Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Me, Being Mean

My mom just sent me an email with the subject line, "Me, Being Mean." I think that is awesome. Wicked awesome, in fact, and I think we should all do it, today. Just take a moment to appreciate ourselves being mean.

Now, because I am not a genuinely mean person, just a kinda mean person, I would never broadcast what my mother included in her email. Likewise, I would never use this world wide platform to snark on people I know, people who know me, or people who don't have people to tell them that I'm just an idiot and to not take it seriously. But I love the snark.

So, the rules of Me, Being Mean:
1. You may only be mean to groups of people or really, really famous people who would never be caught dead reading the blog of a woman who doesn't even own Jimmy Choo's.
2. You may NOT be mean to people based on race, religion, ethnicity, sexual orientation or anything else that's going to piss me off. Example: It's fine to be mean to, say, people who think black and navy match. It's not fine to be mean to Catholics. Okay? Okay.
3. I will be wielding my lordship over this post with an iron hand. If you are too mean, mean to the wrong people or just look at me funny, I will delete your comment. I may or may not send you an email explaining why.
4. This really works best if you are mean about mean people. It assuages your guilt.

Okay, mine:
1. People who think that Shiloh Jolie Pitt is somehow abused by wearing boys clothes: Here's the deal, people. Trying to choose clothing for a three, four or five year old is like trying to dress a pig. If they don't want to wear it, they won't. Brynna went through a period where she refused to wear pants. It was horrific. I would trade it in a nanosecond for a period where she wanted to dress like a boy. You know why? Because boys can climb on crap without showing their panties. They can crawl around on the ground with fabric between the ground and them. They are warm in the winter. Their clothes wash better. I could do this all day. In short, if the kid is wearing nothing but jeans, smile and nod, smile and nod. If you think that girls should wear pink, ruffly things all the time, fine. Dress your girl that way, if you can. But let me assure you, that's why Brynna would only wear skirts, because it's a guaranteed fact that your kids will want to wear whatever you don't want them to wear.

2. People who think that Suri Cruise is somehow abused by wearing heels: See above.

3. People who look at you mean for singing in the car: Okay, dude. My window is up. I'm rockin' out. I know how I look. I look ridiculous. I am the queen of the weirdos here. But, you know what, it's cool, because as soon as my kid gets in the car, I won't even be allowed to WHISPER the lyrics, so I'm rockin' in the free world while it's free. You, you can't hear me. You have no control over me. Quit looking at me like that or I will roll down the widow and crank the Kid Rock and do my absolute worst white girl dance at you. Don't tempt me.

4. People who make fun of me for talking with my hands: Yes, yes, in fact, if you tied my hands down, I would be mute. Thanks for asking. If I took away your asshat card, would you be mute?

5. People who give me the stinkeye for bringing storebought cookies to the pot luck: Hey, yeah, I get it. I could have stayed up all night making homemade cookies. I could have. I would have, except that something in my life has to be simple, so had I done that, me and my entire family would have come to this thing in our PJ's. That's right, no one gets dressed without me. My husband will dress himself, but you better believe that he asked me eight times what to wear today, but not in time for me to get anything specific clean for him, so that mismatched outfit he's sportin'? Only partially my fault. And my oldest? She's capable of dressing herself and I did not pick out that ridiculous Madonna-esque ensemble, but she hasn't dressed herself since the baby came. I doubt seriously if she will dress herself until Maren learns to. Hey, you know, just three more years or so. No, I'm not crying? Why would that make me cry? I can't wait to dress an 8 year old.

Okay, so please, be mean in the comments. Just not too mean. Remember, I'm watching.


Steve said...

This is SO going over your head, but Carlos Tevez. I don't mind he deserts our team after claiming to love the fans. I don't mind him being a money-grabbing mercenary. What I mind is him trying to play the victim when he turned down what for most people would be a fortune and then calling a player who is a devoted servant of his club a "boot-licker". Some people just have no class.

