Things That Really Frost My Ass – Uncle Hardass’ Random Complaints

The Complainer in Chief…

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#21 – Owning a Pickup Truck

I love pickup trucks.  A pickup truck is by far the best vehicle ever invented.  It gets you where you need to go, there’s plenty of space in the back to carry your stuff and its got four wheel drive to get you through the snow.

All that being said, while I love pickup trucks, I hate owning one.  I used to own one and I never will again.  Owning a pickup truck is the closest a human being will ever get to being a real live superhero.

Imagine how Superman must feel when he tries to chill out in his Fortress of Solitude.  He tries to watch a movie on that ice screen his dead father is always nagging him on, maybe eating a taco and drinking a beer, but he can’t relax because the voices of ten thousand people in need of help are passing into his ears.  “Oh, save me, Superman!  Save me!  I’m an idiot who got my dumbass stuck out on a ledge and now you have to drop everything you are doing this instant to come rescue me!”

Similarly, if you buy a pickup truck, you will be surprised how many so-called friends and long lost family members you suddenly have.  Your phone will be ringing off the hook day and night.  “Oh, this is your cousin Matilda.  I’m moving to a new apartment.  Will you help me move all your shit with your pickup truck?”

And really, if you’re a responsible citizen, what can you do?  Say no?  You can’t say no.  You’re “Truck Owner Man,” the world’s greatest superhero, able to cart people’s shit all over creation with your power of having the foresight to purchase a vehicle with ample cargo space.

Do you think there aren’t times when Superman doesn’t shake his head and say, “Screw that moron on the ledge.  It’s super beer and taco time!”  Of course he does.  But he always does the right thing in the end.

I’m not as nice as Superman.  I used to chew people like Cousin Matilda out for not buying a truck.  “If you can afford to drive a second hand Prius then you can afford to drive a used pickup truck, so go get one and stop mooching off of mine,” I’d say.  Then I’d give up my lovely evening of watching Matlock and haul ass over to help the old broad because what am I supposed to do?  It’s not like I can sit at home watching TV and enjoy myself while Cousin Matilda is wheeling a ten foot boudoir stuffed full of her unmentionables across town on a dolly all by herself.  Superman couldn’t enjoy his super beer and super taco while that dumbass was trapped on the ledge either.  It’s not easy having super powers.

Luckily, I don’t own a pickup truck anymore.  I couldn’t handle the pressure of all the useless imbeciles who refused to buy their own pickup trucks.  I feel like Superman must have felt that time he temporarily gave up his powers.  I’m sure he would have preferred a life where he could have flown to work and opened up beer cans with his laser vision and checked out women naked with his X-ray vision, but he had to give that all up just to take a break from all the dummies who needed him.  I can relate, as I loved having a nice, spacious pickup trunk to haul all my garbage to the dump and pick up my multiple cases of  weapons grade strength hemorrhoid cream, but I had to give up that power just to save myself from truckless fools.

I hate people.  I love trucks.

#22 – Nesting Dolls

Nesting dolls are the dumbest thing ever invented by the Russians, second only to communism.  “Oh look!  It’s a doll inside a doll and that doll has a doll inside of it and then that doll has a doll inside of it…”

Seriously.  If that amuses you, then you have my pity.  That’s an amazing accomplishment because I have very little pity to give.

#23 – That Nimrod Who Blares on His Horn at the Exact Second the Light Turns Green

Oh, pardon me, Your Majesty!  I had no idea that you were the Queen of England and the entire second it took for my brain to register, “Oh, hey!  The light is green!” was a rude and unforgivable inconvenience to your ability to run England.

That is, I assume you are royalty and you have somewhere very important to get to and that the impending task waiting for you at your destination is so crucial that you were literally unable to wait an entire second.

What?  You aren’t royalty and you have nowhere to go because you’re a jobless jackass?  I thought so.  Do me a favor and shove that horn up your ass and then honk it about ten or twenty thousand times so you know how the rest of us feel, OK pal?  Then get a job.  No one likes a loser.

#24 – Diet Anything

Diet soda.  Low fat cookies.  Sugar free ice cream.  Look fatties, if you want to not be fat, then just eat less of whatever you are eating because all of that fake sugar and aspartame is pickling your brain and turning you into a mindless zombie.  You know what your good old Uncle Hardass does when he wants a Diet Coke?  He just drinks half a coke.  Pour the other out, let a thirsty bumblebee lick it off the grass or something.  Common sense is all it is, people.

