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A Random Rant (because I can, damnit)

5 Jul

I woke up in a weird mood today. I woke up early, after a restless night’s sleep chock-full of weird ass dreams (though how bad ass would it be if Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles were real and they really WERE my friends – totally bad ass, that’s how bad ass), and just cannot seem to pull my shit together today. I’m not in a bad mood, and I’m certainly not cranky. Maybe it’s the Monster I drank, or the fact that my Greek yogurt tasted weird this morning, but I am in RARE form… one of those moments where I think most of what comes out of my own mouth is pure comedic gold and feel anyone I come in contact with is my audience. So, for the narcissistic sake of “hearing myself talk” – here goes:


Sure, he’s a cute little scamp. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t need a little discipline

I know, I know. Those of us who are childless (also known as AWESOME) think we know what it takes to keep a difficult child at bay when out in public – I’m sure there is a small discrepency in how easy we think it is and what it really takes. We are all very quick to pontificate that if that were our child, little Johnny and little Suzy wouldn’t be tearing shit off the walls and running screaming around retail stores, dangling from displays that, if they were to break or be knocked off balance, would probably put little Johnny and little Suzy in the hospital. Having cared for my younger brothers in the past, I have at least a vague idea of how to get children to behave in public… so all of you parents out there shaking your heads at me thinking I have no clue, quit judging.

The first step in making sure your kid isn’t running amuck is to PAY ATTENTION TO YOUR GODDAMN KIDS. Day in and day out, I witness parents that come into my store, and allow their kids to simply do as they please. They break things, they kick and scream, they act as though our store is their playground. Their parents, however, don’t get involved until either they are crying because something fell on them, or until one of us politely warns them “don’t hang on that, little one, it may fall on you and I don’t want you to get hurt.” The result is almost always the parent pandering to their child, and yelling at we, the employees (note I didn’t say babysitters), who typically want nothing more than to punt their child into next week. “Don’t tell my child what to do. They’re fine.” No, ma’am, little Johnny and little Suzy have left a path of destruction in their wake, not unlike a tornado, and you would probably sue us if that 60lb top-heavy display sign crushed their tiny, still-developing skull. Either leave the kids at home, or train them to behave.

Additionally, curb your know-it-all, disrespectful as fuck, “I’m too cool for this”, buy me what I want or I immediately become insolent teenagers. My ass would’ve had my cell phone, TV, computer, etc taken away from me for behaving the way these little douchebags do.


I really feel as though I shouldn’t have to explain this one, however… I do. Questions such as “Oh, you mean I have to pay for that?” and “I haven’t charged my phone in four days, why won’t it turn on?” are likely to get you an answer so laden with thinly-veiled contempt that you might even pick up on my total disdain for you. “Could this plastic piece of film that came on the phone out of the box that is completely obscuring the earpiece of the device be the reason my sound is totally muffled?” is a question that should really only be answered “Maybe you should take it off and find out.” Because I work for a company that frowns on such disregard for your feelings, you’ll get a cheerful “It’s entirely possible. How about I take a look for you and see if we can’t get that fixed today?” – please ignore the fact that the smile plastered on my face is closer to a wince and that in my head, I’m screaming obscenities. “Where is the power button?” – Well ma’am, it’s the one that is clearly labeled POWER. I can’t even.

…and I’ve run out of still. Til next time.



HOW IS THIS NEWS?! (A serial series here at The Walking Mishap)

14 Dec

I think by now, you’re all familiar with my overall and general loathing of all things reality TV (with the exception of MTV’s The Challenge – don’t judge, it’s a trainwreck that I can’t rip my eyes away from, and it’s chock-full of super sexy eye candy). You’re also probably familiar with my annoyance toward the Kardashians… you know, the family whose names all freakishly begin with “K” and whose fame stemmed essentially from Kim having sex on camera with a D-List celebrity no one’s considered relevant in lord knows how many years. Anyway, as it turns out, Kim, of the 72-day long sham marriage fame, is dating Kanye West. Who gives a shit, right?

