Part 1 - http://ryforry.blogspot.com/2009/01/things-i-dont-trust.html
Part 2 - http://ryforry.blogspot.com/2009/02/things-i-dont-trust-part-2.html
Part 3 - http://ryforry.blogspot.com/2009/05/things-i-dont-trust-part-3_08.html
Ok, on to the issues...
18) Girls Who Use the F-Bomb Excessively
Let's face it, anyone who uses excessive profanity is at very least somewhat obnoxious to be around, but for whatever reason, girls with especially bad potty-mouths seem to make me cringe a little more. Getting deeper into it, "fuck" is hardly acceptable to say in cases of extreme emotional outpouring let alone in casual conversation. Though I do not think it's morally right for myself or anyone to swear, I actually am not personally bothered by any cursing if it's used in certain contexts. I understand people get caught up in the heat of the moment sometimes, heck I know I do. I actually think it's attractive when a girl gets fired up enough to drop some 4-letter zingers if it happens relatively infrequently. But when it gets to the point that a girl in one of my classes was at last semester, it becomes completely repulsive.
This girl would sit there, whining about anything and everything in her life (which also was annoying) while outputting more Fs than an unprepared student. I've never seen someone so physically attractive to me initially transform to look so indescribably hideous in a matter of minutes. And while I'm on the subject of cursing, I have to get into cursing and comedy. I have been trying to eliminate doing anything funny that is only funny because it has a carefully planted/specifically emphasized curse. Dane Cook is one of many comics who have made a living off of yelling curse words in punchlines to get cheap laughs out of mediocre material. (I should clarify, the material he actually did not steal from other comedians) This is also a gimmick professors use to get students approval/attention. It lacks creativity, and it butchers language, and I therefor withdraw trust from excessive f-bomb droppers, especially of the female variety.19) Girls Who Talk About Their BFs Way Too Much
Last female-related one before this starts sounding like a "boys rule, girls drool" entry. Boys and girls both rule and drool on occasion, but boys usually don't talk incessantly about their girlfriends when the conversation does not warrant it whatsoever. I had a class last semester (and came to the realization that I had a least one every semester I was in school) where girls would drop the fact that they had a boyfriend into discussions about writing form or job hunting. There is no better way for a girl to scream "I AM TOTALLY INSECURE!!!" than to bring up the fact that she is not single repeatedly. There was one main culprit in this regard among the many last semester that stood out. She separated herself by repeatedly mentioning her boyfriend when it was completely irrelevant to the discussion, and finished the semester by coming to class drunk and crying (or leaving for portions of class to cry) for the final 2 weeks. Her friend, who also came to class smashed on a reg, informed me and another guy that her boyfriend was being a total jerk and that he actually always had been. Sorry if it makes me insensitive, but I could never trust that type. (Side story: The girls who regularly came to class drunk sat on one side of the room and the majority who came sober sat in the middle or on the opposite side. There were 4 guys total in this class. We sat in the back and watched as the sober side seethed with anger more and more every class as the drunk side became louder and more obnoxious with each passing week. It got to the point where there were a few shouting matches, and more than a few evenings where the sausage quartet would sit in the back and be thankful we weren't involved....high comedy)
20) My Cellphone
My phone currently shuts off randomly for no reason. Something must be wrong with the battery, but whatever the case, it's clear that I'm going to be running from a deranged homeless man with a machete and pull out my phone to call the cops for help only to find it shut off. Instead of trying to turn the phone on however, I'll probably be so annoyed that it's dead, my blurred judgment will cause me to angrily hurl it, thus rendering me incapable of being found so someone can ID the body. Merciful Heavens!
21) My Own Mind Thinking Up Lame Analogies
Recently I find myself subconsciously finding analogous ways to say/think about everything. Case and point, which is also applicable to blogging: Name dropping in the blogosphere. I feel like a little kid, and Liz and Briggsy are my parents. When I drop their names in a blog, I'm the tyke who is performing a song on stage. I see them and neglect my theatrical duties and instead ecstatically smile and wave at them in the crowd till they acknowledge me. When they drop mine, it's like the "nice-work pal" pat on the head or the "great-job sport" ikeem cone. I would say that I have an inferiority complex since I'm referring to myself as a tot in my own head, but the thing is, this is just one of the numerous absurd analogies my mind has been cooking up recently. I'll blame it on my "hippie" days at Delco Christian.
22) Not Having a Pooping Comfort Zone
My sis says I am way too liberal in bringing up crap convo. I would tend to agree with her, and though I have already posted an entirely blog devoted to defecation, I have to make another point on the issue. How can someone be fine going in a public bathroom? Maybe there isn't anyone in existence who enjoys dropping trou when they're outside of a private restroom, but if people like that do exist, I certainly don't trust them. The reason this comes up now is thanks to my little Caribbean love child Desmond's. He took his first dump since I joined the staff at Elwyn, which is mind boggling considering how much he eats, but I digress...he says "Wyan, hafta bafwoom...booboo" I'm thinking the kid is saying he fell when we were last in there and got hurt, but no, he in fact had to take his first "booboo" ever on my watch. We go in, with me still reeling from the fact that he does poop. We get in and he yells from the stall "cldothes off" which is Desmond for "clothes off". I'm not sure what he's talking about but my suspicion is later confirmed by his old teacher that he indeed likes to dump all his clothes on while he is, well...doing some dumping of his own. "Nah Des, keep your clothes on buddy," I respond reassuringly, yet quietly knowing from personal experience that it won't be as good for him since he's not totally in his element. "Wyan...cldose door" (Ryan...close the door). The stall door being shut, I naturally respond, "the door is closed Des." He responds in frustration, "No...get out...cldose bafwoom door". In that moment my respect for my little man shot skyward. He is no different from me. Would I want someone standing in the bathroom waiting for me while I'm trying go #2? Of course not. I immediately respect his wishes and wait outside the bathroom door until I hear him shout "I'm dooone." Let's not lose the moral of the story though. Everyone has (or at least should have) a comfort zone when it comes to using the can. Though Desmond and I may differ in skin color, age, and speed at which we resort to violence when we don't get our way, he gained my trust through his desire for being in his comfort zone when taking the Browns to the Super Bowl.
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