Category Archives: Random Rants

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

September 22, 2013 · 12:05 pm

A Good Last Goodbye

Goodbyes are hard. They are always sad. But the other day I experienced a good last goodbye, one of the best goodbyes in history. Three of my close friends were leaving after an awesome summer in San Francisco, and a group of us hung out together all day. We ended up getting dinner at the restaurant where we all work, and we got food, drinks, and an amazing dessert. But that was just leading up to the real goodbye. We finished our meal and walked outside and hung around the entrance for a minute. We were all reluctant to leave, because that would mean that summer was officially over. We were all hugging each other, saying how much we would miss each other, and then we spontaneously formed into a huddle, all ten of us. We wrapped our arms around each other and leaned our heads into the circle and started talking about all the crazy nights, all the mellow nights, and all the highlights of the summer. We were truly in the moment, and at the moment all we had was love for each other. It was a good last goodbye, one that I will remember forever. And even though I miss those motherfuckers, I can’t be too sad because I will see them again someday. Too bad someday isn’t tomorrow though.

Critically Rated at 16/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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September 22, 2013 · 12:03 pm

Rainy Saturdays

I woke up last Saturday to the gentle pitter-patter of rain falling outside my window. And I was glad that it was raining. When you were a kid, rainy Saturdays were terrible. All you had was two days of freedom each weekend, and being stuck inside was pure torture. It meant that you couldn’t run around and climb trees and play sports with the neighborhood kids. You had to stay inside and play crummy board games or do puzzles that were always missing a piece with your sister. But now you’re an adult and rainy Saturdays means catching up on Breaking Bad or having a marathon Netflix session. Rainy Saturdays are a perfectly valid excuse to procrastinate and avoid doing laundry, paying bills, or running errands. You’re supposed to be lazy on a rainy Saturday. It’s your God-given right. So take advantage of that and don’t do anything productive.

Critically Rated at 14/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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September 20, 2013 · 8:40 pm

Broken Showerhead

I have a broken showerhead. It sucks because I rely on showers to wake up in the morning. No showerhead means no shower. The hot water works fine. The bathtub part works fine. But the water refuses to come out of the showerhead. All I get is a trickle and a trickle isn’t enough to do anything. I’ve been resorted to using plastic cups to get clean. I’ll fill up a couple of cups and use it to shampoo my hair and to lather up, then use it to rinse off. It’s not satisfying but it’s effective. I get clean but it’s not enjoyable. And taking a shower is half hygienic and half leisure, so I’m not getting the full experience. It kind of sucks. Actually, it really sucks. I rely on showers. Baths don’t do anything for me and neither do cups of hot water.

Critically Rated at 4/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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September 18, 2013 · 11:45 pm

Shooting Rubber Bands at People

Rubber bands are useful for a lot of things. They hold produce together. You can use them to seal up a plastic bag. You can make a rubber band ball. You can keep your hair out of your face. But the best thing to do is to shoot them at other people. You wrap it around your fingers and thumb, take aim, and let that fucker fly. Try to aim for the chest, because it sucks when you get someone in the eye. They get blinded and you feel bad for a few days. But shooting rubber bands at people is not something to ignore. You have to do it. It’s a compulsion, an obligation to weaponize mundane objects. It’s the American way.

Critically Rated at 12/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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September 18, 2013 · 11:35 pm

Eavesdropping

Eavesdropping is the auditory equivalent of people watching, only you are secretly listening in on their conversation instead of discretely looking at them. It works really well if you have headphone in without any music playing. People have loose tongues if they think that nobody is paying attention. They say that the world is full of assholes and idiots. Eavesdropping confirms that. You shouldn’t speak unless it’s worth saying. Most of the things you hear are stupid and trivial, but occasionally you overhear some interesting tidbits or juicy gossip, and that’s reason enough to keep eavesdropping. The most important thing to remember about eavesdropping is keeping yourself from butting in. You’re just listening to the conversation; you aren’t a part of it.

Critically Rated at 13/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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September 17, 2013 · 12:20 pm

Helping a Little Old Lady

I was waiting for the bus last week, and it finally pulled up, stopped, and opened the doors. Common courtesy requires that you wait for the other passengers to get off before you get on, and so I waited as a little old lady came scuffling up to the exit. She was going at a snail’s pace, seemingly in slow motion, and it was keeping the other passengers from boarding. So I stepped up onto the bus and the driver instantly snapped and started yelling at me, “LET THE PEOPLE OFF FIRST!” I gave him a dirty look, kept on climbing up, approached the little old lady, and offered her my arm. She gratefully took it and thanked me, and together we steadily made our way to the exit. Once she was safely off the bus, I paid for my fare and got my transfer from the driver, and I could tell he felt like an asshole for assuming that I was just a punk trying to shove my way onto the bus. There were a dozen people around that were perfectly content with watching a little old lady struggle because it’s not their problem. I can’t do that. If I see a problem, if I’m aware of it, it becomes my problem. I can’t change the world, but helping a little old lady is a start.