Apparently, Kanye gave Kim a kitten (I couldn’t have planned that alliteration if I had wanted to… and why on earth would I want to??). As far as cats go, it was a pretty cute little thing – you all know I’m a dog person that’s fairly convinced cats are plotting on us all, so really, for me to openly admit one of these creatures is cute is a big deal. Mercy, the kitten, even spawned her own parody Twitter, which was actually pretty funny. The fact that Kanye had given Kim a kitten (again, with the alliteration), shouldn’t have really been a blip on our radar. People get pets. It’s what we do. Why one would actually trust Kim Kardashian with a living, breathing animal is beyond me, but let’s face it. Little Mercy was a gift from the guy who can’t find the capslock key to keep from Tweeting in all caps and who not only announced on TV that George Bush hates black people, but also interrupted Taylor Swift’s award acceptance speech to bestow his own honor on Beyonce. Guy’s kind of a loose cannon.

Fine, the cat's cute. Though she does look like she's plotting her escape.

Fine, the cat’s cute. Though she does look like she’s plotting her escape.

Anyway, in the three minutes of reading I did about ten minutes ago on the subject of the Kardashian cat, it turned out that Kim was allergic to this little ball o’ fluff, and instead of sucking it up and getting injections to keep her, she gave her away to her sister Khloe’s assistant (I think Khloe’s the Amazonian looking one). Whatever. Here’s where the story gets sad. Tiny little mercy, only four months old, had a nasty stomach virus. This virus acts as a cancer in small animals, and the poor little thing had to be euthanized at only four months old. As much as a cat fan I’m not, I still feel awful about a baby animal having to be put down, even if it meant ending her suffering. I also feel awul for the Kardashian assistant who had taken her in, as I know what losing a pet feels like. It’s an absolutely heart-wrenching experience.

The thing I’d like to know, dear readers, is HOW IS THIS NEWS?! How is this story featured on Yahoo! and USA Today and MSN?! Thank FUCK CNN doesn’t seem to have any trace of it on their website. USA TODAY?! If I were to lose a pet, IT WOULD NOT MAKE THE NEWS.

What is our society’s obsession with every little move a celebrity makes? Can we also just mention that, technically, this cat no longer even belonged to Kim? It belonged to her sister’s assistant.

Things that ARE news, and should be treated as such:

Nicholas Checque, Navy Seal, killed in action

Actually, you know what? I’m not even going to list any articles other than the one linked above. Why? Because I shouldn’t have to. Why is it we revere these asshats who make fools of themselves on TV, and our fallen members of our Armed Services, who risk their lives for us on a daily basis, don’t really ever get the recognition they deserve?  I think it is a shame someone lost a pet – they truly do become members of the family – but it is certainly not national news worthy.



An Open Letter to the NHL and NHLPA.

7 Dec


Dear NHL/NHLPA Powers That Be,

I am a hockey fan. More specifically, I am an ORANGE-AND-BLACK-BLEEDING, die-hard, love-my-team-even-when-they-lose, Pittsburgh-hating, Sidney-Crosby-taunting, ever-hopeful-for-the-Cup Flyers fan. My love for the sport and the Flyers began early. My dad played club hockey when I was just a wee lass, and he is a Flyers fan through and through. He and I have shared our love for the sport and our team ever since I was old enough to understand what hockey was. Gene Hart’s voice was a staple in our living room on game nights, and we both still get chills when we hear his daughter, Lauren Hart, sing God Bless America or our National Anthem before a game. We make it to games at the Wells Fargo Center when we can, and share fond memories of taking in games at the Spectrum. This season, however, we have yet to make any hockey-related memories. Why is that, you might ask? Ohhhh right. Because you guys can’t get your shit together and end this lock out.

