Parents Please STOP! You and Your Child Are NOT a Special Snowflake

I love STFU Parents Blog I may have posted things as a parent in the past that are considered overshare  But honestly, nothing as bad as some of the things I’ve seen up there. Some of those posts, whether it’s crazy mommyjacking, or a picture of somebody’s hoohah wide open until you can look up the canal and see the baby’s living room, are just super insane.

Speaking of insane, I give you this link:

Yeah. If you feel that this okay, I’d like to come to your house and poop at your dining room table. I swear I’ll be quick and clean it up right afterwards.

I’m so confused… do I eat here or go potty?

Because this is what these privileged parents did. They changed their child’s diaper in an eating/drinking area, had a hissy frackin fit when they were told to clean up. And then threw their coffee on the ground because the workers there were so rude!

I hate people.

Seriously, there is one thing I really can’t stand in the world, and that is privileged parents that think that their children are gods and should be allowed to do whatever they want, whenever they want. If little Bobby decides to come to your house and murder your cat “while playing” you shouldn’t be pissed. He’s just precocious!

This isn’t exactly that situation, but why do you think other restaurant goers want your baby’s potty particles all up in their nose and mouth? I don’t want to smell my own bathroom mess, let alone your child’s stanky Similac behind.

A friend asked the question if I was against breast-feeding in public too?

No. NO. Two VERY different things!

Feeding makes sense because guess what? You are in a restaurant! Everyone should eat. Whip out your giggles and feed your monster baby.

But, how does the saying go? You don’t sh** where you eat, and neither should your spawn.

My monster teen, when he was a little nuisance, had complete blowouts whenever he went in his diaper.  As a young parent I got peed and number 2’d on. Just think if I was the parents in the story above changing one of THOSE diapers in a public place where people are eating and drinking. Yeah, that turns my stomach too.

Take that changing pad back to the bathroom with no changing table and lay it on your lap in a stall, or lay your child on the floor or sink. Take your monster out to your car and change their diaper.  Do not make this an accidental scat or golden shower moment while I am sipping my latte.

And frack Starbucks for apologizing. You are just allowing these kind of idiots to continue to act this way.

Makes me wish that there was a law that you couldn’t have children unless you passed a common sense and common decency questionnaire. I swear, it would cut down on welfare lingerers. And parents that think children should be worshiped.

We need… Willy Wonka.



Is that Your HooHah Hair?! Weird Office Living Pet Peeves

Random things irritate me. If you’ve read other posts of mine, you’ve realized that. But today, little things in the office seemed to combine and transform themselves like Voltron into a day of constant irritation. Soooo, onto the list of things that for some reason drive me batty at work:

1. Restroom Light Warriors.

Okay, look, I know we need to practice light conservation and all, but there are 3 stalls in the restroom closest to my office, and students and staff constantly going in and out all throughout the day (not my ninja restroom: see here: About 3 times a week, I walk in and someone has turned off the light. Why does this bother me? Because I’ve watched enough weird and scary movies that I expect to find a dead body. Most likely a student of mine, after I’ve told them why they suck.

2. Over the Shoulder Ninjas.

I used to have a real office, with a door and all at my last office. Now I have a cubicle. And I absolutely HATE people who like to sit there and look over your shoulder for a while before they let you know they are there. It doesn’t matter if I’m doing work, or reading an article on why the Song of Ice and Fire series is sexist. I have deployed multiple times and I may become violent at any time. And since I’m sitting, you may get punch in your twig or hoo-hah. Keep messing with me -_-

3. Bubble breakers.

Seriously, if we are really cool, by all means sit close to me. I still may say that you are in my frackin personal space. But if I don’t know you all that well, why the frack are we within kissing distance of each other?! I mean face on! Turn to the side or something so I don’t feel like I’m getting breath particles. I don’t know where your mouth has been. I’m a smoker, so I know better than to waft my smoky breath right at people. But unless you are brushing after every meal, dude, I don’t need to see your leftover meal on your teeth in 4d.

4. Toilet Shedders.

Oh my god, the many NSFW work photos I went through by typing in pubic hair. WTF was I thinking?

Okay yes, I have a serious issue with restroom everything it seems. But have you ever went into a stall, about to sit down and see secret lady fur atop the seat? *Shudder* I mean, I may trim the lady bush, but any straggler hair goes down the shower drain. Why are the ladies shedding like my cat sheds on my carpet?! And why are you not at least trimming that bad boy between your legs, because that hair is LONG. I mean, are you growing out an afro? Planning to get dreads with beads all dangling? Why are they falling out all over the toilet? Are you balding down there? I really don’t like focusing on other women’s ladies parts, but this is becoming a huge concern for me.

Other than that, I really like my office. The people are really weird just like me. But I swear if this Pubic Conspiracy continues I will take photos and post pics saying “Have You seen the Owner of these curlies? Please come and pick them up in Stall 3.

First World Female Problems: Girls Don’t Poop

This is going to be a pretty “crappy” post… Hehe.

See, most guys are all fart jokes and poopy humor right? Or is that just mostly military guys? Anyway, women are opposite. Mostly, until we’re like old as dirt and smell like mothballs and baby powder anyway, we don’t want you to know we fart. Or have to poop. We don’t even want other women to hear us (unless we’re drunk. Whole new ballgame right). So, it’s an issue when the need comes and you work in a big office. It’s even more irritating as a teacher of adults. Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t want to have to use a stall next to my students I was just teaching, especially if I have to number 2. And then see them as I come out to wash my hands. Huuuuumiliating!

So it becomes a search for the empty bathroom for ninja pooping. The bathroom that’s a little out-of-the-way, so usually it’s empty when you sneak in to do the business. Half the time the light is off when you walk in, which makes me a little paranoid that I’ll find a dead student sitting on the potty. Morbid, and weird, but you should know by now that there is no way I can control the wtf-ness that runs through my brain. I just tell my brain that I’ll sit back and let it go crazy… Because it’s just easier than arguing with that heffa.

Anyway, for the time I’ve worked in my office, when I’ve got the BG’s (bubble guts), I can always take care of my business quietly and with skill so no one knows that dimensionthe5th is having a craptastic day. But all things fall apart, and of course I had the most traumatic experience on a day where I shouldn’t have had dairy (lactose intolerant), shouldn’t have taken my fiber pills, and just should have held it in or something. But none of those things happened, and as I walked in, one of the nicest most well-known janitors was coming in to put up supplies. I said frack it because I think she’s going to be right in and out. But then, the senior enlisted servicemember, the boss of bosses walks in. I know because she greets the janitor. And they are talking happily… Until I can hold it back no more! I swear its like a sewage trumpet orchestra. It sounds like one of those situations where you’re not sure if someone had just pooped out their intestines, their soul, and maybe their brain too. Oh god. All I could do was sit there. No way in Hello was I leaving out that stall to see them looking at me like “You nasty mofo!”

So I waited until they left. And ninja-ed back to my office, hoping that somehow if I wasn’t seen for a few days the loud pooper in the bathroom would seep from their minds and be flushed. I’ve also made sure to start searching for a new “perfect” bathroom.

Of course, maybe it’s just all in my mind and no other woman goes through ninja pooping.