Dear Judgmental Soccer Mom

Thanks for the comments! I was going to entertain myself for an hour or so until lunch got here with sarcasm and double entendre and time how long it took to catch on. I do enjoy those kinds of back and forth exchanges but I decided to make it a post instead.

First I want to start by saying you are probably correct. This may come as a surprise to you considering what low esteem you hold myself in and how highly (judging by posts) you esteem yourself–wait does that even work as a sentence–anyway, I was saying we have a lot in common, which may come as a surprise. I, like you, enjoy immensely judging others. After all how else are we to feel better about ourselves if we cannot put others below us? And who better to judge one’s entire being than one who spends their day in deep thought about purses and whose self-admitted most terrifying experience was a child locked in a car for a few minutes with an adult present? I don’t know but I’ve heard that large rocks and other blunt objects don’t really exist so thank goodness the fire department got there. It’s well documented most children do melt in 80 degree weather in 12 minutes so it was the nick of time. Not to belabor but truly natural disaster survivors, kidnap victims, rape victims, murder victims and Screech from Saved by the Bell have nothing on you when it comes to surviving tragedy.

I, as one who enjoys judging as well, too find that the most telling feature of another is their desire to participate in common human idiosyncrasies involving physical contact.

Why I once knew this woman, we’ll call her Candy, and Candy absolutely would not participate in kissing! I often thought to myself, what a horrible person this must be to not want to express this common human sign of intimacy even mid coitus! I feel a soccer mom would be the perfect individual to judge her. Would you like her number? You’ll need to speak to LeRoy first, and if he tries to get you to fly into Vegas in heels and a boa just ignore him. That goofy guy is always pulling those stunts. And actually once you’ve notified Candy of her poor kissing decisions in life you’ll likely get along wonderfully as you can both talk to each other endlessly about yourselves.

Did you happen to hear about this new “terrorist” fist bump many are participating in to avoid handshakes? Indeed. It seems germs are the worry but I see something more nefarious afoot. Particularly terribleness (as you put it). What kind of person would avoid such a long-honored tradition of human contact as a handshake you ask? The kind to be burned of course, preferably a stake I always say, not out of dislike of course but if the issue truly is germs, well nothing kills germs like a little fire.

My roommate adopted an abused cat and that bitch will not let you pet her! The nerve. Well she’ll let me now but it took years. And the trick is she has to see you first, palm out and give a sniff. No sneaky pets or she’ll freak out and claw. By comparison I’ve been caring for my mom’s cat as she recovers and Sophie is the ideal of outward affection truly. She’s all about pets which obviously makes Sophie a better person all around.

Did you know that abused kids have the habit of flinching prior to impending and certain human contact? Dirty little introverts. How terribly unsocial of them. Be sure to keep your kids away from that sort of refuse. I mean go get abused somewhere else you little anti-social termites! Am I right or am I right?

Another objectionable trait of course is stupidity, and as you’ve noted I have that in spades. This however is another trait of mine which I’ve learned to quite enjoy as low IQ is an excuse for all sorts of tomfoolery! Run on sentence? Not my fault low IQ. Need critical thinking skills for something? Sounds like work so good thing I’m too stupid. Is that sarcasm I detect? Of course not, detecting sarcasm requires a complex thought process. But, want to judge a complete stranger’s entire being based on a blog post in the “This really happened mostly” category by quickly skimming it and filling in the blanks with preconceived notions zero background and low reading comprehension? A low IQ is a free pass to do that and more. So when there is a sentence right at the end of the most questionable paragraph:

“I might be exaggerating all of that for comedic effect but there’s some truth to it I’m sure.”

That inconvenient caveat can be ignored utterly and let the judgy-ness begin!

Here’s the thing. Of all of the things I mentioned in that post a dislike of hugs is by far the very least objectionable. Especially considering that I, realizing that others do not have this quirk of mine, still give hugs when they can help others. A bit more comprehension on your part would have uncovered the parable however, and found that yes, in the end, the hug did help but in a different way. Which is often what makes a story I’m told.

But maybe I should just talk about purses and other dire first world problems careful never to write anything objectionable lest I be the victim of my own judgment, right?

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About Please Return to Owner

I'm your deranged avatar, a figment of your fevered imagination. Breath a word of this to no one. They'll all call you crazy.
This entry was posted in Life advice from Yoda... or a yeti who knows and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Dear Judgmental Soccer Mom

  1. Gosh…a whole post about meeee! You like me, you reallllly like me! And, punkin, I’m not a soccer mom…holy shit, I hate soccer. It’s a stupid game. Unfortunately, you seem to have had a humorectomy recently. Too bad, because your writing, while sloppy and certainly lacking in vocabulary skills, was kind of funny and refreshing. A sort of 27b/6 wannabe. I had no idea you were trying to be taken seriously, (as a comedian) though. A bit of advice? Don’t quit your day job.

    Like

    • I don’t know, I always thought the most curious thing about that song wasn’t who’s vain but how the fuck clouds got into the coffee. Like was she on an early flight? Did the plane break apart!? Did it break apart in a fucking cloud and get all up in her coffee!!? People need to stop worrying about who the asshole is and try to save that cup of coffee… and the plane.

      Funny you should mention it. I am quitting my day job! But not to blog. That would be fucking stupid. I’m taking a different daytime job doing the same thing but for a better company (hopefully). In the meantime loose ends to tie up, bodies to bury, search histories to somehow permanently delete. And besides I want to start adding pretty pictures to my blog so I’m trying to figure out the whole how to draw thing real quick.

      I’ll be back. I do it for me. Because I’m so… fuck what’s the word?

      Like

Really? That's so interesting. You don't say. Uh huh... What! No I'm totally listening!

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