I’ve read numerous articles on numerous sites (some of my favorites in the Philly area are The Orange Update, Buzz on Broad, and Broad Street Hockey), and I’ve got to say – it certainly does not look like any of you give a damn about your fans. Gary Bettman, the owners, Don Fehr, et. al… you have all had us on an emotional roller coaster all week. Wednesday night, there were rumors flying that we could get word of the season FINALLY starting. I cannot tell you how many of us were obsessively refreshing our Twitter feeds and holding our breath to hear if the sport we love so much would be something we get to experience this season. When Thursday rolled around, we were hearing a different tune. An agreement is now a long ways off, and cancellations at LEAST through the first of the year are likely on their way. You’ve already taken All Star Weekend and the Winter Classic away from us, and robbed us all of the first half of the season.

If you search NHL Lockout on YouTube, I can guarantee you will find video after video of fans expressing their disappointment, their passion, their frustration, and their sadness. Hockey fans aren't like baseball or football or basketball fans. If you've ever been to an NHL playoff game, you will know I'm not simply being biased. The atmosphere is unmatched, the fans are unrivaled. We take every single play, every single penalty, every single goal personally. We may not be on the ice with our teams, but for those sixty mintues, we live and breathe their every move. In Philadelphia, we have fans who are staples at every game:

Dave "The Sign Man" Leonardi

Dave “The Sign Man” Leonardi


Dave “The Sign Man” Leonardi, has been a presence at Flyers games longer than I’ve been alive (you can catch a great write up about him here). Every single home game, “The Sign Man” is there, with a plethora of signs, taunting the visiting team and encouraging our boys in Orange & Black.  Dancin’ Shawny, seen below, is a Flyers staple as well, getting the crowd rowdy and ready to go.

Dancin' Shawny Hill

Dancin’ Shawny Hill

These super fans, if you will, are only a part of the Flyers experience. From the electric atmosphere in the WFC, to the hoardes of people that cram into local bars to catch a game, to my dad, who typically watches at home and yells at the TV, the Flyers are a part of our lives. We wear their colors year round, we count down the days until our home opener, and our blood pressure rises and falls with the ups and downs of every game. Without the fans, what do you, as a league, have left? Empty buildings, no revenue, and no reason for existence. When did you forget this?

I understand that the NHL is a business, each team in itself, is a business. The goal of a business is to make money, and I think on a rational level, your fans all understand that. What we don’t understand, is how you can so blindly continue this charade, when WE are your source of income. Sure, you make money off your advertisers, but at the end of the day, without us, there is no NHL. The millions of dollars in ticket sales, concessions, merchandise, etc. you pull in every year? Gone without the fans, the people you have so blatantly betrayed this 2012-2013 season. This lock out is about money, and as it stands now, you aren’t making any. Locking the players out doesn’t put butts in seats, it doesn’t sell tickets. You know what it does? It pisses us off. It depresses us. It makes us lose trust in you, and it makes us question how many more times we can go through this (since, you know, Mr. Bettman, this is the THIRD lockout we’ve seen during your reign as NHL commissioner).

Do you know how hard it is to see our favorite players board planes to far-off countries to play for leagues overseas? To worry that they could sustain a career-ending injury wearing a sweater that doesn’t bear our favorite team’s logo? To wonder if they’re ever coming back? Do you know what it’s like to wait all summer long and to count down the days until our teams take the ice, only to find out your greed and unwillingness to play nice with one another means no hockey? Do you know how many casual fans you lost last lockout, or how many you will likely lose after this one? It is now December, and we have yet to see NHL hockey. Do you know what that’s like for your fans who spend hundreds of of dollars for a night at one of your arenas to see our favorite players in the flesh? It doesn’t seem like you do, because we still don’t have a season.

The only positive I can see in this lock out is how it has brought the fans together. As much as we love our rivalries, we love our sport more. The love of the game transcends team loyalties. This lockout has reached a point where most of us no longer care who is right or who is wrong. We just want hockey back. And we want it back now.

Frustrated and Defeated,

The Walking Mishap






For Aurora.

