Why I Hate Whiny-Assed People

Don't you just KNOW he has a tiny, little trust fund?

I hate injustice more than anyone else in the history of injustice haters. If you come to my house—and for those of you with restraining orders, I’m not talking to you—you can see my shiny, golden statuette with the little engraved plaque that reads, “World’s Greatest Injustice Hater.”

That makes it true.

Just ask anyone who has ever received a shiny, golden statuette. For example, Halle Berry. Even though I dislike the way Nicole Kidman keeps melting her face, I admit that she has put forth some incredible performances, and I don't just mean her marriage to Tom "Scary as Charlie Sheen" Cruise. Nicole really was robbed of the best actress Oscar ® for Moulin Rouge! in 2001 because Halle Berry turned in her inspired masterpiece in Monster’s Ball. So because Halle got the gold, that makes it TRUE that she was the better actress that year. But not really. I mean, there should have been a freaking TIE just like the year that Katharine Hepburn won for The Lion in Winter and Barbra Streisand won for Funny Girl. See, that right there is an injustice. (Damn.) So much for the truth-is-a-tiny-golden-statuette argument. But I digress.

My point is that even though I despise injustice and used to fight tooth-and-what-would-have-been-nails-if-I-hadn’t-chewed-them-down-to-nubs for every, single grade point I knew I deserved in school, I hate WHINERS more than I hate injustice.

I may or may not have a student who is a class-A, mother-fucking, ass-licking whiner. He or she may or may not have emailed me today something similar to Why did you take off ¼ of a point? My OTHER teachers have never taken off points for that before. This same person is highly likely to whine, My OTHER anal lovers let me suck the dick afterwards! or MOTHER always cut my crusts off! Yeah, well, then you should still be living in Mommy’s house with your head in her panty drawer. Ass.

I don’t give a rat’s butt-seepage about what OTHER teachers/wives/girlfriends/employees/customers do! I have very high standards for EVERYTHING other than clean, wholesome language and disturbing images.

I’m so sick of the dumbing-down of every institution in America, especially our educational system. God forbid we fail to reward mediocrity with a tiny, golden statuette. We might hurt someone’s tender, fucking feelings if everyone doesn’t walk away with a prize for “participation,” or if we have the nerve to criticize. So when some dumbass writes 5(3 x 17/43 x -.03) = 17, I’m just supposed to IGNORE that?!? Come on!

Or some fucktard writes, In this essay i will write about my son illness and who the doctor toll us we sopose to do and reason for illness, and I’m required to say, “I think you have a great start to your essay, and your introduction makes your paper’s focus clear,” and what I reallllllly want to say is “Please, please, please for the love of God, don’t procreate, and stop sending me cryptic messages that are obviously encoded for Al Qaeda, you fucking terrorist.”

One of these days, I’m going to have some hideous Freudian slip when I mean to say, “Good luck in your future classes and career,” but what comes out is, “Fuck you, you fucking fuck and your fucking mother for fucking that garden slug and giving birth to a smear.” Seriously, I have to be constantly on my toes.

In the meantime, I’ll be all nice and maintain my composure. I will just allegedly think alleged evil curses against your alleged paternity and species-identification, but I will smile sweetly and say, “I understand your point of view. Let’s see how we can reach a resolution that makes sense.” Even though you wouldn’t understand sense if it crawled up your ass and out your eye sockets. But I promise to keep that to myself.