Protected: Things That Annoy Me: Living With Retards

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

Things That Annoy Me: Poor Animal Control

It is with a depressing frequency that I see in the news stories of dog attacks on people and children, the most recent and currently famous video about being of a dog attacking a boy on a bike outside of his home in California, who was then chased off by a rather heroic cat.

The dog either has been or will soon be put to sleep. I agree with this course of action, a dog who attacks a human should be destroyed.

BUT

What I want to know is exactly WHY this dog attacked this boy. Did the boy accidentally frighten the dog? Not likely, as the dog is seen trotting calmly up and then going for his leg. So why was he bitten? Did the dog have a mental issue (Yes, retards of the internet, animals can get those too)? Or was it a simple matter or poor training and discipline?

You see, with animals, especially man’s best friend, they have to be trained. A dog who is not trained does not know his or her place in the family, or to him, the “pack”. A dog’s natural instinct is to attempt to move up the pack and become alpha, a position that should be held by a human in the family. With correct training, the dog learns his place at the bottom of the “pack” and accepts this and becomes a wonderful, loyal, loving pet.

What is apparent in the majority of dog attacks is that the animal is not properly trained. They do not know their place and as such, may become aggressive towards a human they see as the weakest, in an attempt to move upwards. Also, with poor training, and no control over the animal, the dog learns he or she can get away with all sorts, without too strict of a “punishment”. Often, with poor training, the dog does not know why they are being punished. During training, you have a second’s window to administer praise or *punishment.

Another big issue is abuse.

A dog who is hit, kicked, smacked and all sorts of other horrible things like that is given the notion that humans are mean and nasty, and will attack you without provocation. Even if you think your pooch deserves a smack for widdling in the hall, he probably doesn’t know that. He just thinks you’ve lashed out at him. As such, the dog becomes defensive and frightened all the time, because he doesn’t know when he’s going to be hit next.

When you are afraid, your natural response is to fight or flee. What happens when flight is not an option? You fight. And what happens if something, say, a wasp, comes near you? You want to run away or whap it. Wasps sting and are nasty. Kill the bugger before it hurts you. So, an abused dog who thinks a human is going to hurt it will lash out if he can’t run away.

The majority of stories concerning dog attacks generally come from a dog who is either not trained, or abused. You know those moronic chavvy cunts who get a pitbull, staffie or rottie to look “cool” or “hard”? The dog is often untrained, and because it doesn’t do what it’s told (because it doesn’t know what the words mean) it is hit or kicked out of frustration. Hence a frightened, defensive woofer. Also, this is part of the reason why lovely, loyal, gentle dogs like the aforementioned three get bad reputations.

Even the gentlest of dogs can attack if they’re frightened enough. There’s a video floating around on the internet of a news reporter interviewing a police guy with his police dog. The news reporter ignored all the signals that the dog was not enjoying being touched and was getting defensive. The reporter then leaned over the dog, and the dog bit him. The police guy was also at fault for not indicating to the reporter that the dog was not enjoying the fuss.

Stories in the news where an unfortunate child has been bitten and the owners claim “he’s never done this before, he was so gentle” are sadly frequent. The problem here lies with people not watching their kids around a strange, or even a familiar dog.

Because let’s face it. Kids are a bit daft sometimes. You can’t be expected to know something you’ve not been told, but the responsibility lies with the owners and the parents to educate the child on how to approach and fuss a dog. It’s not difficult.

Here, if you don’t know how, follow these steps.

1: If the dog is calm, ears and tail relaxed or tail wagging, you can approach (ask owner’s permission first!)

2: Hold out your hand for the dog to sniff or lick

3: Stroke the dog on the side of his neck or shoulder, moving to rub his ears and the top of his head

4: NEVER lean over the dog or bring your hand straight down to pat his head, this may frighten them, and don’t put your face too close to theirs

5: Don’t let the child hug the dog; as much as this is a sign of affection for us, dogs see it as a means of asserting dominance and don’t like it very much

6: Don’t stare the dog in the eyes, this is seen as a challenge in the dog world and it may unnerve them

7: Always watch the child with the dog. If the dog puts his ears back, widens his eyes and glares or curls his lip, or leans away, move the child away. That’s a scared dog who doesn’t want to be touched.

