Hate is a strong word. But I hate pyramid schemes. The people that try to sell you on these things are the absolute worst. Look, I get the whole idea of direct sales. It can be extremely profitable. I know some people that are very good at it and have created a great life for them and their families (as well as helping others). “ItWorks”……….you go girl. Ms. Arbone Lady……….do your thang. Slangin’ Marky Kay and swervin’ in a pink Cadillac……….I see you. But if your goal is to take my money and promise me a big payday if I get others to sign up, as opposed to having a plan to actually sell a product or a service, I can’t fool with you. You do not have my best interests at heart, and are essentially nothing more than a common street hustler. Now, I’m not the smartest man, but I do know better than to buy into anything you have for sale. They always think they’re so slick with that opening line: “Hey, would you like to make an extra thousand dollars a month?” Umm, let me think about it. Does a bear crap in the woods? Of course I would. Who wouldn’t. But I ain’t foolin’ with you. If I do decide to get my side hustle on, please believe it will be with a reputable distributor and true business professional. Right now, you’re not doing anything but wasting precious seconds of my life that I will not be able to get back. Get out my face.
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Hate is a strong word. But I hate when I hear a grown man say “she won’t let me see my kid(s)”. You can’t be serious. You just can’t be. This is, by far, the biggest copout I’ve heard in 35+ years of living. Fellas, if you don’t see your kid, that’s your fault. Yeah, I know some women are bitter about the breakup and use the child as a pawn. But the overwhelming majority of the time, you don’t see them because it’s not convenient for you. Now, I’m not a parent, but convenience is never a word that comes to mind when I think about how my mother raised my brother and I. I generally think of words like sacrifice and hard work. If you live in the same city as your child, there’s absolutely no reason you can’t see them at least weekly. Go by the school and have lunch with them. Take your sorry butt to basketball or gymnastics practice. I know a lot of great fathers. And come holy hell or high water, they’re going to see their child(ren). I don’t want to hear you complain about how difficult she makes it. I see you had no problem going to Atlanta last weekend and visiting the nightclub and shake junt. But yet you wanna tell me how she’s making it impossible for you to spend time with your seed(s). Give me a break, you coward. Listen; difficult takes a day, impossible takes a week. So you need to get your Tommy Cruise on and make your mission possible. While you’re out here making excuses, your child is suffering from your selfishness and immaturity. And I’m losing respect for you.
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Hate is a strong word. But I hate people that don’t know how to properly use homophones. If you (or most likely someone you know) needs a grammar lesson, please feel free to share this bad boy. First, know the difference between “their”, “they’re” and “there”. “Their” signifies possession and ownership. As in “Who was their teacher that didn’t go over homophones”. “They’re” is a contraction for “they” + “are”. As in “They’re an idiot if they don’t know to properly use homophones”. “There” is noun that describes a place or fact of existence. As in “Are there really that many people ignorant to homophone usage”. Second, know the difference between to, too and two. “To” is preposition that describes motion, affect, relationship or attachment. As in “I’m not talking to anyone who doesn’t know what a homophone is”. “Too” refers to a higher degree or in addition. As in “I guess he’s an idiot too, since he doesn’t know what a homophone is.” “Two” is a frickin’ number. As in “This two year old is smarter than you because they know what a homophone is”. In my Fred Sanford voice, don’t be a big dummy. There’s (see how I did that) nothing worse than reading a condescending post from someone, only to have them screw this up. You lose all credibility and anything you just stated, regardless of accuracy or validity, has just been ruled null and void. This is basic English, people. I’m talkin’ stuff we learned in elementary school. Please, out of respect for yourself, know (not “no”) the difference. If you ever want to communicate effectively electronically, it’s imperative that you use these words correctly. Okay, grammar 221 is done. Carry on.
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Hate is a strong word. But I hate when people post “share if you believe” or “repost and God will bless you”. What in holy hell are you people talking about? I mean the literal hell, like the one in the Bible. I have 30+ years of religious and church experience under my belt, and at no time, and I mean no time, have I seen this trivial act proposed as a prerequisite to get into heaven. Now, I probably won’t be a first round draft pick into the pearly gates, and I sure as holy hell won’t be living in a penthouse suite if I make the cut. But I sure as holy hell know that Facebook posting is not a metric of which my eligibility for eternal life will be measured. Call me crazy (and many have), but I think you have to actually be a good person, and you know, do good stuff if you want to see streets made of gold. But hey, what in the holy hell do I know. If you think blessings will come your way simply because you know how to use the buttons on your mouse or your thumbs, you’re not an idiot. You’re a drunken idiot. And I’ll take a shot of whatever you’re sippin’.
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Hate is a strong word. But I hate autocorrect when I’m texting. I understand the basic premise is to help improve communication and reduce user error. But inevitably, the converse is generally the outcome. More times than not, I just end up sending a follow up message explaining what I truly meant the first time. The number of awkward conversations created is substantial. I have no desire to use proper grammar or correct spelling when texting. This is not a thesis paper, a business email, or a letter to a foreign dignitary. For the love of all things holy, it’s a frickin’ text message. I shouldn’t have to proofread every message because my idiot phone thinks it knows what I meant. I mean what I say, and I say what I mean. And although my mother would be rolling in her grave due to my *occasional* profanity, I have absolutely no desire to go “ducking”. That’s a present participle, of whose definition I do not even know. I feel like you’re playing games with me when you change my word to that. Though I have been doubted, I really do know the difference between pacific (as in the ocean) and specific (as in certainty). I don’t mean to brag on myself, but I have actually taken (and passed) a doctorate level course in linguistics. But when I’m talking casually, I throw all of the rules out of the window. Helping verbs are vastly overrated, subject-verb agreement is optional, and slang is my default. I’m in my 2-3 zone, groovin’ to this thing we call life. And I don’t need you, Mr. Fancy Smancy iPhone, killin’ my vibe. You just do what I tell you.
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