Are They Still Killing Me, Smalls?

I’ve spewed a lot of pent-up frustration, soft-core hate, hard-core sarcasm, and obscenities over the past two semesters. I’ve targeted a lot of people and called out a lot of things in this world that really purples my nurples. As far as I’m concerned, all of this anger was well deserved. It’s possible I hurt a few feelings along the way. It’s possible that my mother went from complementing my writing in the beginning and showing her coworkers to instead saying that my columns were “sassy” and disapproving of my making an unbeatable ratio out of Lance Armstrong’s career Tour de France titles to number testicles. But seriously, no one’s going to beat it.

In all fairness, however, I want to give all those I’ve targeted, all those I’ve insulted, and all those that I’ve disapproved of a second chance. People change. People make mistakes and they correct them. As proof that we all do, I’m willing to say that I made a typo in that last sentence. You know what I did about it? I corrected it. And in hopes that I’m not the only one that does right by my errors, I’m willing to take a look back, and consider if maybe I was a bit too harsh.

The News: Ok, news, I was pretty hard on you. You tell me things I don’t care about, you plaster the headlines with things that are unimportant. I really don’t care that Tiger Woods inability to keep it in his pants has become a medical term (“sex addiction”), but in your defense, some people may come to the Suffolk Voice in search of legitimate news and what do they find? This. Now you’re not out of the Woods yet, News, but I believe in you. There are people out there reporting things that matter, and I’m convinced you can be one of them.

Status: Step up your game, Smalls.

Donna Simpson: Donna, I was pretty unkind when it came to your decision to try and become the fattest woman in the world. And it’s because you deserved every obese, blubbery word of it. That column I wrote about you had 1,075 words, which in caloric terms is a light snack for you. I would say it’s almost a definite that you employ the “Do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do” style of parenting to your young daughter, but the problem is that you say you would love to weigh over 1,000 pounds and have to shit your pants for the rest of your life. Well shit away, Donna. Shithead.

Status: You’re killing me, as well as yourself, Fatty.

Employers: Alright, Employers. Maybe when I hit you with that rant to end all rants full of white hot rage I went a bit too far. It’s also possible that I destroyed all chances of obtaining an occupation related to my major after I graduate. But you know what? I still don’t have a damn job. Thankfully I did get a call from a guy on Wall Street yesterday that wanted me to join his Welt Department though. I think he was attempting to say “wealth.” So I take it back, Employers. Yes, I do have a bit of a rambunctious side, but that’s not who I am. I hold the door open for the person behind me and help elderly people more fragile than myself carry heavy luggage up flights of stairs that one time in Hynes. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry. I know how to be professional, and I’m a hard worker. But I swear to god, if I get one more call from College Pro telling me that I would be a great fit for a marketing position I’m going to punch a baby.

Status: I’m killing my job opportunities, but you should hire me anyway…Smalls.

Inclement Weather Habits: I almost had to tuck and roll to avoid getting eye gouged by an umbrella yesterday.

Status: We’re going to umbrella fight, and it is not going to end well for you, Smalls.

Climate Scientists: When I first saw snow and freezing temperatures this winter, it really hit close to home. I felt betrayed. Either that or I felt like I didn’t have a proper understanding of seasonal weather patterns. But mostly I felt betrayed. A funny thing happened a few weeks ago though. There was a record high temperature in Boston. So just as snow in winter disproves climate change, a record high temperature clearly proves it again. What other things have been proved recently? The Red Sox can’t throw out baserunners. Or pitch. You know what they can do though? Pass kidney stones. Seriously though, all those scientific facts and data you strive to provide, just stop. No one else bothers to. Stop being such overachieving, elitist snobs.

Status: You’ll be killing me next winter, but for now I believe you, Dr. Smalls.

Punxsutawney Phil: Greg, I know you got killed instantly when you got hit by that truck, but inevitably you will be replaced, because as far as I know Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania has no other source of income. In the meantime, however, all the town’s residents will continue to ignore the fact that their municipality’s mascot is only correct on its weather prediction 39% of the time. 39%. That’s worse than if you just flipped a coin.

Status: You’re 11% dumber than a coin flip. Well done, Smalls. Well done indeed.

Irony: I love you.

Status: …So what are you doing later?

Religious Crazies: Organized religion is a subject where I try to tread lightly. Seriously, I try really, really, hard. And I’m fine with the people that have their religion for personal guidance and a set of morals. I just hate when they get a bit too caught up in that religion and let it block out important aspects of life that help one to function in society. Like critical thinking. And not killing and raping people. And science. I’m just saying, it’s all well and good to allow miracles to be a valid explanation for something or jihad all up in someone’s grill, but if I wrote that in my senior thesis I’d get an F. For the miracles part. For the jihad part I’d probably get tried for murder.