Fucktard Rants… Attempting to Put a Stop to Stupidity the World Over because Stupid People Suck!

Where I work you don’t have to give any kind of explanation on why you need a day off or what’s ailing you, just make sure you call in.

Well, normal people understand this, but NOT FUCKTARDS. Not only can they not even call in on time and sometimes not at all they have to tell you every piece of drama that is going on in their life.

First of all, I don’t give a shit. We are not family, friends…hell I don’t even like you.

I have put off this rant about a certain co-worker long enough. She called in tonight, 45 minutes late, and preceeded to cough in my ear and then go on and on about all of her illnesses. “I am sorry I am late, but I have been having breathing problems.” I am asthmatic and I am insulin dependent diabetic. Of course she was just getting home from somewhere and it wasn’t the hospital. Maybe her mother, the one that has Alzheimer’s, was driving her home from some shindig. Yes, her mother drives them places. That’s a scary thought. If it’s not her health it’s that she is doing something for her elderly mother with Alzheimer’s. She has to let us know that every fucking time she calls off also. All I know is my mother, whom I love with all my heart, is a terrible driver now. I sure wouldn’t get in the car with her if she had Alzheimer’s.

BTW, the jobs we do do not require any physical activity what-so-ever.

I have a big problem with Fucktards in cars. It used to be that I would mostly have issues with them when I was driving, but lately it seems that I have problems with them when I am not in a car as well. Let me give you an example. The other day I had made it through traffic hell, parked my car and was walking across the bridge into work. I get to the end of the bridge and there is a light where people come off a ramp from the highway and can turn right across the bridge or left and into town. Now this is a fancy light. It has three different colors and even has those neat looking boxes which also light up. The top one has a white sign that says “walk” and the bottom one has a red sign that says “don’t walk”. Not being a Fucktard myself, I know that when the white sign is on, I should be able to safely cross the intersection. The red one means I have to wait until the cars are stopped again so I can cross. I have discussed in previous posts how I observe Fucktards just crossing streets whenever and wherever they want, but this tale is not about that. Back to the three colored lights. For those Fucktards who don’t know, the top one is red and it means “Stop”. The middle one is yellow and it means “hurry up before it turns red”. (just kidding – see I do have a sense of humor) it means “slow down”. The bottom one is green and it means “go”. See…this is not so difficult. Anyway, I am crossing the intersection (because my little sign is showing “walk” and the traffic light is red which means the cars should “stop”) and this Fucktard decides that they are going to make a right on red and beat the cars coming up the road – even though they are only about ten feet away and moving. I guess shit stain was too busy looking at the cars coming to notice that someone was walking in front of their car. This pee brain hits the gas to pull out and runs right into me. I was not in a car, I was walking. I was hit by a car. Luckily they started from a stop and I was not hit hard, but let me tell you, it still is not fun. Thankfully the thud of my body hitting her car alerted her that there may be a problem and she stopped. I, of course, quickly move out of the road and she winds down the window. Now I am waiting for it to start as this behemoth leans out of her window and yells: “Sorry, are you OK”. This took me by complete surprise. Believe me, this was not what I was expecting. Suddenly there shined a small glimmer of hope in an otherwise stupid and pitiful world. (See…not everything I write about is completely bad). I told her it was Ok and went on my way with a lighter heart and small skip in my step. Well, it was actually more of a limp, but anyway my mood was better. This lasted about one block before I saw several other Fucktards do other incredibly stupid things and my world was back to normal.

Things have been tolerable on the fucktard front lately. It’s one reason I haven’t posted in awhile. But something weird happened again to me today that forced me to write. This is a true story, the names have be changed but alas it is true. I couldn’t make this crap up if I tried.

I have to set the story up so you must know 2 things.

First, I am a freak magnet. I attract them like flies to shit. They spot me anywhere I might be, they talk to me because somehow I “look” like someone who gives a damn about their rambling nonsense. They find me, they always like me, and I always say that I am never leaving the house again because of it.

Second, I am a horror film fanatic to the ninth degree. I’m not a crazy escaped mental patient; but I do like to watch them kill a bunch of fucktards on tv. Call it a “fantasy”. My home and life are normal… except for my game room. That’s where I store the collection of movies and have a few other weird collectibles. Most people who are not expecting this find it to be “charming”, or at least that’s what they say. At the very least it becomes a conversation.

On to the story….

I hate having “workmen” of any sort come to my home when my husband is not here. (see reason #1) They talk to me and they are always freaks. When my husband is home, they talk to him, but since he is a man they discuss the work they are doing. Me being a female means they have to find something else to say, and that just causes a door to open that I don’t want.

Today a workman fucktard came over for a reason that is irrelevant. He needed to plug in a saw down in my basement so I led him down the steps into my game room of “horrors”. I happened to look behind me to see him do a double take at my collection of Living Dead Dolls, and I laughed….

“Oh don’t freak out, my husband and I just love horror films”. I said

“Oh its ok, I think I was here before.” He responded.

Uneventful… the topic should be done now. Right? No. Not with a fucktard. I showed him where to plug in his saw, and just before he was heading out to the truck to get it… this conversation happened.

“You know it’s not the horror stuff that freaks me out in people’s houses. You know what really scares me is the Catholics”. He said.

“uh…… oh, I see”, I said in shock.

“Yeah they have all those creepy looking statues and pictures on the wall”. He said with a straight face.

“Yeah”. I said.

“Yeah and the other houses I hate to go into are the Arabs”. He said as he walked out the basement door.

I thought about telling him I was a Catholic and my husband was from Arab decent just to fuck with his mind, but then I thought better of it. He obviously didn’t have much of one. Instead I went up stairs and hid from him. I couldn’t wait to get the freak out of my house. WTF!