 

So many dog attacks could be avoided if people are able to properly train their dogs and not abuse them. Indeed, many, many attacks could be avoided if parents and owners took a bit more responsibility. The way I see it, if your child is so precious to you that you would see a neighbour’s dog destroyed because your child frightened it and was bitten, then you can take the time to educate them and yourself and avoid your child being hurt, and a dog losing its life due to the stupidity of humans.

My strongest sympathies go out to people who have been attacked by dogs or even killed, but it can be avoided.

 

*When I say punishment, I mean a way of telling the dog that what he was doing is not allowed. I do not condone the hitting of animals at all; this should be avoided at all costs. A simple short, sharp “Aa-ah!” should be sufficient to let them know they’ve done wrong. Then as soon as they have ceased with the behaviour, praise.

Things That Annoy Me: Emofags

I am sick

And I am tired

Of emofags constantly whingeing about how hard life is.

You know the ones.

The ones that sit there with steampunk hair and holes in their face, with ripped jeans and holes in their jumpers to put their thumbs through, the ones who always listen to whiney emo songs about how sad their life is, about death, about taking drugs to “make the pain go away”. The ones that always say “Why is this so hard? Why can’t life be easier? OMG I want to dieeeee… Gonna carve a heart where mine used to be…”

Oh fuck, now I think my brain’s melting.

It really, really, pisses me the fuck off. Because it’s never about something in life that’s actually hard, like a close relative dying, or anything really sad like that, no, it’s more often than not them crying over a relationshp that lasted a month finishing.

I know someone who used to go to my school who is exactly like this. She sees a guy, he smiles at her, she becomes obsessed with him, pesters him to go out with her, and within two days of the relationship starting, she’s going through his phone, his emails, and getting really fucked off if he’s flirted with a girl four weeks before he’d even met this emofag. Then, understandably, he gets annoyed and does what all men do, tey retreat for a while to sort out what’s going on in their mind, to figure out the best course of action and to chill out a bit.

But what does miss emofag do? Follows him. Clings. Won’t leave him alone. Pesters. Crys because he “doesn’t understand her” “Why don’t you love meeeeeeee?” Um, we’ve been dating a week…

So they break up. Then, for about a month, my facebook is filled with whiney emofag statuses about how hard life is, how she can’t go on, how she wants to forget but it’s so hard to let go and other similarly worded bollocks.

You know what?

Get the fuck over it.

Yeah, we’ve all been there where we’ve had a partner who we loved and it didn’t work out, and we were sad, but the majority of people with a brain who are not attention whores didn’t cry about it for months on end for the world to see, we had our sad few days, picked ourselves up, and tried to get on with our lives and remember that we don’t need a partner to be happy.

If you get the fuck over the fact that you rushed into a relationship, smothered this guy with affection, gave him absolutely everything and expected it in return, even though you barely know each other, then it turns out he’s not the unflawed mr. perfect you envisioned, he’s actually a normal guy who got spoiled by you and came to expect it (as all humans do when they’re spoiled) and actually can’t read your mind, so he doesn’t know you want a hug when you sit huffily in a corner, you end up fighting because you’re immature and niaeve, then you break up.

When you grow up and realise life isn’t a fairytale, and that there are no such things as knights in shining armour, and no such things as princesses of golden hearts, then maybe you’ll be able to have a normal relationship, and you’ll be happy.

The sad thing is, it’s understandable when 13 year old girls do this, they’ve not had a relationship and son;t know what to expect. But this girl, and all the others I know, and so many more out there in the world are in their late teens, early twenties, and are still behaving like kids.

Fucking emofags man.

