By: Uncle Hardass, Official Bookshelf Battle Blog Grumpy Old Man Correspondent
Hello degenerate 3.5 readers.
Still working on your writing careers I see? Good for you. You know, I just wrote a poem. Let me know what you think:
Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
Get your ass a job at the salt mines.
Yes, I’m talking to you.
Ah, but we all know you won’t. That’s ok. Just keep being a major disappointment to your parents. I don’t have time to complain about your lack of a work ethic anyway, because I have the following complaints instead:
#1 – The Beach
Do you know some slack jawed buffoon who, every summer, walks around like a schmuck saying, “I love the beach!” Well, do the world a favor and slap that idiot about eighty or ninety times in the face with a wet noodle, will ya?
Holy crap sandwich, how I hate the beach. It’s hot. It smells. It’s filled with assholes who are just sitting around like a bunch of fat, bloated iguanas, splayed out under the hot sun burning themselves to a crisp because they think getting tan will somehow make them look better. I’m sorry, but tanning doesn’t remove ugly. If you were ugly before, you’ll be ugly after.
Here’s an important quote to remember:
“Well, I thought you were ugly before but now I really want to have sex with you now that you sat out on the beach and got burnt to a crisp all day like a stupid dumbass.”
– Literally No One Ever
And who wants to swim in the open ocean anyway? Really. Who wants to put their bare feet down in sand they can’t see. Sand filled with God only knows what. Used hypodermic needles. Pinchy crabs. Snappy lobsters. Sea lice. Sea cucumbers. Sea horses. Whale shit. Narwhal boogers. Seal urine. Chopped up pieces of mobsters who turned stool pigeon. The ocean is one giant, disgusting shit stew and you don’t want to be one of those morons who jumps into it, trust me.
Nothing good ever happened at the beach and nothing ever will.
#2 – Having An Itchy Butt Hole
You ever get a real deep itch, about twenty thousand leagues below the surface of your butt crack? Damn, those itches get in there deep. And let’s face it. There’s no way to get rid of it other than to take out your pointer finger and point it straight up the deepest, darkest part of your nether regions.
The thing I want to know is why is it not socially acceptable to do this in public? I mean, seriously people, it’s 2017 for crying out loud. Itches are a normal bodily function and a man ought to be able to scratch himself wherever, and whenever, the mood to scratch strikes.
By the way, I’m no sexist. Women ought to be allowed to scratch their lady business whenever and wherever they want too. That’s right. Your old Uncle Hardass is a virtual Gloria Steinem.
#3 – Defective Pistachios
Kids, I love a good bag of pistachios. They’re the best food because you work up a sweat eating them, what with having to break them open and throw away the shells and all. But I hate it when I get a shell that won’t open. Sometimes the shell completely covers the pistachio and there’s no way to open it. Or, sometimes there’s like a little tiny opening but I can’t get in there. (Ahem. That’s what she said. I hear you kids like that joke, so there you go.)
I always collect all of the defective pistachios, put them in a plastic cup, then take them back to the store and demand a refund equal to the amount of pistachios I was not able to eat. I mean, I’m not a greedy son of a bitch. I don’t want the full cost of the bag. I did eat most of them, after all. I just don’t think I should be charged for defective nuts. This isn’t Communist Russia, after all. If people have to keep paying for unbreakable nuts then it’s like we lost the war.
#4 – That I Still Have to Buy Batteries and Keep Them Around
I’m old as shit and even I think this is ridiculous. Why can’t everything, from my TV remote control to that automatic dildo my ex-wife Gertie left behind that I swear I do not use whatsoever, just be plugged into the wall and charged?
Maybe it’s because…
#5 – Charging Cables Are Either Lost or They End Up Tied Up Together Like Spaghetti.
I swear, these technology companies make a mint off the fact that I’m a doddering old bastard who can’t keep track of his charging cords, so I have to constantly buy new ones. Plus, if I throw them in a drawer in an effort to keep them safe, they end up looking as if a bunch of gnomes snuck into the drawer and tied them all together. “WTF?” as the whippersnappers say.
Those are the five complaints on my mind lately, 3.5 dummies. If you have anything that frosts your ass, leave it in the comments, or better yet, get a job and stop sponging off the system, you lousy layabouts.