Sorry, I'm not great at being mean either. I'll try harder next time.

Jessi said...

You're right. Totally beyond me, but I understand the sentiment!

Jenn-Jenn, the Mother Hen said...

May I be mean about dipshit mothers who scream obscenities at you for daring to make her thieving son give back the cell phone he stole, then turn around and imply that her son is the victim, and point out that I, in my *oh-so-privileged* white-bitch existence (oh, yeah, I'm SOOOO freakin' privileged!), am the reason why society has forced her son into a life of crime? May I be mean about how said mother threw a conniption fit because someone dared to speak sternly to her son about his asshat thieving ways, then goes on about how she's going to beat the shit out of him for what he did? May I, please oh please? Oh, wait, I just did. Does that count as an okay way to be mean, or did I use too many profanities? ;-)

Jessi said...

It made me smile, so I shall allow it.

Jenn-Jenn, the Mother Hen said...

Thank you. It was fun being mean and snarky!

Strangeite said...

O.K., we are a about a month late, but that should make no difference.

The tradition of Festivus begins with the Airing of Grievances. I got a lot of problems with you people! And now, you're gonna hear about it.

First, the parents down the street that give their 3 year old a bottle (not a sippy cup, but a bottle) full of R.C. Cola should be locked in a closet with a Lost fan that has just shot up with speed.

Second, the idiots that call into the idiotic Sue Wylie show that complain that the "Govment needs to get out their biznes and stop telling them what they can't do" but feel that the government needs to stop homosexuals from getting married or serving in the military should be forced to take a basic course in logic. Then deported.

(I know I am breaking the rules, but oh well. Feel free to delete this comment) Third, if there there is NOT a special place in Hell for the morons that I know that litter habitually because they KNOW that the Rapture is going to happen any day now and so it doesn't matter what they do to the environment.... Well, I don't know what I will do, but I will be plenty pissed.

I could go on and on, but I am sure that I running into the word count limit for this comment.

Suze said...

People who drive really big, loud trucks - slash - sports cars with extra exhaust pipes to make them even louder and accelerate right as they are passing up your little tin can car on the highway. Every time that happens I want to shout "HEY BUDDY, IS THAT MONSTROUS VEHICLE YOU'RE DRIVING COMPENSATING FOR SOMETHING?"

Orlandel Creations said...

Every time I'm driving along and suddenly some little (usually junky) car comes flying up beside me blasting their crappy music so loud it makes my change rattle on the console I just want to pull out a gun and blast their speakers (which probably cost more than the car!) into the next state. Unfortunately, I am too ladylike and civilized to anything like that....

Mrs. Allroro said...

One of my first times driving alone to work, I was on my way to a four way intersection. Well, a little red sports car came down across mine and another lane into the next lane and into a parking lot, about 20 miles over the speed limit, into oncoming traffic, you see. And then later after I had made it through the intersection (heart rate a tad higher), I saw the same car about a half mile ahead speeding along on his way. That was scary. He was mean to do that.

I can be mean, too, but I can't think of anything right now. This story seemed relevant anyway.

Becca said...

Sue Wylie is still alive? She was frakkin' old when I was my son's age.

My moment of tardy meanness: Hollywood women shooting up with Botox, injecting ass fat into their lips, and who-knows-what else they do in pursuit of vanity. Do they honestly think it looks good? Candace Bergen and Jessica Lange finally succumbed to it and it broke my heart. It makes me not like HDTV. It makes me feel so sorry for them that they lack the self-confidence to age gracefully and pisses me off that yet another generation of young women will have even more ridiculous standards of "beauty" to uphold.

Don't get me started on Heidi Montag. That vapid egotistical moron does not exist in my universe except for my time spent watching The Soup.

Jessi said...

Yes, Sue Wylie is pure evil, and as such, can never die.

I agree with you wholeheartedly. I can't hardly stand to look at celebrity women anymore, they seem so plastic and unreal. It's not beautiful. Flesh is beautiful. Barbie skin is not.