Category Archives: Random Rants

Everyday items like money to days of the week to common situations.

Pubic Hair on the Shower Wall

I’ve noticed that there is always a pubic hair on the shower wall. It doesn’t matter if it’s your shower, a hotel’s shower, or a friend’s shower. It doesn’t matter if you’re a dirty person or anal about cleaning. It doesn’t even matter if you shave downstairs. There’s still going to be a pubic hair on the wall and it’s hardly ever yours. You can’t fight it. Don’t try to. Embrace the pube on the wall. Marvel at how curly it is. Wonder how it got so high up there. Aim the showerhead at it to wash it away. Notice that it’s back on the wall the next day. It’s a mystery, a conspiracy, a law of the universe. I theorize that every missing sock turns into a pubic hair on the shower wall. That’s the only explanation for the phenomenon.

Critically Rated at 10/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Forgetting Where You Parked Your Car and Thinking It Got Stolen

I have a car but I don’t drive it very often. I pretty much only drive it when I have to go to the store or to move it for street cleaning. I forgot about the street cleaning last week until the last minute but I was able to move my car in time. Unfortunately I had to park it on a different street because all the spots were taken on mine. This morning I went to find my car and move it back to my street. I walked to where I thought I left it and it wasn’t there. I kept on walking, hoping it was just a little bit up ahead. It still wasn’t there. I started panicking a little bit. Where did I park it? Did somebody steal it? Was this the start of weeks on the phone battling the insurance company? Forgetting where you parked your car and thinking it got stolen is an unsettling feeling. You can’t help but feel that the universe has it in for you, that it’s out to get you. All you can do in that situation is keep on walking and looking for your car. That’s what I did. I kept on walking. Eventually I found my car. It just wasn’t where I remembered parking it. I felt a little stupid and a lot of relief. Nobody stole it (this time at least). Next time I will take pictures of where I park it and mark the GPS on my phone. It will be more work but less stress later on.

Critically Rated at 6/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Adventure Day

Every couple of weeks I will get a random day off in the middle of the week and sometimes a friend will have the same day off too. I can’t afford to lose those days. I turn them into adventure days. An adventure day is when you go out and do a bunch of spontaneous activities. Go hiking, go biking, try spelunking. Go to the beach and dig a hole. Go to the park and climb a tree. Explore downtown and find a new restaurant to try, walk into a shop that you always walk by, or see how many pigeons it takes to eat a hot dog (it’s probably around seven). The point is that you have to take advantage of the time you have while you have it. And so you go on adventures. They don’t have to swashbuckling. They just have to be genuine. Adventure day doesn’t come around that often. Do it while you can.

Critically Rated at 15/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Twilight Bark

I was relaxing at home the other night when I heard my neighbor’s dog howling. It was a slow, mournful wail and then it would pause for a minute. A few blocks away another dog would bark back a response, and then the howling would continue before another dog would jump in on the conversation. It sounded familiar but I couldn’t quite put my finger on where I’ve heard it before. Then it hit me. I was listening to the twilight bark in action. You might remember the twilight bark from Disney’s One Hundred and One Dalmatians. It’s when the evening quiet is shattered by dogs barking and howling at each other. It’s how Pongo and Perdita spread the word about their kidnapped puppies. The twilight bark is far more than a canine AMBER Alert. It’s a canine form of communication over long distances. Everyone knows the best way for dogs to converse is to sniff each other’s asses, but the twilight bark allows them to broadcast information on a larger scale. It’s like Twitter only with more growls and yips and fewer hashtags and you aren’t restricted to a hundred and forty characters.

Critically Rated at 14/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Wearing Sandals with Socks On

I’ll be turning thirty in a month. My twenties will be over. I will be considered an old man by everyone that is still in high school. And I’ve already decided that I’ll start wearing sandals with socks on. I know that it’s a fashion faux pas, but I’ll be too old to give a fuck anymore. I won’t care about looking cool, I’ll only care about being comfortable. And wearing sandals with socks on seems mighty comfortable. That’s why so many dads and grandpas dress like that. I won’t start sporting a fanny pack until I’m in my forties, but I’ll use my thirties to start getting acquainted with the geezer style of dress. That begins with wearing sandals with socks on and grows from there. Trust me, if I could stay sockless and in my twenties forever I would, but now it’s time to grow up and rock Crocs with socks. I guess this is growing up.

