eligible to cast my completely meaningless vote for anyone from Barack Obama or John McCain to Charles fucking Manson, if I so desired.

But I didn’t.

Why the fuck would I? It wouldn’t matter and it wouldn’t count towards anything so I didn’t fucking care.

I was just glad Bush Jr. was finally outta the White House for good and I was certainly pleased to hear that Obama was elected that year because the only damn thing I knew about him at that point was that he was African American and a Democrat.

And back during this time in my life, I was kind of a wild child. I hadn’t settled down into a permanent residence yet and I was pretty wrapped up in my own drama and bullshit, like many people are in their early 20s.

I know some people join the Peace Corps when they turn eighteen or whatever, but I was not one of those people and I don’t claim to have been.

So part of it was just that I didn’t get a ballot in the mail and I certainly wasn’t going to jump through any fucking hoops to cast a meaningless joke of a ballot so I could get some dumbfuck pin that said ‘I voted!’

I was glad that we had elected a Democrat and even more profoundly glad that he was our first African American President. I considered that progress and I was happy that we had finally reached that goal.

But it didn’t mean enough to me then.

It should have, but it didn’t.

It wasn’t because I didn’t care, but rather because

a) I was a young, self-absorbed asshole like most people and

b) his victory did not have enough of a personal meaning for me like I’m sure it did for African Americans who turned up to vote for him in truly inspirational numbers.

Speaking from where I am now in my life, I applaud them for doing so (even if voting is stupid and fucking pointless).

I just didn’t get it back then.

I do now, but back then I didn’t.

And while I didn’t vote in the 2012 election either, I was glad Obama was re-elected for a second term and that he wasn’t replaced by a Republican (Mitt Romney, in that case).

But the biggest mistake I made during the eight years he spent in office was remaining generally apathetic about his Presidency.

I didn’t dislike him by any means. But I didn’t get very excited about him either, and I should have.

Only now, in his final months as our President do I finally understand and appreciate the things he has done and the values which he has stood for the entire time.

Only now, in his final months as our President do I finally understand and appreciate the things he has done and the values which he has stood for the entire time.

I feel ashamed that I took him for granted so long and that it took Donald fucking Trump winning the 2016 election for me to pull my fucking head out of my stupid ass.

It should never require absolute fear and staring evil straight in the face for you to recognize what is truly good when it has been present all along.

And beyond that basic lesson, I have come to also realize just how important it is to join in the celebration of those victories won by other groups of people, even when you are not necessarily part of those groups yourself.

And not just by letting out a sigh of relief because you sympathize with them and have the same core values and believe in equality.

That’s not enough.

You need to do it with all your heart, you have to celebrate it as if the victory was your own. Because it is, and if you fail to see that then the only one who loses out is YOU.

Losing My Voting Virginity

Of all the unexpected things I could possibly find myself saying, I certainly would never have guessed I’d be admitting that I lost my Presidential voting virginity to a woman.

Does that make me gay?

I don’t think so…yeah, it definitely doesn’t.

But it’s the truth.

Starting somewhere in my mid-twenties, I finally had an address for long enough that they started sending me ballots in the mail.

I always chose to vote on local issues because when it comes to those (whaddaya know?!) your vote actually counts.

So when I got a piece of mail asking me to fill one of two circles with black pen to help decide whether or not the city of Portland should continue to grant funding for local libraries…well, what can I say?

It just seemed like an awfully small action to ask of me, so I’d vote in support of fucking libraries or whatever the fuck.

A true Liberal twat. Plus I’m a Millennial, so you are required to HATE me.

And this year when it showed up, it had two names on it.

Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton.

I figured ehhhh…why the fuck not?

I’m With Her.

The Mistake of Believing

While I had realized very early on in this election that history was not on Clinton’s side in this race (a third consecutive Democratic term is a rare thing), I made the fatal error of wanting to believe she would win this.

I fell into the trap of starting to believe that if enough people were behind her and supported her, that it would pave the path to her victory.

I apparently started to forget the whole reason I never believed in voting for President in this country.

All because I had hope and because I wanted her to win.

The fact that she was running against a complete and utter fucking moron made it seem all the more possible. I was all set to celebrate making history in more ways than one.

I was so looking forward to seeing her shatter that literal and figurative glass ceiling like no woman before her had.

But it didn’t happen.

I sat up all night on November 8th, watching a real-time map of the United States as the votes came in (the ones that don’t mean anything, that is).

I started out patient, holding out hope for most of the night that the numbers would even out and she would prevail in the end.

But as I started to see her lose states she needed to win, a lump began to form in my stomach and I started to literally feel like I might get sick.

