- People who advise you to “embrace failure.” Probably good advice, but if I’ve heard it once, I’ve heard it ten thousand times. We get it: Embrace Failure. Let’s move on already. Extra demerits: You have opinions on other completely played-out topics like management vs. leadership and how to optimize your LinkedIn profile.
- People who say “Can I put you on hold for a moment?” and then immediately put me on hold without giving me a chance to sigh ostentatiously and say “If you must.”
- Full-grown adults who tell you how sexually attracted they are to an actor or actress in a movie. Extra demerits: You invent your own fawning vocabulary with words like “droolworthy.” Your ability to be sexually aroused by a fantasy on a movie screen doesn’t enhance my opinion of you at all. Try maintaining a relationship in real life with someone who’s no more attractive than you are, lover boy (or girl).
Notes from the Golden Orange
EppsNet Archive: People I’m Sick Unto Death Of
It’s not very romantic, first of all. Did Romeo and Juliet marry their best friend? Did Liz and Dick marry their best friend? Did Scott and Zelda marry their best friend? Did Rhett and Scarlett marry their best friend?
A married person has to fill so many roles already: husband/wife, parent, sex partner, wage earner, handyman, cook, mental health professional, grammar coach, etc., etc., etc. A little help on the best friend front would be a welcome breath of fresh air.
I don’t know who my wife’s best friend is and I don’t care, as long as it’s not me. Men: if you need a best friend, buy a dog.
People who “weigh in” on things rather than minding their own business . . .
People who post love letters to their spouse on Facebook:
I’m a fairly smart guy. I’ve done smart things and dumb things. But by far, the smartest thing I ever did was 32 years ago today: I married [wife’s name]. I knew she was beautiful, smart, fun, and kind.
And pregnant. You left out “pregnant.” And that she has a father with a Sicilian code of ethics who was not going to let his daughter give birth out of wedlock.
What I’ve learned over the years is that she is all those and so much more. My wife is loyal, strong, persistent, faithful, courageous, generous . . .
Congratulations, you married a Boy Scout!
. . . and a person of great integrity. Additionally, she’s a gifted musician.
Oh come on, everyone knows that’s not true. She’s not even as good as me and I’m a complete phony.
At 24, I had no idea what a wonderful person I was going to spend my life with. Now at 56, I’m starting to get it . . . a little. Happy Anniversary, [wife’s name]. I love you!
Who is the target audience for this stuff? If you have something to say to your wife, say it to your wife.
Additional demerits if the love letter is a mishmash of trite sentiments that could have been written by anyone about anyone.
- Men who schedule haircut appointments, especially men who schedule haircut appointments for weekday afternoons.
- Men who use the word “diva” in reference to their cat.
- Celebrities showing off their post-baby bodies
- Anyone who asks for privacy by issuing a press release through their publicist
- Anyone with a go-to karaoke song
Brain cancer patients are worse than vegetarians — meddling busybodies telling everyone else how to live their lives.
Ever since Brittany Maynard announced her intention to end her own life, brain cancer patients have been coming out of the woodwork to tell her that she has no right to do that (see here, here, here and here).
Some people don’t want to die the kind of lingering death that exhausts the emotional and financial resources of their loved ones. In fact, I think most people don’t, but I think most people with a terminal illness imagine themselves dying a kind of radiant death like people with terminal illnesses in movies. By the time reality sets in, the dying person is past knowing or caring.
“In paths untrodden,” as Walt Whitman marvelously put it. “Escaped from the life that exhibits itself . . .” Oh, that’s a plague, the life that exhibits itself, a real plague!
Who the heck is Olivia Wilde and why is there a photo all over the Internet of her breastfeeding an infant in a restaurant booth? I mean, not a surreptitious candid photo of her discreetly breastfeeding. A posed photo! In a designer dress!
(I’m not posting or linking to the photo. If you haven’t already seen it, I’m sure you can find it.)
Well it’s a natural function, breastfeeding — right? Yeah, but there are a number of natural functions that need not be performed in public and photographed.
The life that exhibits itself . . . what a plague indeed.
Maya Angelou received quite a few honorary doctoral degrees in her lifetime and elected for some reason to refer to herself as Dr. Maya Angelou, despite not having an earned doctoral degree and despite, to my knowledge, never attending college at all.
Many famous people are given honorary doctorates by universities but thank god they don’t all go around referring to themselves as, say, Dr. Arnold Schwarzenegger, Dr. Mike Tyson, Dr. Glenn Beck, etc., etc., etc.
I’m also sick unto death of people who quote insipid thoughts from Maya Angelou as profundities, particularly if they refer to her as Dr. Maya Angelou when doing so.
People who say “I don’t take myself too seriously.”
Let people make up their own minds about whether you take yourself too seriously. If you think anyone’s interested in your reflective insights about yourself, then you take yourself too seriously.
You beat cancer by how you live, why you live, and in the manner in which you live.
Ugh. Sickening. Millions of people fighting cancer and he’s the one guy who’s figured out how to fight it the right way.