Things That Annoy Me: Children

Most people around will look at a baby or child in the vicinity, and their eyes light up, they rush over and go “d’aww, look at his widdle feet! Isn’t he the most precious little creature in the whole of the world?” Or they’ll find some other feature of said child to squee over, before engaging the parent in meaningless blather about baby clothes and schools and suchlike, whatever the hell it is parents talk about. Indeed, some creepy old crones seem to have a baby sixth sense, and go slithering over to the terrified new mum to coo and caw and offer some unwanted, but probably needed advice.
I personally do not find children to be the endearing bundles of joy the world perceives them to be, I in fact find them to be utterly repulsive. Especially babies.
I’ll start with them.
Not only do babies (if you are female) leech off your body by sucking out all the nutrients that you as a human need, causing you to be exhausted, in pain from backache, tummyache, swollen ankles and stuff, unable to eat your favourite, nutritious foods because it might damage the kid, then they ruin your figure and self esteem (if you care about things like that) by making you fat and saggy, in both tummy and breast department, AND they utterly destroy your sex life for about a year. If I was a man, I wouldn’t want to be having sex with a pregnant female, because there’s a child involved too. Just yuck. And, after the woman’s pushed this watermelon sized, slimy sprog out of the most sensitive area of the body, she’s just a bit too sore for sex, because, you know, she’s had to push a watermelon out her vagina. And if it doesn’t stretch enough, it’ll tear. Like ripping cloth. If that doesn’t happen, the lovely doctor will cut your vagina open for you. While you’re conscious. nd that’s just the pregnancy/birth bit.
Ultimately, babies are noisy, leaky, smelly, spewy, shitty, selfish little fuckrats. All they care about is themselves: when they get fed, when they get changed, which person they want to barf or piss on next. Fuck everyone else; it’s the baby’s way or the highway.
Once this thing that looks like a purple potato has emerged covered in the gloop from Satan’s left nostril, it sets about wailing and shrieking and screaming. And if it doesn’t, and you’re thinking hooray! Peace and quiet! I can go to sleep and forget about the fact my vagina looks and feels like it’s been mauled by a rabid fox with a fondness for serrated knives!
Nah.
The sodding nurse gives it an almighty whap to make it holler. This noise doesn’t stop for around a year or two, depending upon when the kid learns to talk. Then it’s incessant babble, but I’ll talk about toddlers in a bit.
Aside from the screeching, the horrid little leech latches on to your tits and sucks them dry. Nothing is more disturbing to me than the thought of some little parasite draining me dry from my breasts. The very thought makes me want to walk the plank in preference. To me, someone’s mouth being anywhere near a nipple is considered to be more sexual than anything (or jokey if you’re taking stupid pictures with friends…don’t ask) so a child doing it? I can’t get my head around it. I know it’s natural and all that cack, and tits are there for babies, but that is SO not my thing. I don’t like people touching (or trying to touch) my nipples at the best of times. Just fucking yuck.
Once the rat has finished sucking you dry, leaving you lopsided (if it’s not greedy, don’t worry, it’ll drain both soon) it’ll shit itself. If it’s not done that yet, it’ll come. First, you’ll need to wind the kid to stop to getting tunnyache, like the nine months of it for you mean nothing. Guaranteed, this will result in vomit. Babies vomit a lot. I mean, at least twice a day. They seem to vomit just to annoy you. Sorry, but when I burp, I don’t puke everywhere. Even when I’m overfull with beer I rarely puke. It’s bad manners, especially for the person who’s got to clean it up. That’s you, young mother!
But yeah. Shit. Babies, like vomiting, tend to shit one hell of a lot. Expect to change your kid’s nappy about 10-12 times a day. And I don’t mean the 12 hour day you’re used to, I mean full on 24 hour day. It’s going to smell like rotten potatoes. If you don’t know what that smells like, go find a small potato, and leave it to rot in a room/cupboard you don’t go into often. When it’s rotten, go in there and have a whiff. If you haven’t thrown up, it’s not rotten.
The tot’s tush sewage will also be black, tarry and sticky. Good luck getting it out of any material you have around the house; sofas, carpets, the dog etc. You’ve got to wipe its arse (the moment when most kids decide to pee all over an unsuspecting grown up, a look of glee on its malevolent little mug) and powder it, because if you don’t, and you don’t change its nappy ASAP, you’ll have the joys of nappy rash! Hooray! More screaming from said kid. You’ll need to let the air get to its butt, so no nappies for a week, resulting in you running around with a baggie and a mop for all those little accidents.
So, ultimately, you’ll get no sleep, as when the kid’s awake, it’ll be screaming, shitting, feeding and vomiting. Sometimes all at once if you’re lucky. If you get one of those rare moments when it’s not doing any of the above, you’ve got to either give it a bath, or stimulate it with toys or speech, you know, to build a relationship. Why you wouldn’t want to build a relationship between the baby and a cliff by now is beyond me, but parents keep doing it.
Then, mercifully, the thing will go to sleep. You can sleep too!
Just kidding.
If you want to be a good parent, and have no help from anyone else (as is the case with a lot of single parents, sadly) you’ve got to keep the house clean, sterilise everything, cook your own food if you’ve got time to eat, do some shopping, sit down for a bi… Oh, the kid’s awake again. Good luck!