20 Jul

As I sit and write this, I’m on vacation. I am currently down the shore, on my favorite couch on the front porch, with a cup of coffee to my left, and my dog curled up sleeping to my right. This is how I’ve spent every morning this week, catching up on the news, checking my Twitter feed, and anxiously awaiting news on #WeberWatch. This morning wasn’t very different, with the exception of the fact that when I woke up and started reading the news and my Twitter feed, I learned that last night, in Aurora, CO,  an armed individual had opened fire in a crowded movie theater last night during opening night of The Dark Knight Rises, killing 12 people and injuring many, many others. He let off a few smoke bombs, then senselessly and needlessly shot people. People he didn’t even know, people who were simply looking to escape reality for a couple of hours and enjoy a much-anticipated movie. Expecting to read about whether or not Shea Weber would be joining my beloved Flyers on the ice this season, I was smacked in the face with the very real fact that we, as a country, are once again facing tragedy. I may live on the other side of the country from where this tragedy occurred, but I think it touches all of us.

It isn’t often that I feel compelled to take to this site to comment on current events – more often than not I am sharing personal anecdotes, my views on random situations, and just silly bullshit. I cannot, however, keep my thoughts on this tragedy to myself. When I read the first tweet on my feed mentioning the Aurora shootings this morning, my first thought was “Not again.” Could it be possible that once again, some random lunatic had decided to violently end the lives of others indiscriminately and without reason? Having grown up and lived through senseless tragedies such as the Oklahoma City Bombing, Columbine, 9/11, and the VA Tech shootings, you’d think I’d be desensitized. I’m not. I am not “used to” the idea that people are capable of such evil. I may not have much faith in humanity for a veritable cornucopia of other reasons, but I’m of the line of thinking that human life is sacred.

I am lucky enough to not be connected to any of the Aurora victims. I have been spared the heart and soul-wrenching feeling of losing a loved one, or getting a phone call in the middle of the night informing me someone I care about has been rushed to the hospital and may not make it, all because some asshole with a gun and a bug up his ass thought it was a good night for a killing spree. The thing that keeps nagging me, however, it that it COULD HAVE BEEN. I could have been one of those people whose lives will be forever changed, one of those left with a void that can’t be filled, a spot in my heart where a friend or family member occupied before they were taken from me too soon. Any one of us could have gotten that call. My Facebook and Twitter feeds were chock-full of friends and family who were headed off to the opening night midnight showing of this movie. Even worse, any single one of us could have been in that darkened theater, unaware of the fate that awaited us once the lights went down.

The moment James Holmes decided to open fire in that theater, Aurora, Colorado became Anytown, USA. It became a representation of the fact that these things happen over and over, all over the country. Littleton, CO, only 13 miles away from Aurora, was Anytown, USA when two students armed themselves and shot up Columbine 13 years ago. Now, in their back yard, another community aches, mourning the loss of friends, brothers, sisters, mothers, father, sons, and daughter. And for what? What could possibly have been the reason behind Holmes’ actions?

While poring over my Twitter feed and news articles, a few people I follow posted that Jessica Redfield, a sports blogger and aspiring TV reporter, had been in the theater. She was one of those that did not survive. I have never read any of Jessica’s work, probably because she’s in Denver, and I only really closely pay attention to Philly sports blogs. Her twitter feed had been linked, and it’s haunting to read. The last handful or so of her tweets are about going to the movies. Her last tweet reads “MOVIE DOESN’T START FOR 20 MINUTES” – after that, nothing. This is a young woman who was excited about going to see a movie, and instead, had her life cut short, only a month after narrowly avoiding being caught in the middle of a shooting at a shopping mall. She wrote about it here.

In her post about this mall shooting, Jessica writes about a feeling, an instinct, maybe, that had her feeling unsettled. That feeling is the reason she left the mall when she did, and is the reason she wasn’t in the wrong place at the wrong time. Did she or anyone else in the theater last night have a feeling like that? Did they push it down, thinking there was nothing to be afraid of? That there was nothing they had to worry about? What about the people who maybe left their seats to run to the bathroom or get popcorn, exiting the theater mere moments before the gunfire started? What are they thinking about today?