#25 – College

College, schmollege.  You know what college is?  A four year party, peppered with occasional instances of learning that you take out an enormous loan for, a loan which is then paid off for the rest of your life?

Want the college experience?  You can get it all in one night.  Go to a titty bar, get drunk, talk to a bunch of dumb millennials and say thinks like “woke” and then read a summary of Plato online.  There you go, schmuck, I just saved you over a hundred grand easy.  You’re welcome.

#26 – People Who Wear Camouflage

If you’re wearing camouflage because you’re in the Army, then thank you for your service, soldier.  My only complaint is that there isn’t enough blood of America’s many, many enemies spilled all over your uniform.  I never washed my uniform.  I just let the blood of a thousand Nazis soak into it in order to scare away the other Nazis.  I kept it on after I got home because it worked just as well to scare off solicitors, bill collectors, and that neighbor who was a lowlife sponge, always asking to borrow a cup of sugar because he couldn’t be bothered to haul his ass to the store.

If you’re wearing camouflage because you think it looks cool, then take off that uniform like material because you haven’t earned the right to wear it.  Plus, how is camp going to make you bend in when you are walking through a big city?  If you want to blend into a city, just soak your dirtiest, most raggedy looking clothes in a bucket of cat urine for three days, then put them on and take a nap on a park bench while clutching a wine bottle in a brown paper bag.

Also, what’s up with the pink camo?  Ladies, until they invent a pink forest, we can still see you.

#27 – Paying for Extra Cheese on My Pizza

This is America, damn it.  A pizza comes with cheese, lots of cheese, and frankly, as much cheese as I damn well please.  The price should be the same no matter how much cheese I want and I reserve the right to demand piles upon piles of cheese be placed upon my pizza if I so choose.  Charging me for extra cheese is like charging me for extra air.  I shouldn’t be punished just because I love cheese.  My toilet is getting enough punishment already.

#28 – Poop Yogurt

I don’t get that commercial where they try to sell yogurt that makes women poop.  I mean, God bless you, constipated ladies.  I hope that you all poop soon, but it’s not like constipation is a male or female thing.  Sometimes I get backed up like the expressway on rush hour for five or six days and I think, “Hey maybe I’ll get some of that yogurt that makes you drop a deuce” but then I get afraid to buy it for fear that the cashier will accuse me of fraud for trying to buy pooping yogurt for constipated ladies while I have a penis.

#29 – Toilet Paper

Look people, Europeans are wrong on 99.99% of things.  You’ve got the Brits and their teeth that look like all they do is walk into doors all day.  You’ve got the French and their women who never share their pits and end up looking like they just put Bigfoot in a headlock.  Don’t even get me started on the Belgians.  They make one good waffle and they think that means they can just coast forever.

But, when someone’s right, I’m not afraid to say it, and the Europeans are right about bidets.  Just stick your fanny over a water jet, take a nice, cool water blast up your tucas and wowie, zowie, no more stink in your backdoor.

Why are we wasting money and trees on toilet paper when we can just use water, nature’s toilet paper?  Hell, with a good bidet, you’ll never be smelly and you’ll never be thirsty.  Wash your butt and take a drink.  I assume that’s OK but then again, I’m no scientist.

#30 – Nuts in Baked Goods

Ever have someone knock on your door and say, “Hello friend, I just baked you a nice batch of chocolate chip cookies!”  So then your mouth starts to water and you can’t wait to dig in to all that gooey chocolate and boom, there they are…nuts.  Bleh.

Don’t get me wrong.  I love nuts.  The more big nuts in my mouth, the better.  Shut up.  I know how that sounds but I don’t care.  I love nuts.  I just don’t like them in my cookies, or brownies, or bread, or any kind of bakery.  Put your nuts in my mouth, but not in my buns, thank you very much.







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2 thoughts on “Things That Really Frost My Ass – Uncle Hardass’ Random Complaints

  1. My brother owns a pickup truck (here in NZ we call it a ‘ute’, as in ‘utility vehicle’). The available load space is enormous and well organised, as I discovered recently when trying to put much-less-than-a-ute-load into my Toyota Camry. It didn’t fit. Sedans just don’t cut it – although, that said, there was the Leyland P-76, an early-70’s Australian sedan that had a really enormous boot (trunk). You could load a standard 44-gallon drum into it. I kid you not:

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