If by some miracle you manage to get through babyhood without committing murder or suicide, I commend you. Well done! Now come the joys of toddlerhood, or The Terrible Tantrum Extravaganza, as I like to call it.
The Sims 3 got this right, toddlers need to learn how to walk, talk and shit in a toilet instead of their pants before they become children and get ridiculed for shitting their pants and crawling about, babbling nonsense words.
So, after many falls, injuries and more screaming, your toddler can walk! Congratulations. It just makes it easier for the little fuckwit to get into trouble. The fireguard by the fire to stop the kid crawling into it? As a biped, it can lift that thing right off and get hurt. The iron lifted high out of reach of a crawling baby? On two legs, it can reach up and squish its own face because it can pull the cord down. Frying pans, books, the cat’s tail, anything that can be grabbed, will be grabbed, and if the desired item moves away, it can now be chased, leading to general chaos. Any kind of dangerous situation your kid can get into, it will get into. Children seem determined to injure themselves in as many ways as possible, as if there is some kind of competition going on at PlayGroup: Who can be the most severely hurt before we hit three years old? Extra points if you lose a limb. You’re going to have to spend every waking moment ensuring it doesn’t jump out a window or under a car or off a cliff, that it doesn’t get stuck under a bed, behind a cupboard, in the oven… At least you don’t have to carry it any more.
Now for the talking. With some luck provided that neither you nor the child are as stupid as your average chav, your child will pick up talking fairly easily, provided you do it right. The thing is, once it starts talking, it won’t stop. Imitation and irritation go hand in hand here, as the brat will attempt to say everything you do. Like a parrot, but less cute. Okay, misspoken baby words can be seen as adorable by many, but to me, it’s a source of noise I can do without. If you can’t hold an intelligent conversation with me, shut the fuck up.
Once it understands the basic concept and meaning of some important words, your little bipedal shit sack will use them only to their own advantage. “Want.” “No.” “Give me.” “Hate you.” To name just a few choice words and phrases a toddler will employ to get what it wants. Indeed, if these demands are not met, a disaster beyond imagination will occur.
It’ll throw a tantrum.
You know those times you’ve been to the supermarket/coffee shop/brothel, and some horrid little delinquent is screaming blue murder because its parent won’t give it a solid gold tippex bottle or something of the like. You look at them and think “Davy Jones, why doesn’t that inconsiderate parent shut that little brat up? I’m trying to enjoy a quiet shop/cuppa/shag here.”
The parent stands there, defeated, and gives in, ending the tantrum and trying hard not to drop kick the smug look off the horrid thing’s face as everyone in the vicinity shakes their collective heads.
Well guess what new parents! That’s you, standing there in your unwashed hair and scraggy clothes, wilting in the glares of fifty odd shoppers, enduring their mutters like heat seeking sharks and wishing you could be swallowed up into the floor (because you’d get some sleep then, at least) because your disgusting little deviant is screaming and roaring like a gorilla on fire, with a contorted look of red-faced, bug-eyed constipation rage on its warped little phizog, screeching like a banshee for all to hear, hurling itself on the ground until it gets its own way.
And you give in, don’t you? It’s so much easier to buy the chocolate or t-shirt or pony than to discipline the child, because you’re so… damn… tired. Trouble is, if you give in to tantrums, your ghastly little demon spawn will learn that by having a tantrum, it’ll get what it wants. Toys, food, whatever; at home, out and about, wherever. It’ll start doing it to your friends, if you have any left by this point. Your best girl friend has a new coat, and is trying to drink some red wine or other staining beverage? Your kid wants it? He or she will grab the glass, spilling the wine, ruining coat, carpet and friendship for life. Then it’ll scream because it got wet and didn’t get its own way.
The proper way to deal with tantrums is to ignore them. DO NOT give in, no matter how tired you are, no matter who is looking at you funny, you put down your shopping/coffee/prostitute, you go out of the establishment, do not speak to the child, you put it in the car and stand outside for a few minutes, or until it’s stopped crying. You then sit it down, get down to its level, and say you don’t want to see it behaving like that again. Then you kiss and make up. If it behaves, buy it a small treat, and say they’ve got it for being good. Alternatively, before you go out, say “If you are good, I’ll do ________” something nice. If they’re bad, they don’t get it. No matter what. Remember, tantrums and attention seeking/deliberately annoying behaviour will get worse before it gets better.
I hate kids, but I know how they work.
Toddler toileting. I don’t really need to say much, because toileting means no more shitty nappies to change, and no more trouble for you, provided your kid knows how to wipe its own arse.
And now, on to children.
My dislike of all things baby/child related decreases as the child ages, as expected. The more able they are to hold an intelligent conversation with me, the more I can put up with them. I still greatly dislike kids though, as all they seem to do is answer back, think they’re funny, don’t eat properly, play up and talk bollocks. They have no concept of danger, as no one under the age of fourteen does (this age is increasing as people become obsessed with YOLO and SWAG). They irritate the fuck out of me.
There’s not really anything more I can say about annoying kids without repeating myself. Okay, kids can be charming. Some of them are clever, and have been raised properly by their parents to be decent members of society. These kids I can deal with. Sometimes they come out with something so ridiculously stupid or insightful that it’s funny. And while children, toddlers and babies are all incredibly selfish, at least they don’t judge people for being gay, or black, or disabled.