Someone I follow on Twitter RT’d this. Someone in Aurora’s ticket had them assigned to theater 9, where the shooting took place. Instead, they went to theater 8. I don’t know if that is luck or divine intervention, but I tend to think that person’s life will be forever changed because of something so simple as walking into a different theater than the one listed on their ticket. It’s something akin to Seth McFarlane missing his flight on 9/11 and Mark Wahlberg making different travels plans for that day. McFarlane was booked on Flight 11, and missed it because he was hungover. Wahlberg was scheduled to be on Flight 93, and rearranged his schedule to go see a friend. Those two flights are the ones that hit the Twin Towers. I’m sure there are many others who missed those flights, or chose different ones, having no idea what would become of those planes once they took off. I have no doubt there are others who weren’t in theater 9 last night because of similar coincidence.

My heart goes out to the victims, to the friends and families of the victims, and honestly, anyone that was in the building last night. My heart goes out to the entire town of Aurora, the new Anytown, USA. As I stated earlier, any single one of us could have been in that theater. Any one of us could have gotten the phone call that would have stopped our lives on a dime, forever altering the course of our day-to-day.

In reading the ongoing coverage on, I am appalled at the things people are leaving in the comment section. They have turned this horrendous act of violence into a debate on gun control, and whether or not armed citizens would have prevented this from happening, and whether it would have made the situation better or worse. I understand that there is a time and place to debate the merits and faults of our 2nd amendment right to bear arms, however, I don’t feel this is one of those times or places. Not when this wound is so fresh, while people are grieving and emotions are running high.  No one knows just yet if the guns used in last night’s shooting were legally registered to the assailant or not. No one knows if James Holmes would’ve simply used explosives instead of firearms if he couldn’t get his hands on a gun. What we do know, however, is that he hurt people. Killed people. What he did doesn’t just affect the people who were in that theater last night. It touches the lives of their family and friends. It touches the lives of all of us, because, and I can’t say it enough, it could have been ANY ONE OF US.

Again, my thoughts and prayers are with those whose lives are touched by what happened last night. I’m not one who puts too much stock in prayer, as I’m hugely agnostic, but I think it’s appropriate in this case. I think Aurora is going to need all the help it can get so it can begin to make sense of the senseless, mourn the lost members of the community, support the survivors on their road to recovery, and so Aurora can, over time, heal the gaping wound James  Holmes inflicted upon it last night.

The Walking Mishap’s Guide to Whining on Social Media

29 May

Do it for your country.

We’ve all done it. Let loose a whine or complaint on Facebook or Twitter or Myspace (you know, way back in the day). Maybe we woke up late, or broke a heel on our way out the door, or spilled coffee on ourselves. Perhaps that red light ran a little too long, or maybe you didn’t get the phone call you were expecting. I get it… it sucks. What I’m addressing here is not the minor, occasional “bummer” post – I’m talking about those people who take to social media as though it were their shrink’s office or something.

I won’t lie to you, my dear readers. As I have mentioned before in previous posts, I am a reformed over-poster. In a former life, the first thing that came to my mind was almost immediately thrown up on my page. Until friends of mine pointed it out. I quickly became annoyed with myself, and knocked it off. In order to clear the air, and perhaps give some of you an idea of what is and isn’t social media rant-worthy, here it is… a guide.

First, a little persepective.

I can almost guarantee, no matter how shitty your day is, you probably do not have it that bad. Let’s dig a little deeper, shall we?

Here are a few questions to evaluate just how bad you have it:

  • Did you wake up this morning?
  • Did you still have all your limbs?
  • Do you have a roof over your head?
  • Clean, running water?
  • Food to eat?
  • Are you and your family in general good health?
  • Do you have a job?
  • Do you have a marketable skill you could use to find a job if the answer to the last question is no?
  • Do you have friends?
  • If no, is that by choice?

