You just made my list!

This is one of those subjects that fills me with so much rage that I’m not convinced I can make it through without punching my computer in the face. It does not help that it’s past midnight and I am tired from drinking.

OK, I know you have seen, or at least heard of, Mtv’s Cribs. Well now they have a new version called “Teen Cribs” that makes me want to dig a hole and bury myself alive. You might think from the title that this program visits the homes of famous teenagers like the Jonas Brothers and shows how awesome they are and how bad you suck. Believe it or not, it’s actually much worse. Teen Cribs goes to the homes of rich families who happen to have teen children. Are you following me? These are just a bunch of random rich asshole teenagers! They are not famous and they have literally achieved nothing more than being lucky enough to fall out of the vagina of a rich woman.

Who the fucking fuck wants to watch some spoiled fuck with unruly hair take you on a tour of their parent’s mansion? No wonder this country is about to implode!

I hate everyone.

Hey Canada, I’m trying to have a little spring here, you wanna stop blowing your bullshit cold air in my face so I can enjoy the few months of warm weather we get in Chicago?

What’s the deal? Is this payback for George W. Bush? Limp Bizkit? Carrot Top? We are super fucking sorry about all that but enough is enough, Canada. I just want to pull my grill out of the garage and sit on my patio without a jacket. I want to feel the warmth of the sun on my face while I clean my guns, watch NASCAR and not read the newspaper. Hey, I’m American!

Look Canada, you have to choose. Either you continue to send us all your comedians or you blow your stupid cold air all over us, but you do not get to do both. You’re supposed to be “America’s hat” not America’s cold air machine that makes cold air and blows cold air… shut up, you know what I mean! I’m too cold to think clearly!

Is it just me or does it seem like a porno or a drug deal gone bad could break out at any moment in these places?

You can always spot a McMansion from a mile away thanks to the “grand” entrance they ALL have. I wonder what it must feel like to enter your home through such a fantastic portal. On one hand you must feel big and important because you are living the dream but at the same time you must also feel tiny standing next to your giant plastic pillars. Actually I would imagine the “rich “people who own these monstrosities usually just enter through their two car garage. Yeah you heard right, these titans of industry can park two cars, indoors!

The only good thing about McMansions is that you can be sure most of the douchebags who own them are currently losing their asses in this terrible economy. That’s something to be happy about, right?

Really? Seriously? For Reals?!?

I’m guessing if you are the kind of person who is lazy enough to use an automatic shower sprayer you have a bathroom that requires more help than this piece of shit can provide. A push of this magic button is not going to erase the last 10 years of failure as a human being. You are still going to have Flamin Hot Cheeto dust all over your “Everybody Loves Raymond” T-shirt after asking your new high tech shower robot (you will think it’s a robot) to clean that filthy hell hole you call a shower.

Maybe I’m being too harsh but I’m pretty sure I am right about everything, always. GOD DAMN, I’m awesome!

I already know nobody is going to care about this subject and I’m going to get comments like “you are really starting to suck Listy, I hope you die,” so please kiss my freshly groomed personal area!

Here’s the deal, it’s my fucking blog website and I HATE seeing signs with lights burned-out so I’m going to write about it!

These jerks are like little kids begging for a dog, “I will walk him and feed him and pet him and brush him every day. Please can we have a puppy? PLEASE?” Sure, their sign looks kickass the first month when all the bulbs are happily flashing away. Then one bulb burns out and the owner says to himself “I will change that bulb next week.” That week turns into 15 years and the next thing you know I’m staring at 247 burned-out bulbs and 3 working lights desperately trying to pick up the slack.

If you want to have an awesome sign with tons of lights then it is your duty to keep ME happy with constant sign maintenance. Why do you want to upset me? Take care of that precious little puppy for the love of God!

Sheesh. Do I even need to explain why these people should be punished? I can understand if you have to keep your cell phone in a belt holster because the nature of your job makes it a necessity but… wait, no I can’t understand it ever. You should quit your job, nothing is worth this.

While you are at it, please shave that neatly-trimmed “Blue Collar Comedy” goatee too. How do I know you have this goatee? Because you wear your cell phone on your belt.

I thought it could not get any worse than a belt holster but I happened upon this and it shook me to my very core. Get a purse already!

I always thought Indiana had the worst state slogan with their lame “Crossroads of America,” which basically means “Nothing to See Here, Keep Driving.” Well Indiana, you should thank Wisconsin for announcing today that their new official slogan is “Live Like You Mean It!”

I just about fell off my chair* when I heard this hilarious news. Have you ever been to Wisconsin? Has the Wisconsin Board of Tourism ever been to Wisconsin?!? Wisconsin is not a bad place, in fact I like a lot of things about Wisconsin, but it’s hardly a seize-the-day kind of place. Maybe seize-the-nachos and beer. Carpe diem? Nope.

Now if you are from Wisconsin and think I am unfairly categorizing Wisconsinites as “fat” please do not waste your breath. I have lived in the Midwest my entire life so I know firsthand what a bunch of fat fucks we (not me) are. We like our meat, we like our cheese and we like our beer. Then we like some more meat, some more cheese and 6 more beers. If you give us a salad it fucking better be covered in cheese and bacon or someone is getting hurt.

Back to the topic… how exactly are people from Wisconsin meant to live? What if they don’t “mean it,” should they give up hope and sit around getting fat and drunk? Hey, that sounds a lot like Wisconsin! Perhaps a better slogan would be something like “Mean to Live but Have Another Beer Instead.”

*gold-plated throne

There is nothing more tragic than white people who think they are somehow tapping into some great mystic force because they purchased a plastic dreamcatcher when they stopped at the Kum & Go for some lottery tickets and a Slim Jim. I hate to tell you this Linda, but the fact that you think you are 1/32 Cherokee and you collect wolf figurines makes you about as spiritual as a stripper. How’s that dreamcatcher working out for you by the way? If your dream was to dress exclusively in sweatpants and oversized Looney Tunes T-shirts then I guess it’s working. Did you pray to the wolf spirit for an alcoholic husband who loves Nickelback and works at Pizza Hut? Is the wind God helping you lose that last 165 lbs. you just can’t seem to lose on your own? Stop embarrassing yourself Linda!