Greenday’s Well Publicised Tantrum

So everyone’s been whining about Billie Joe throwing a wobbler at some concert or another a little while ago. Apparently, he got drunk / was on drugs / is a brat and had a bitch fit because the people in charge cut his band’s time by half an hour because Usher overran his time slot.
Wait what?
Some dickhead overran his allotted time, so they cut another artist’s time?
That, to me, is completely unfair.
Sure, BJ could have behaved with a little more decorum and had a quiet word with managers and co off stage, but to be honest, if I’d have been in that position, and had my time cut with no warning, because some ignorant, moronic dickface had been inconsiderate and stupid, I’d have thrown a wobbler too.
Concerts overrun, okay? It’s part of the damned package. Artists play with the audience and have some fun instead of just singing like a CD and being boring.
What I have a problem with is one shitface doing it and making another artist suffer for it. If they were that worried about time, they should have cut Usher off when he overran.
It seems like it’s acceptable to do it to one artist but not another. What the fuck gives? Were they worried Usher would have a tantrum and sue them or something?
I don’t know and I don’t care, but ultimately, I think Billie Joe had every right to be pissed off, and people saying he acted like an idiot have a point, but in my opinion, it’s acceptable considering the way he and his band were treated.

I’d rather listen to their music than that bollocks rap that people think is music.

Things That Annoy Me: The Cyclist Edition

I would like to think that there are few things in life that annoy me, but the truth is, as it is with many people, that nearly everything pisses me off in one way or another.

Now, these irritants are often easily dealt with, minor annoyances that can be endured, if not ignored. Things like someone putting the spoons away the wrong way round, so your hands touch the spoon head instead of the handle, the wind blowing hair into your eye, or the Kraken popping up and eating your ship. A simple, minor annoyance that can be dealt with quickly and one that has no continuing adverse effect on your day.
I know these things can build up and make a person explode, I am just as guilty as the next pirate, but most of the time, I can let it go.

But.

If there’s one thing that annoys me more than anything, it’s cyclists. Fucking. Cyclists.
I do not enjoy driving, I have never enjoyed driving. However, in this day and age one must recognise it is a necessity, and I can’t rely on my mother to continue to ferry me about everywhere. It’s immature and thoughtless on my part if I expect that. However, rather than drive, I’ll walk if I can, or get the bus. It’s a pity there’s no sea travel in the Midlands. Sucks to be a pirate in the Midlands.