Critically Rated at 14/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

 

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September 16, 2013 · 12:25 pm

Shit Talking

Everybody talks shit about everyone. You talk shit about your friends and they talk shit about you. They still love you and you still love them, but they will start analyzing your flaws the second you walk out of the room and they will make fun of your shirt for good measure. It’s human nature. We are all assholes but we pretend not to be. That’s why most shit talking is done behind your back and behind closed doors. You know that people talk shit about you, but you really don’t want to know what they are saying. Ignorance is bliss, right? Don’t it too personally because you know that you talk shit too and you don’t want to be a hypocrite. I’m not saying that shit talking is a good thing. I’m not saying that it’s a bad thing. I’m just saying that it’s a thing that you have to deal with, so you might as well get used to it.

Critically Rated at 7/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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September 15, 2013 · 6:49 pm

Short Girls with Tall Guys

They say that opposites attract, but there’s something creepy about short girls with tall guys. She looks like a little girl and he looks like a pedophile. If the girl says that she doesn’t have daddy issues, she’s obviously lying. Short girls should go out with short guys. I’m not saying that because I’m a short guy. I’m just saying that because it makes sense. We can all agree that the guy should be the taller one in the relationship… and all these short girls going for tall guys is really disturbing the dating pool for short guys. We can’t compete with tall guys. They stretch things out and turn that that cave into a cavern (That’s a really fucked up joke. I hope you appreciate it).

Critically Rated at 6/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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September 14, 2013 · 8:58 am

People Who Can Sleep Anywhere

I don’t trust people who can sleep anywhere and anytime. There’s just something suspicious about it. There’s a whole process and routine behind going to bed. You get dressed for bed, you brush your teeth, and you read a book or watch TV or listen to music as you drift off to sleep, then you crash hard for 6-8 hours and wake up in the morning. That’s what normal people do. But some people disrupt the universe by falling asleep in random places at random times and I don’t understand how they do it. My friend can fall asleep no matter what is going on. She can be at a party, at a sporting event, on a plane, on a goddamned jet ski and just close her eyes and start sleeping. It’s unbelievable; I don’t know how she does it. She can be surrounded by a thousand people with music blasting and lights blaring and simply close her eyes, shut it all out, and start snoozing. We will all be getting ready to go out, and when the cab finally shows up, she will be sprawled out on sofa completely comatose. It’s not right and it’s not fair. I have to grab a Red Bull if I’m tired. I just can’t do naps.

Critically Rated at 5/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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September 14, 2013 · 8:55 am

Camel Crush

I’m not really a smoker. A cigarette smoker. But sometimes I will buy a pack and I don’t care what kind I get. I don’t care about the brand, I don’t care if they are cloves, regular cigarettes, or menthols. The other day I bummed a cigarette off a friend, and he happened to carrying a pack of Camel Crush. They are cigarettes with a mentholated capsule in the filter. So you light the cigarette, take a few drags, and then you crush the filter and you suddenly have a menthol. It’s a hybrid, it’s a mutant, and it’s the future. I didn’t even know they had that kind of cigarette technology. I’m not saying that you should smoke, but you really can’t go wrong with Camel Crush is you’re an amateur like me.

Critically Rated at 14/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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September 13, 2013 · 8:55 pm

Nickname

A nickname is an alternative/casual name for a person, place, or pet. Some people use generic nicknames: Robert will go by Bob. Richard will go by Rick or Dick. William becomes Will, Bill, Willy, or Billy. Those are cliché nicknames that don’t have any real meaning. A real nickname is something that you earn. It’s a badge of honor. Not everybody gets one. Some people get stuck with bad nicknames that become impossible to escape. My friend shat himself at a high school party and is still known as The Party Pooper almost ten years later. But a good nickname is a sign of endearment. If someone creates a good nickname for you, you should embrace it and consider yourself lucky. A good nickname can also double as an inside joke, and you can reminisce and reflect about how you got your nickname every time somebody says it. It’s like a bonding experience. I recently went on a trip to Vegas with a few friends, and we all came back with new nicknames for each other. You can’t force a nickname. The best nicknames are spur of the moment creations and are completely spontaneous. But they will last for a lifetime if they fit your personality.

Critically Rated at 16/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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September 12, 2013 · 9:56 am

My Chest Hair

I finally have chest hair. Well, a chest hair. As in one single solitary chest hair. It only took me 28 years and five months to grow it, but I grew it, and it’s all mine. It’s attached by a root and everything. It even rustles gently in the breeze. I think that I got it from when I went to Vegas last week. I’m a man now, up there with Tom Selleck and Pierce Brosnan, and it’s all thanks to my hairy chest. The ladies are lining up now. I never thought that I would ever have a chest hair. I really didn’t think I was genetically capable of it. My dad has no chest hair, so I’ve always assumed that I would continue the trend of being chest bald. I actually found gray hairs on my head before I grew a chest hair. Think about how amazingly pathetic that is. I don’t use the word pity very often, but my chest hair situation was pretty pitiful. I guess pitiful is better than non-existent, so I shouldn’t be complaining. I’m sure there are a lot of other guys who wish that they had a chest hair too. Just hope and believe, and maybe someday you will join the big boy club like me.

