Sunday, June 20, 2010


How You Have Wronged Me Today will be on temporary hiatus.  I apologize for any inconvenience.  Although, honestly, if you're somehow inconvenienced by the fact that this isn't going to be updated for a while, you need some new fucking hobbies.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

Dear Girl Who Rubbed Her Boobs on My Friend:

Drunk people do ridiculous things and this was one of those times.  I was at a bar with some friends of mine having a good time.  Out of nowhere, you come barging into our little area with all the grace of a bull in a china shop.  You actually pushed one of our friends out of the way so you could awkwardly run into my other friend.  You basically stuck your chest out (you might have even have pulled the top of your dress down slightly) and then rubbed your boobs on my friend before continuing on your way.  This prompted mass confusion and fits of laughter.  Who the fuck does that?  Does that pick-up move usually work for you?  You then went over near the door and stood super drunkenly by yourself.  I mean, you could barely stand.  This was hilarious in and of itself, but you decided to come back for more a few minutes later.  This time you awkwardly stood next to us and said something completely incomprehensible.  My friend, the apparent apple of your eye, just ignored you and looked away.  I asked what you said, but you were so drunk you either didn't hear me or couldn't put together a complete sentence.  I'm guessing the latter.  You then told us several that times you were leaving.  And I mean you said something that sounded kind of like this, "I'm jus' gonna leave.. don't worry 'bout it, I'm jus' gonna leave... it's cool.. I'm leavin' anyways..  I'm gonna leave now... don't worry."  You heard no arguments from us.  We were too busy laughing.  And then thankfully you did leave.  You did, however, go over to a friend (or maybe a complete stranger) and start pointing at us and saying who knows what.  Whatever, Tits McGee.  Don't be so fucking drunk and weird.  I'm fairly certain your random boob-rubbing isn't really a viable way to meet guys anyways.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Dear Person Who Almost Hit Me:

First of all, fuck you.  Second of all, seriously?  I was crossing the street (with the walk signal I should note) and halfway across the street, some Peter Pan bus decided it was going to take a right hand turn onto the street I'm crossing.  So I wait in the middle of the street while the bus passed.  The bus goes and I continue my way across the street.  This is where you come in.  Apparently you were tailgating the shit out of the bus because you were right on its ass taking a right hand turn as well.  I stop short because you are making no effort to slow down or stop for me.  Not only that, but you're not even looking at the fucking road.  Instead you're too busy talking to the girl in your passenger seat to realize you're about 6 feet from hitting me.  Also, you're driving some shitty fake sports car.  In my head you were driving a Chevy IROC, but that's giving you way too much credit.  I think it was actually a new Dodge Charger or something ridiculous.  Fortunately you stop.  And when I say stop I mean slam your brakes on.  Not without giving me a dirty look either, of course.  You then decide to bump up the douchebaggery by nailing the gas and revving your engine as you pass me.  Compensating much?  I'm sure your lady friend was super impressed.  After all, shitty sports cars and engine revving screams, "I have a small penis and I want everyone to know it."  Just try watching where the fuck you're going next time, asshole.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Dear People Making Weird Noises on Bus:

I'm getting really sick of writing about people on the bus.  I don't want to keep doing it.  I really don't.  But it seems that the bus is the source of the majority of my consternation.  Today you two were the big winners.  And when I say big winners I mean you two were really fucking annoying and weird.  I honestly don't even know how to describe the situation.  I don't know if you were making "cat-calls" at random females on the street (who can't hear you because you're inside a fucking bus) or if you just decided you wanted to annoy everyone on the bus (mission accomplished, guys).  But your weird whooping noises followed by incessant cackling was driving me insane.  I should note, I had the absolute pleasure of sitting right next to you.  I got to witness all the annoying noises up close and personal.  Awesome.  At some point someone told you to shut-up.  You got defiant and started puffing your chest out asking who said that.  Upon further review, however, I think one of you said it in an effort to stir up fake controversy the bus.  Because, you know, the constant fucking weird noises you were making wasn't enough.  I don't even know the noise was.  I couldn't tell if it was a word you were yelling, or just some weird outburst.  But whatever it was, you two thought it was fucking hilarious.  It wasn't.  I honestly think you guys were on drugs of some variety.  I'm basing this assumption off the completely vacant stare you gave me when we briefly made eye contact.  It certainly seemed chemically-enhanced and not just the normal weird vibe.  Remember kids, don't do drugs.  Or at least don't do them, get on a bus, and piss everyone off by making weird fucking noises for the entire trip.

Saturday, June 5, 2010

Dear Bicyclist:

You didn't actually wrong me at all, but you did throw a complete fucking tantrum and it was hilarious.  In fact, based on your absolute shit-fit, it would appear that you, sir, have been wronged today.  You were riding your bike through the city streets, presumably minding your own business.  Of course, there was no bike lane and you may or may not have been occasionally careening into traffic as bicyclists are wont to do.  Apparently the SUV creeping up behind you got a little too close to you for your own liking.  Traffic was horrendous, and no one was moving  faster than 5 miles an hour, so even if the SUV "hit" you, I don't think it would have really done any damage to you or your bike.  Nonetheless, you flipped your shit.  I should also note that you were rocking some serious fluorescent shit.  Stickers and shit on your helmet, and those things you tie around your pant legs so they don't get caught on your chain.  It was also the middle of the afternoon and you really had absolutely no need to look like a fucking construction worker.  But whatever -- safety first, right?  So there you are in the middle of the street, with your sweet fluorescent gear, and you start screaming at the SUV.  Not like scary aggressive yelling like you're going to fucking kill someone, but like that embarrassing kind where your voice cracks and no one can take you seriously.  The SUV moves along and stops at a red light not too far up ahead.  You catch up on your bike and continue screaming in the least menacing way possible.  The high note was perhaps when you yelled, "What is WRONG with you?! You could have KILLED me!"  (No, not really.  I mean, I was walking past this scene faster than traffic was moving.  They definitely would not have even injured you.)  The folks in the car completely ignored you and you continued yelling and screaming and swearing for a while longer before riding off into the sunset.  High comedy indeed.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Dear People Hawk-Watching Update:

Seriously?  One of your weirdos made a fucking Youtube video about the hawks?  I'm bored just watching the five-minute clip, how the fuck do you guys manage to stand around there for hours on end?

Here it is, in all of its pathetic glory.  It even includes a few still shots of the crowd.  I don't actually recommend anyone watch this: