Dear Human Islands,
I have so much hate in my relatively miniature body. I hate so much of society, of culture, and of the waning occurrences of intelligence that are cropping up in our world. I hate newsletters of any kind. I hate how much I love Courtney Stodden and her obscenely ridiculous existence.
Most of all, I hate people who are so fucking unaware that they aren’t the only goddamn person in the world that they ruin fucking everything for fucking everyone.
Human Islands. That’s you, asshole.
You are the most important human on the planet. Common human decency is, to you, allowing others to simply exist around you despite your obvious distaste.
Do you know what animals do to herd members who are dicks? They hurt them. Sometimes they kill them. We’re not allowed to do that to you because it’s frowned upon to use the “evolutionary demands” defense against a felony I committed when you rammed your stroller into my ankle for the 456th time after I even made a point to say, “you’re hitting me, and I’d like that to stop.”
If you were an alligator, I would have already stone-cold snapped a bitch.
You’re not, though. You are it, the only one that matters in the world, and everyone loves you. Don’t worry about us, because if we can’t accept you for your wonderful uniqueness, then we’re not worth your time, right? You are who you are, and no one should really expect you to change.
- for leaving your shopping cart to ram into unsuspecting old ladies in the lot instead of walking it 12 feet to the left
- for being blissfully unaware of how goddamn loud your food wrappers are in a movie theater
- for yellphoning in a bank lobby
- for blocking a grocery store aisle until you’re good and goddamn ready to pick a pasta sauce
- for staying in the left lane going 50 WHILE TEXTING AND ALSO EATING CORN ON THE COB (true story)
- for allowing your children to view the mall as their personal screaming/punch-running quarters
- for sending me endless Linked-In requests
- for throwing clothes you’ve tried on into a horrible rumpled-ass pile on the dressing room floor
- for taking 45 minutes to select an overhead bin nowhere near your seat
- for banning something because you don’t want to say no to your child
- for shitting on the floor or wall of any public restroom (seriously, it’s not that hard to aim your asshole at a toilet)
- for not punching the child that punches all the loaves of bread in
- for elbowing my tits in IKEA because you really needed that $2 shower curtain right fucking now
- for walking so. fucking. slowly. through a crosswalk
- for being a fucking hipster asshole
- for demanding a refund on something you know is ludicrous simply because you’re a customer
- for letting your kid throw tortilla chips at me over the booth for an hour at On The Border, and then becoming upset when I pegged him one in the face hole
Most of all, fuck you for not simply saying, “excuse me.” Those simple words mean the difference between your life and your untimely yet relatively un-sad demise at my alligator maiming. We all fuck up once in a while, but say that phrase and we all know it’s okay.
Grow up. Look around you. Realize that you’re not alone here. Act like an asshole all day at home if you like, but once you’re among people, you have to act like people.
Say the words, save a life.
Noa D. Gavin– Ever seen a Human Island? What’d they do that pissed you off? Did you say anything to them? – Favorite Comment From The Last Post: From Carrie-Cannibalistic Nerd: “My cousin is a competitive birth story teller. She always busts out that her epidural only worked on half of her body and oh-my-god-it-was-so-awful. Meanwhile my sister, who’s had two completely natural births secretly rolls her eyes. My sister’s last delivery was chaotically fast – she came close to giving birth in her car. My cousin always loudly exclaims “God, I wish I had a quick labor like you.” Sometimes I just wish people would just literally say what they’re feeling – just yell “MEEEEEEEEEEEE!” for 15 seconds and get it over with.”