Critically Rated at 6/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Packing Last Minute

It doesn’t matter how far in advance I plan a trip, I always end up packing last minute. I’ll do my laundry the day I leave so I have the maximum number of clean boxers and socks as possible. I can’t pack my charger too early because I need my phone fully charged when I leave the house. I can’t pack my toothbrush and toothpaste the night before because I have to brush my teeth in the morning. The same thing goes with packing my shampoo, body wash, and lather thingy the night before because I can’t wake up without taking a shower. It’s rough, I know. You might leave out a few things by leaving it until the last minute but it doesn’t matter. You always forget to pack something anyway. Like pants.

Critically Rated at 11/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Pants

Pants are an article of clothing that cover your ass, legs, and junk. They typically go from your waist to your ankles, or from your ankles to your waist depending on how you look at it. Some countries call them trousers, but here in America we call them pants. Foreigners wear trousers. Muricans wear pants. There are many different types of pants. There are jeans, leggings, Capris, ass-less chaps, breeches. There are also many different ways to hold your pants up. Most people prefer belts, hipsters and old people go for suspenders, and some rugged individuals use rope, extension cords, or duct tape. Pants are interesting because the word is both singular and plural. It’s also a noun and a verb and a contradiction, like when you pants somebody in gym class. It’s contradictory because you‘re taking off somebody’s pants when you pants them. I like pants. I wear them every day except when it’s my day off and I don’t have to. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that chicks can wear pants now too thanks to the women’s liberation movement. What a time to be alive.

Critically Rated at 13/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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I’ve Already Done That

I’ve been doing this blog for three years now and I’m constantly looking out for new things to write about. An idea for a topic will pop into my head, I’ll jot down a note or two to remember it, and I’ll let the idea germinate in the back of my mind until I have time to type it out. But I’m at the point now that I have to search Critically Rated first to see if I’ve already written about something. And a lot of the times I’ll realize that I’ve already done that, then I have to find something new to write about. That’s ok though, it helps keep me motivated to find something else to write about. That’s how this post was created. I wanted to write about battling for the armrest. I had it all figured out. Too bad I already wrote about fighting for the armrest in 2012. I needed a new topic. So I wrote about how I’ve already done that. And now you’ve read it. My work here is done… for now.

Critically Rated at 8/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Profile Picture Crop Out

I was Facebooking last night and I noticed that my friend uploaded a picture of her hanging out with some friends. They were all dressed up nice. They were wearing dresses, they had their hair styled all fancy, and it was a solid group photo. I also noticed that my friend had changed her main profile picture. It was the same group photo but with all of her friends cropped out so that you could only see one smiling face with fancy styled hair. Ahhh, the classic profile picture crop out. It’s one of the most selfish things that you can do on social media. I love this picture of us, but I’m taking all you out of it so everyone can focus on me. I look great, don’t I? The best is when you see snippets and remnants of the people who were cropped out on the sides of the photo. Sometimes you’re the one who was cropped out. It’s not a nice feeling when you see that you didn’t make the cut. A group photo should remain a group photo. A crop out is a cop out.

Critically Rated at 5/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Looking for the Light Switch

A bunch of buddies and I recently rented a house for a bachelor party weekend. It was a nice house. It had huge backyard with a pool, basketball hoop, ping-pong table, an outdoor living room equipped with a huge TV, 4 bedrooms, and 2.5 baths. It even had a kitchen with a refrigerator! There were fourteen of us altogether and we were in the mood to party and party hard. And we did. We got a bunch of beers and started playing drinking games until we started dropping like flies. One by one we would slip away from the festivities and find a place to pass out in peace. After a while there was only a few of us left to semi-clean up, lock doors, and turn off lights. It’s hard looking for the light switch in a strange house, especially when you’re wasted. I tried to turn off the patio lights and turned on the garbage disposal. I tried to turn off the kitchen lights and turned on the lights in the living room, waking up a few grumbling drunks in the process. The only light I could successfully turn off was the one in the refrigerator (all I did was shut the door). Looking for the light switch is a thankless chore. Nobody cares when you finally find it, and they’ll think you’re stupid until you do.

Critically Rated at 7/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Opening Doors with Overly Lotioned Hands

I got a little too much sun over the weekend and I got a little burnt. Now I’m starting to peel. I don’t like going out into public look reptilian, so I decided to put on some lotion. Then I put on a little more. Then some more after that. I put on too much because I couldn’t get enough grip on the doorknob to turn it. My hands were too moist. I was trapped in my room for couple of minutes until my hands were dry and fully functional. It took me twenty-nine years, but I’ve finally realized that opening doors with overly lotioned hands is nigh impossible. It’s best to leave the door slightly ajar before applying lotion (unless you’re thirteen years old and have a dirty magazine, in which case you should close the door and double check that it’s locked).

