Mint Chocolate Chip Beatles.

“The sun is out; the sky is blue; it’s beautiful and so are you” Dear Prudence, The Beatles. A band worthy of tribute.

The universe as a whole has been sucking lately. The media does nothing but saturate us with bad news, images of destruction, rednecks talking about tea all of the time, really rich skanky “celebrities” with nothing else to do but exist and be on tv for acting vile. I get it. It’s everywhere.

There is a shit ton of stuff happening and I for one am one of those people who just try to put out as much joy and productivity as possible. It’s hard, and I don’t always succeed but I try. So this post isn’t going to be about life’s difficulties or my personal issues with raising a family and working my ass off. Nope. Not today. Today, I am going to go literary ninja on a few people because I have some vibes that need to be released. I don’t feel that karma will get back with me on this one because I feel I am doing the world some good by calling these fuckfaces out because they.should.be.ashamed of themselves.

1. If you work a steady job for a firm with stability and revenue, please do not bitch that it’s too cold in your office. Wear a sweater. When you complain that it’s too cold in your office, you are only making it sadder to learn that someone forgot their 85 year old grandmother in her dusty old apartment in 95 degree heat and she died. Actually, it was probably your grandmother. Bring a sweater. Dress in layers. Thank whoever you want to thank that you aren’t sweating your balls off digging your dead grandmother’s grave. Fuck you.

2. When the building that you work in wants to show you appreciation for working in their building, for free, have some fun. I can think of 100 people who would love a free ice cream sundae and to sit by the river listening to a live band during their work day in air conditioned offices. There is nothing tacky about it. And for you to sit and commiserate with another one of your fuckheadlings and declare just how tacky it is, is pretty fucking tacky. What kind of world do you come from where you can honestly look deep into your soul, assuming you have one, and openly say that you think that free ice cream and music is not good enough for you? I know that people have different tastes, and I don’t judge. I mean, if you were lactose intolerant and got inappropriately touched by a weird uncle while listening to a cover band, I wouldn’t be mad at you for having this reaction. But you didn’t.

You actually said that “No one in New York would ever do that.” Well, I cannot speak for all of New York, but I hardly think they would all turn their nose up to music and frozen dairy treats. Really. They brought the Statue of Liberty to life with their collective joy in Ghostbusters 2. They are capable of happiness. If I weren’t absolutely pissed off at your ugliness right now, I would feel sorry for you to be so miserable. Eat some saturated fat and get laid. Oh yeah, and fuck you.

The truth is that everyone, every day, since the beginning of time, has had to trudge through shit to be able to enjoy a bit of happiness. Some more than others. And if I am one of those people who had to trudge a bit more, and suffer a bit more, and work a bit more, only to truly enjoy free ice cream and music in my air conditioned office, then that’s me. I am tacky trash. I am not lactose intolerant. I love bad music, and the people who make it.

Nothing could ever defrost people like you. Not even me, and you make my blood boil.

Bebe

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