Like a lot of people, we have an immediate family member who had cancer, and like a lot of people, she battled it bravely, quietly, with humanity and dignity, and without any expectation of receiving an award, which she didn’t get. Unlike Stuart Scott, she never told anyone about all the unpleasant medical procedures she had to undergo and she never presented herself as a model for how life should be lived under difficult circumstances.
Fuck this guy.
I’m hearing on the radio this morning that Stuart Scott received something called the Jimmy V Perseverance Award at the ESPYs last night . . .
Who knew you could get an award for having cancer? I am exhausted by sports people, media people, entertainment people, sports media entertainment people sucking each other’s dicks.
Stuart Scott and people like Stuart Scott have killed my enjoyment of sports with their endless self-promotional bullshit while I’m trying to watch highlights. I hate sports and it’s all because of Stuart Scott. And now he gets an award for having cancer.
Everyone unfortunately has family members and/or friends who get cancer and battle it to the best of their abilities without receiving a goddamn award. It’s insulting to all of those people to give someone an award for having cancer and it’s doubly insulting to accept an award for having cancer.
I have come to bear witness! I have faced my own mortality. I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat and snicker.
Yes, you and 1.7 million other people diagnosed with cancer every year in the U.S alone.
I am exhausted with people putting their lives on display based on a delusion about their own uniqueness and importance. Oh what a plague.
Fuck Stuart Scott.
Because I changed jobs recently, I want to roll over a 401k into an IRA. I filled out the form, mailed it in to Great West Retirement Services — they manage the 401k — and got this in return:
The enclosed benefit request is being returned for additional and or missing information. We require the following item(s) be completed before processing can take place:
- Please have this request completed on the attached current version of the distribution form. The form this request was submitted on is now discontinued.
OK, first of all, the form isn’t being returned for additional or missing information. I filled out the form I was given and you’re telling me it’s now discontinued. You can’t figure it out anyway? You really need me to fill out ANOTHER 6-PAGE FORM with EXACTLY THE SAME INFORMATION in a slightly different format?!
And I love this part: “Please have this request completed . . .” I DON’T HAVE SOMEONE WHO COMPLETES FORMS FOR ME! I HAVE TO DO IT MYSELF, YOU FUCKING PRICKS!
The worst thing you can do to people, aside from physical injury, is give them the idea to blame their failures on vague impersonal forces or the actions of anybody but themselves. It doesn’t promote success or happiness. I don’t know any happy people who think like that.
For example, I read this in a New York Times article about an impoverished area of West Virginia:
John got caught up in the dark undertow of drugs that defines life for so many here in McDowell County.
That is just awful. I live in Southern California, not too far from the ocean . . . I’m familiar with undertows (although I’ve never heard of a “dark” undertow). First of all, sorry to be pedantic but undertows aren’t dangerous . . . they’re just after-effects of individual waves. What’s dangerous is a riptide . . . a concentrated flow of water that can jet you offshore in a matter of seconds.
Maybe John got caught in a riptide of drugs.
Some beaches post signs warning swimmers of riptides on high-risk days, but in general, getting caught in a riptide is an unfortunate but unavoidable event. Drug abuse is optional. It’s a decision you make about your life.
(I’m assuming here that no one sticks a funnel in your mouth and pours drugs into it against your will . . .)
People who attribute the cause of their own actions to
- vague impersonal forces
- their condition, diagnosis, personal or psychological history
- the actions of others
- gender roles, social roles or age roles
- uncontrollable impulses
Anyone who “speaks out,” “opens up,” “breaks their silence” or “sounds off.”
I had a friendship with [Donald Sterling], so for him to then make these alleged comments about myself … there’s no place in our society for it. — Magic Johnson
There’s no place in our society for what? For people who say, “Don’t post pictures of Magic Johnson on Instagram”?
I say there’s no place in our society for affected morons who use intensive pronouns (“myself”) in place of personal pronouns (“me”).
Someone made a cutting remark about a friend behind their back? Absolutely shocking! If everyone knew what their friends say about them behind their back, civilized society would collapse.
Grow up, you simpleton . . .
People who hijack the occasion of another person’s death to offer up long-winded tributes – to themselves:
“My fondest memory of the deceased is the time many years ago when he fixed me with his penetrating gaze and, in that intense manner of speaking he had that brooked no dissension, he told me how great I am. What an inspiring moment! Blah blah blah . . . me me me . . .”
Thank you, Professor Pompous.
If you don’t know me and I don’t know you, don’t call me up and shout, “Hey Paul! It’s Zach Flack with Equity Staffing!” as though I might have been sitting by the phone thinking “Wouldn’t it be a little slice of heaven if I got a call from Zach Flack over at Equity Staffing?”
If I don’t know you, but I might recognize your name, then possibly some heightened level of emotion is warranted, e.g., “Hey Paul! It’s Bill Gates with Microsoft!” or “Hey Paul! It’s Pope Francis at the Vatican!”
Otherwise, tone it down and stop annoying people.