Still, I clung to hope and my own waning sanity until I saw Trump’s electoral count jump up on my screen to the number 264.

It was then that I knew it was over.

It was actually over and we had lost.

Votes are still being counted in some places at this time, but so far it appears that there was an army of Americans who were standing with Her. I was just one of them.

Presently, the numbers seem to indicate that she won the popular vote by upwards of 1.5 million.

And still, we lost.

Moving On

And while I cried throughout her concession speech the following morning, I also admired her strength as she stood there before her supporters and managed to deliver the words she was speaking without so much as a crack in her voice or a tear in her eye.

She is much stronger than I will ever be.

Her words echoed in my soul when she said simply that “This loss hurts…”

Does it ever.

But the real loss is yet to come.

The glass ceiling is now turning into a wall instead.

It has become like a sheet of ice over freezing waters and we are all trapped beneath it.

Now for the hardest lesson of all: learning how to mourn and suffer the losses of others as if they were our own.

Because, again, they are.

A List of Reasons to Hate Me

  1. I’m a feminist, so suck on that
  2. If I were a guy, I’d be gay
  3. I laugh at jokes that are racist, sexist and otherwise offensive…because, you know, they are JOKES
  4. If I ever stop eating meat, it will be because I’m traumatized by occasionally coming across fat or gristle and not for ethical reasons
  5. I smoke cigarettes and no amount of shaming will ever change the fact that I find smokers sort of sexy
  6. I don’t give a fuck about the environment, global warming, recycling or living fucking “green”
  7. I’m fat and I’m fine with it
  8. There’s a good chance I’m still better looking than you anyway (and even if not, the fact that I say and think that should be more than enough to earn some hate from a few people, am I right?)
  9. I’m that insufferable asshole who passes you and everyone else sitting in traffic on the freeway by driving in the emergency lane…suckers!
  10. Because I can fit this many hot dogs in my mouth at oncehot-dogs
  11. Remember that awful time that your boyfriend cheated on you while you were pregnant? I was THAT chick.
  12. My dick is definitely WAY bigger than yours, dude…and I don’t even have one!
  13. I call myself a Hillary Clinton “supporter” even though I don’t vote
  14. I can’t stand children and avoid them whenever possible; in my mind they go from being a straight up parasite to a long-term responsibility and I can’t decide which of those is worse
  15. Of the six times I’ve been knocked up, only one of those times did I have any idea who had done the knocking up
  16. I terminated all six pregnancies without a single shred of remorse
  17. Disney’s Frozen is among my favorite movies and if you don’t feel the same, I’m afraid I’ll have to Let It Go because we can’t be friends
  18. I was a HUGE fan of the motherfuckin’ Spice Girls back in the 90s
  19. If that’s not enough to make you throw up, Spiceworld (as in, the movie) has the unique distinction of being the only VHS tape I’ve ever worn out
  20. In case you hadn’t noticed yet, I have a remarkably BIG fucking mouth, which is no more evident than when I devour an entire cupcake in a single bitecupcake-gone
  21. All this talk of my brilliant youth reminds me, I’m also a lazy, worthless and intolerable Millennial!
  22. If I were a Spice Girl (as I often pretended to be as a kid, along with my BFF at the time) I think they’d call me Cunt Spice
  23. I’m incapable of monogamy. Some people like to call that being a whore, which works fine for me if that makes it easier for you to understand.
  24. I don’t believe in God because I don’t believe he exists. I also don’t believe in people, but mostly because they suck and lead only to disappointment.
  25. I am almost twenty-nine years old and I still don’t know how to change a fucking flat tire or add oil to my car. I’ve been shown more times than I can count, but there is never a shortage of men around who are happy to do it for me while explaining how it works one more time.
  26. Try as they might, people simply cannot make me feel shame. Period. So before you criticize me for being some idiot because I smoke cigarettes or something, just know that I don’t plan on living long enough for it to matter or for me to give a single fuck.
  27. My cunt of a mother is nice enough to wish me a “Happy Birthday” via email and this was my response: happy-birthday-thegirlnextfloor-gmail-com-gmail
  28. One of my biggest regrets in life is NOT intentionally running into this asshole’s unoccupied car which was sitting in front of me at a stoplight because he got out of it to come yell at my window about how I couldn’t “afford to hit his car,” after accidentally cutting him off to exit the freeway. Driving uninsured and with a suspended license, I can pretty much afford to hit anyone’s car…should have done it.
  29. If you haven’t yet found yourself offended by the things that go into my mouth, I can basically guarantee you will be offended by the things which come out of it instead. If taking the most hideous, fucked up and offensive ideas and finding the right words to express them was a profitable skill, I’d basically rule the planet.fuck-you

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.