Phone etiquette

So we all know that Fatass has some serious verbal abuse issues when talking to Bess on the phone. What I never expect is Bess giving me attitude just because Fatass isn't there to take her call. Granted, I get why she's pissed. Fatass is probably off porking Bitchface in a dirty basement, and Bess isn't happy about it. I understand. And the other big problem is that Bess is just a hint above the age of consent, so she doesn't know any better. Fatass is her sweetheart while she was in high school (even though he was in college when they started dating). So she's got these rose colored glasses on and he's just fucking with her. However, don't shoot the messenger, bitch.

Honestly, I haven't seen much of Fatass today, aside from 10 minutes after I got back from dinner. He had his shirt off and started talking to me after I had my headphones on. However, Bitchface wasn't there, so the Trifecta of Annoyance was not complete. Anyway, he left to go do some stupid thing, so it's actually been a pretty Fatass free day. However, I still feel rage bottling up inside. I must really have issues, but I'm going to do the healthy thing that millions of Americans do every day and let it out on somebody else. It's only natural, right? Bess does it to me when I answer the phone, so I'm gonna let out my rage on another person that should have his body dragged through the streets of Rome.

I have no fucking clue why, but I am Facebook friends with a highly annoying excuse of a person who seems to think that his minor accomplishments are stuff of the gods and he should have his feet kissed for them. As a part of his Facebook bio, he proudly states that he was the "Valedictorian of Senior Magazine Sales" at his high school. I am not making this up.

I'm tempted to write on his wall and say, "Hey, Mr. Self-Important Bag of Shit Nobody Cares About! I think of your senior magazine sales on the same level as the latest guy or guys the Kardashians are banging." For those of you who are wondering, I don't give a flying fuck about either.

Nobody freaking cares about high school, not even high school professionals. Now, before I get angry comments and emails saying that I don't understand the rigors of the high school teachers in Big State, let me tell you this. I know enough about public education to see someone get pushed through if it's needed. I've seen enough "star athletes who struggle just a wee bit" get forced through trig and calculus just so that they can get their diploma and then the big scholarship so that they can go to a big school and put tiny little East Bumfuck on the map as the Hometown of Joe Beercan. I've also seen enough shit go down in guidance counselors' offices to be shocked and appalled at the way transcripts are treated. I've seen situations where transcripts weren't sent out at all because, "Oops, I forgot." That's not to say that there aren't dedicated, caring individuals working in public education. It's that the great majority of them don't give a shit.

Anyway, back to our original tangent. The only people that care about high school are college admissions offices, and even then, they don't care about high school if you're transferring in. If you're a freshman, they don't even care if you were the "valedictorian of senior magazine sales". All they care about are SAT and ACT scores, your high school GPA, and they want to see that you did a few extracirriculars just to make sure you weren't just twiddling your dick for four years.

So here's the deal, Mr. Facebook Fuckhead. Do something notable in college aside from making minor things into delusionally earth shattering life events. Maybe get a hobby or stop masturbating into condoms and go get laid for real. No, on second thought, I take that back. People of your breed should not be permitted to spill your seed into the gene pool.

Yeah, I'm probably being hypocritical right now. I'm probably not giving people the proper consideration to make fair decisions. Hell, I'll be the first to tell you that I make things out to be a big deal, but not on this scale. You don't see me bragging on Facebook with the accomplishment, "Biggest Dump in Pissy Household, 2008".

And now guess who's back in the room. He's now laying on his bed "studying", but is really talking to himself and humming to himself. Oh, and yeah. He took his shirt off right after walking in the door, so don't even bother asking. Today just keeps getting better and better.