Now. If you were able to answer YES to 2/3 or more of those questions… I promise you, you really don’t have it that bad. Shit happens, we all go through rough times, but if your basic needs are met, well, honestly, it’ll be ok.

I get my personal perspective from people who have seen true hardship. My youngest brother, for instance.  That little dude fought – and beat – cancer. Diagnosed at the AGE OF TWO. He is one of the happiest kids I’ve ever met.  I feel like you don’t know what a hard day is until you have to go through something like that. One of my dad’s best friends passed away from cancer at around the age of 35-36, leaving a wife and three kids behind. All three of his children grieved, and still miss their father dearly (as do we all), but they are all happy and thriving in their own way. A few years back, a friend of mine lost all of his worldly posessions when his uninsured basement apartment flooded. He’s now one of the least materialistic and happiest people I know.  Sometimes, thinking about what others have gone through (or even what you have dealt with personally) really makes that stubbed toe or spilled coffee look like a walk in the park. I can almost guarantee for everything you’ve wanted to bitch about today, someone you know is probably going through something far worse – and you may not even know about it. Why is that? Because often times, it’s the people with the serious shit to wade through that don’t make it known. They buckle down and work through it.


To Bitch, or Not to Bitch?

I’ve kind of developed a system when it comes to deciding what I do or don’t put on social media. I often find, too, that if I put something up that I think was over the top, it’s typically deleted very shortly thereafter.

Here are a few questions to ask yourself when contemplating putting things on the internet:

  • Is it the end of the world?
  • Will bitching about it on the internet solve the problem?
  • Is this something I would text my best friend about and expect sympathy?
  • If I were to read this on someone else’s page, would I feel compelled to offer sympathy?
  • How strong is the likelihood I would roll my eyes at or make fun of a post like the one I am about to hit “send” on?

If you answered NO to most of those questions (and there is a STRONG likelihood to the last), save it. Feel free to type it out like you’re about to post it if it makes you feel better, but I’m begging you… PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY, DO NOT HIT SEND. Delete it. Take a few deep breaths and remember, you’re not a dead, limbless, homeless, starving person.



Laura Jane Grace, Way More Punk Than You.

11 May

Tommy Gabel of Against Me! comes out as Transgender – way more punk than any of you.

**Disclaimer** I am a straight woman who has never once questioned her sexual orientation or her gender. I am not entirely educated on the subject, nor do I know anyone who is transgender. This is probably not even a topic I should be sticking my nose in on, but I am in complete awe of the balls (no pun intended) it must take not only to come out as transgender, but to do so in such a public, out-in-the-open manner.

A couple of nights ago, a friend of mine tweeted me this article, asking if I had seen it. Tom Gabel, the frontman of one of my favorite punk bands, Against Me!, had come out as transgender and would be living as Laura Jane Grace from here on out. After having a “HOLY SHIT, NO WAY,” moment, I was simply impressed and in awe of what it must have taken to invite Rolling Stone into her home, and to share this with them, knowing it would be national news once the magazine hit print. My biggest question, in all honesty and selfish as it may be, was “what does this mean for the band?” – because honestly, they’re badass. Their song “Thrash Unreal” got me through some pretty hard times, when I thought diving to the bottom of a bottle was the best solution for my problems. Tom’s (I use Tom and he in the next few sentences because I’m speaking in past-tense, and the music I’m referring to was performed as Tom. voice is gritty to the core, a perfect fit for the type of music Against Me! plays. Tom’s solo album, Heart Burns, is an even better example. For the sake of exposing yourself to kick ass music, see the following:

Thrash Unreal

Harsh Realm

Anyway… in the full Rolling Stone article (highly recommended – you need to be a subscriber to Rolling Stone to get it in full online, otherwise I’d link it), Laura answers that question. She says, “Imagine me, six foot two, in heels, fucking screaming in someone’s face.” HELL FUCKING YES, is what I have to say to that.