Anyway, I started my university placement recently, and as amazing as it is, it’s a bitch to get to. There is no straight bus route to the location, and any driving route is fiddly and stressful. I’d been leaving the house early every day to ensure I got to work on time, however, the damned bus would always be late, condemning me to an uncomfortable and irate half hour wait in the cold while I waited for the next connecting bus.

ANYWAY.

The point I’m trying to make is, seeing as the busses are useless (I’m looking at you, Stagecoach X17), and ridiculously priced, I decided to take the car today. Plus I had my laptop and I’m lazy and didn’t want to carry it.

I left with two hours to spare to avoid rush hour traffic. Two hours. Two, fucking hours for what should be a fifteen minute journey. The reason for this? Rush hour had already started at half seven in the fucking morning, and there was an abundance of

CYCLISTS

They. Were. Everywhere.

In the middle of the road, not moving over, having no consideration for other road users or pedestrians, nope! They just went weaving all over the place, making sure to slow right down on the corners so all people with respect for human life had to slam on the brakes and trundle along behind them at four miles an hour, unable to overtake.

Even when I pipped my horn at some bastard who thought it would be funny to cycle in the gutter, turn and see me coming and scoot out into the middle of the road, he didn’t fucking move. I swear, I’ll run the bastards down, the filthy landlubbers. If only you could keelhaul people with cars.

It just pisses me off beyond comparison, how these twats can be so inconsiderate and risk their own lives with abject stupidity. If a three tonne metal box on wheels comes roaring up behind you, you get the fuck out of the way. If you’re walking in the road, you move over, because you don’t want to get squashed. Why can’t these imbeciles just move over to the side of the road, or even better, stop to let traffic past?

Okay, I understand that it’s not possible all the time to stop, you could be in a rush, or something like that, but if a long line of cars, or just one car, is behind you, unable to overtake due to windy roads or whatever, pull the fuck over and let them past. Has it ever occurred to you that they could be in a rush? Some of these arseholes don’t even move over for emergency vehicles. “Nope, I’m a cyclist, they can go around me and all other traffic can move, but I don’t have to”.

Consider this.

That extra twenty seconds it cost that ambulance to get around you meant that somebody died.

The bloody cheek of it all is that cyclists think that drivers are the ones to blame! Sure, you’ll get moronic chavs and YOLO/SWAG type oxygen thieves who drive like lunatics, but the majority of drivers actually slow down on the roads, because hey, they don’t want to kill someone.
And what happens when a cyclist is weaving around like a drunk bluebottle and gets hit by a car coming around the corner at night? Despite the fact they’re not wearing high-visibility clothing or a helmet? It’s all the driver’s fault. Even if they did everything they could to avoid a collision, they’re still the ones at fault. It’s fucking ridiculous.

Even when I’m a pedestrian I can’t get away from them! Cycling on the pavement (which admittedly, I prefer to the road, but hear me out) and, as with the road, charging along slap bang in the middle of it, running old ladies down and sending small children flying off across the street in a one way trip to a coma. Even when I try to cross the road they’re not paying attention to red lights, and go haring off into traffic or people. I saw one son of a pile of pig shit catch an old man’s arm with his handlebars, causing the poor bloke to fall over, and the cyclist paused only to shout at him for getting in the way, then cycled off! I ask you.

(The old man was okay, just shaken, but that’s not the point)

You know, if they actually paid to use the roads like the rest of us did, and had licence plates on their bikes to identify them, maybe I wouldn’t have a problem. Maybe then, cyclists would be a bit more respectful of other drivers, knowing that when they act like twats on the road, they can get into just as much trouble as a car user.

And before all you cyclists out there reading this flip your shit, I KNOW there are people out there who do obey the rules of the road, and who are considerate to drivers, but I am yet to see one. I’m sick of being late for work/school/university/appointments because some selfish cockblast thinks he can own the road on his teeny tiny metal frame of piss.

The annoying thing? They totally do. Car drivers are too afraid of hitting the cunt and suffering to do what they deserve, play car hockey and punt the little spunk monkey into a ditch.