Critically Rated at 6/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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A Fly on the TV

I was watching TV the other day and a fly landed on the screen. It would stay in one spot for a little bit, then it walk over to a different spot for a while, then it would find a new spot to hang out in. It made it really hard to focus on whatever I was pretending to watch. There should not be a fly on the TV. The fly should be flying, not walking around keeping me from enjoying my Netflix. I don’t know how a little bug could be such a big distraction, but I can’t even stand a screen with a dead pixel. There’s no way I can ignore a fly. Flies are way bigger than pixels.

Critically Rated at 4/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Closing the Airplane Window

I flew into Phoenix from San Francisco earlier today. I booked last minute and forgot to check in on time so I ended up stuck with a middle seat. Luckily it was a short flight so it wasn’t too bad. My biggest complaint was that the guy next to me had his window closed. I don’t know why. You get to choose your seat. Why would you choose a window seat if you’re only going to close it? It makes no sense. The biggest perk of the window seat is having a window to look out of, especially on when taking off or landing. It’s ok to close the window if the sun is blasting you, but the window shouldn’t be closed the entire time. Closing the airplane window is selfish. Think about the guy in the middle seat. Maybe he wants to look out the window. He can’t if you closed it. Don’t be a jerk, share the view.

Critically Rated at 4/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young



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Don’t Get Along

I wouldn’t say that I hate anybody, but there are a few people that I simply don’t get along with. We don’t see eye to eye, we rub each other the wrong way, and we can’t help but bicker and argue. Some people just aren’t meant to be friends. And that’s ok as long as you don’t physically come to blows or keep your psychological warfare to a minimum (at least when other people are in the room). All you can do is try to be civil or at least pretend to be. Don’t be petty. Don’t undermine them. Don’t cut them down or insult them to their face, wait until they leave the room. Then you can talk shit behind their back, the way that you’re supposed to air your grievances. Some people don’t get along. That’s all there is to it. Don’t take it personally. It’s awesome if you have thousands of friends, but you’re doing something wrong if you don’t have any enemies.

Critically Rated at 9/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Amateur Stoner Neighbors

I have a pair of amateur stoner neighbors. They don’t know what they are doing. About once or twice a week they will wake me up around 8:30 or 9:00 in the morning because of their absurdly loud smoking sessions. They open the window so everyone can hear their unnecessarily noisy conversations, they blast the stereo, and light one up while coughing and hacking after each hit. First off, no respectable stoner should be waking up before 10:00 am. Secondly, if you do wake up to smoke a joint, you shouldn’t be yelling and screaming and singing loudly to terrible ‘90s rock music. Why are you screaming? You should be more concerned with passing the joint around. The only thing you should be saying that early is: “C’mon, pass it already.” Thirdly, any decent stoner should be ashamed of coughing. If you can’t handle your shit, don’t do that shit. I’m not going to yell at them to shut the fuck up because I’m moving out soon. They won’t be my neighbors for much longer. I can only hope that my new neighbors will be more professional than these current amateurs. And that they have better taste in music. That shouldn’t be too hard.

Critically Rated at 6/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Weird Workplace Acronym

Anyone who has ever seen Office Space knows that we’re putting coversheets on all the TPS reports now (unless you haven’t seen the memo). What the fuck are TPS reports? Well, it doesn’t matter what TPS stands for. It’s just another weird workplace acronym. Practically every job has a weird workplace acronym of their own. Some jobs have more than one. I’m sure your job as an acronym or two that is always a topic of discussion at the water cooler or the bar after work. My job has SOAP reports. They break down sales, comps, voids, etc. and rank each employee. I don’t like SOAP. I will not be defined by SOAP. I don’t believe in SOAP.

Critically Rated at 13/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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A Pimple You Can’t Pop

I have a pimple on my nose. I know it’s on the left nostril. I can feel it. There’s pressure. There’s a little bump. But I can’t pop it. And it’s starting to drive me crazy. It’s been there for a couple of days now. It’s not noticeable. I can’t see it. But it’s there and it seems to be settling in and making itself comfortable. It might be there for a while. I don’t like pimples you can’t pop. Popping pimples is the best part about having pimples. Some would argue that it’s the only redeeming factor of pimples. You get immense satisfaction from popping pimples. A pimple you can’t pop is a pimple you don’t want. I’m sure dermatologists would advise you against popping pimples, but that’s only because they pop pimples for a living and want the glory for themselves.

Critically Rated at 3/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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