I think the most enlightening and awesome part of the whole article, is the immense support and apparent lack of trepidation from Heather Gabel, Laura’s wife. She has decided, in the face of such a major change, to stand by her spouse. How many women do you know that would do that? Would you be able to stay with your spouse or significant other if they one day told you that they were born in the body of the wrong sex? As much as I would love to say I absolutely would, I’m not sure I can say so without actually being put in the position to make said decision. Heather’s got a long road ahead of her, just as Laura does, and I am so impressed with the things she said in the RS article.

As expected/hoped… it seems as though the punk community is supporting Laura Jane Grace with open arms. So many of the bands/artists that I follow (Cory Branan, NoFx, Lawrence Arms, The Gaslight Anthem, Dave  Hause, and many others) all either directly or not so directly tweeted and/or blogged their support for a fellow punk rocker whom many of them have toured with. In reading more and more articles, it seems as though while the majority of the feedback is positive, there are some assholes who just have nothing nice to say. I won’t dignify their ignorance and intolerance (and frankly, their lack of humanity) toward Laura by putting it here in print, but I can say, it is some of the most ugly hatespeech I’ve ever had the displeasure of reading. Those people are the reason I’m writing this.

Some of these folks claim to be “deeply rooted” in the punk scene – “fans” of Against Me! who have been there since day one – and they have not only made awful comments about Laura’s decision, but in some comments I’ve seen, they say Laura goes against everything that IS punk. Excuse me… to those people, all I have to say is FUCK YOU. I know people who consider themselves punk that wear suits to work every day. Who have spent their youth in church basements and who have lived, breathed, eaten, and slept punk rock. Who, if you were to run into them on the street, you’d have no idea they’re covered in ink and rage out in their car to the likes of Against Me! and The Ramones. It’s not the clothes you wear, it’s not the job you have, it’s not anything but WHO YOU ARE and WHAT YOU STAND FOR. At it’s core, isn’t punk about being whoever the fuck you want to be? What it boils down to, at least in my humble opinion, is simply being yourself and not giving a shit what anyone has to say about it. That’s the most simplified explanation I can give.

Based on that philosophy, Laura Jane Grace is more punk rock than anyone in recent memory. Good for her.

A Public Service Announcement: To the Haters.

29 Feb

Basically, I’ve hit a wall. By now, you’ve read my “Open Letter to My Anonymous Harasser” post (if you haven’t, catch up, sillies!).

I’m done. I’ve had it. Finished.

In what universe did it become cool to anonymously harass someone, simply because you view them as a threat? When did I time travel back to Jr. High, the land of bullies who are really just insecure assholes?

Here’s the deal. Calling me a slut, whore, tramp, bitch, harlot, whore-slut, a fat slut-whore, etc.? IT DOESN’T HURT MY FEELINGS.

What it DOES, however, is make me angry. It pisses me the hell off. It pisses me off enough to contact a lawyer, and a therapist, and the p0lice in two different states (the one I live in, and the one I suspect the harassment is coming from). It gives me a mission. What is my mission, you ask? To CRUSH the person who is interrupting my life like this. It motivates me to enter the lengthy process of pressing criminal and civil charges, and it motivates me to not give up on getting tangible proof of the harasser’s identity. Once I have proof, case closed. I will be taking no mercy in court, nor will I be taking settlements.

How pathetic must one’s life be to spend MONTHS harassing someone? To feel that threatened by someone who lives in an entirely different state, two hours away?

How sad is your life, that instead of emailing with friends during work hours to keep occupied like a normal person, you spend your time calling someone names and telling them they have AIDS (yes, she went there)? Do you not have friends to let you know that this behavior is completely unacceptable?

Keep hating, bitch. I may annoyed and pissed off, but that will pass. What won’t pass is your insecurity. Your low self-esteem. Your pathetic, unfulfilled life.

To my lovely, supportive friends who have been listening to my venting and rants about this – thank you, I love you all.


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