Critically Rated at 13/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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September 10, 2013 · 1:50 pm

Fighting on Vacation

You’re going to fight on your vacation. It doesn’t matter if you’re on vacation with your friends or with your family. It doesn’t matter if you’re an hour from home or twelve hours from home. At some point there will be raised voices and a heated exchange. It’s inevitable, it’s unavoidable, and it’s going to fucking happen. It’s impossible to be stuck in close proximity with other people without butting heads at some point. Every gets tired and cranky, and it doesn’t take much to rub someone the wrong way. Everyone has their own itinerary; their own stuff that they want to see or do, and not everyone will get their way. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices for the group at the expense of your own personal enjoyment. And sometimes you have to stand up for yourself and make a stink. Fighting on vacation is a tradition as old as going on vacation. You can’t have one without the other. Just try to resolve things before they get too escalated, because it’s better to suffer together than to suffer alone in a strange place.

Critically Rated at 10/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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September 9, 2013 · 9:02 pm

Using a Toilet Seat Cover after Swimming

I made a mistake the other day. I was swimming at a hotel pool when the McDonald’s I had for lunch came back to haunt me. I had to take a shit and I had to take one immediately. I jumped out of the pool and made my way to the bathroom, and luckily the stall was unoccupied. I went inside and locked the door, put a toilet seat cover down for protection, dropped my swim trunks and proceeded to empty my bowels. I realized that I had a problem a few minutes into my poop: I was soaking wet and the piece of paper I was sitting on was now adhered to my backside. After I finished taking the Browns to the Super Bowl and wiping, I had to slowly peel the toilet seat cover off my skin, but it wasn’t easy. I had to scrub it and rub it to get it off, and I had to do it quietly to avoid attracting attention from the other people in the bathroom. That’s not something that you want to explain to strangers. Being hygienic is cool and all, but using a toilet seat cover after swimming is not something I would recommend.

Critically Rated at 6/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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September 8, 2013 · 1:05 pm

Turbulence

I’m not scared of flying, but I’m not much of a fan of turbulence. I know that planes want to be in the air, that they are designed to deal with sudden dips and drops and violent shakes, but it’s still pretty unsettling to know that you will plummet to your death if the wing rips off. All you can do is to try not to spill your drink or think about dying in a horrifying crash. And on that note, I don’t think that floatation devices under the seat are particularly helpful either. My last flight was from San Francisco to Las Vegas. I noticed that there aren’t too many places to execute an emergency water landing when you’re flying over the desert. I’d prefer a parachute under my seat instead. At least give me a fucking chance to survive. Flying is statistically the safest way to travel. But turbulence can still make you fall out of the sky.

Critically Rated at 5/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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September 7, 2013 · 11:26 am

Crying Babies on a Plane

I’m not a violent person, but I think it should be legal to throw a baby out of an airplane if it won’t stop crying. I realize that babies are precious, they are a miracle, a symbol of life, blah blah blah… but if it doesn’t shut up in two seconds, I am going to open the emergency door and fling that little fucker into the clouds below. And I would be hailed as a hero. The other passengers would cheer, the flight attendants would give me an extra bag of peanuts, the captain would invite me into the cockpit and let me steer the plane a little bit. They only person who would be remotely upset is the grieving mother, and even she’s kind of relieved. I probably did her a favor. Crying babies are annoying enough, but there’s no escape from a crying baby on a plane. They cry and they cry and they cry some more. Then they stop crying for a moment and you think that it’s finally over. Then they start crying again and it’s even louder this time. You only have two choices… You can kill yourself or you can kill the baby. And you’re way more invested in your own life. It only makes sense that the baby has to go.

Critically Rated at 3/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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September 6, 2013 · 12:47 pm

At Least Pretend to Wash Your Hands

I was using the urinal in the men’s room the other day when I heard a toilet flush, and I saw a guy come out of the stall adjusting his belt. He had clearly just taken a shit. He walked over to the bathroom mirror, checked his hair, and walked out of the bathroom without washing his hands. My mind was blown. You should always wash your hands after you use a public bathroom. Especially if there are other people in the bathroom. At least pretend to wash your hands. You want other people to think that you are normal, right? Normal people don’t walk around with poopy hands, and even if they did, they wouldn’t advertise it. You’re supposed to wash your hands, or at the very least have other people think that you did. That’s how the world works.

Critically Rated at 9/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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