fuckawf

Oh, my stars. Every couple months, when I remember that it even exists, I like to pour myself a mighty cup o’ joe and sit down and read that weird, inexplicable “message requests” option in my Facebook messages. Apparently it’s from people who you either blocked for one reason or another or who didn’t meet your standards/make the cut on your friends list in the first place.

HOLY SHIT.

THE DANGEROUSLY IMBALANCED CRAZY MOTHERFUCKERS are actually almost beautiful and poetic in their SHEER UNHINGED INSANITY. Along with all of the usual lunatic Christian fringe types who love me so much, I even had a young Leftist Liberal broad in there this time trying to tell me that it is actually REALLY AWESOME that everybody is offended by every fucking thing all the fucking time and anybody who disagrees with her just needs to shut up. 

I guess HER crazy had already offended ME at an earlier date, because when I ran a systems check on her, I discovered that I had already blocked her months ago. It was probably her ANNOYING, PRETENTIOUS, OFF TRACK habit of using the trendy term “problematic” several times in her unhinged missive that made me wish her into the motherloving cornfield with my mousepad.

When I hear “problematic”, it honestly makes me wanna KICK ASS! It is just SO reflective of everything that I rage against right now. PHONY. PRETENTIOUS. DETACHED. CONDESCENDING. ANNOYING. PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE. SHOWBOATY. MEANINGLESS. OUT-OF-TOUCH. INSINCERE. ACADEMIC DRIVEL. HORSESHIT. Don’t say that something is PROBLEMATIC in your bored, assholish, intellectual voice. If something is OFF TRACK, don’t stand back, lock your grad-school jaw, and beat around the bush. Just fucking CALL IT. Just fucking SAY IT.

I am so done with all this nonsense.

Anyway, it’s so weird. It would never even OCCUR to me to go on a stranger’s page or to send them a message chastising them for their very own opinions that they have posted on their very own Facebook pages. Such insanity. Two words:

BAD FUCKING FORM.

Okay, that was three. So kick me in the taco.

At any rate…you know the drill:

FUCK OFF, LADY.

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About muffybolding

Muffy Bolding is a mother/writer/actor/knitter/feminist/withered debutante who likes the smell of asparagus pee, and remains obsessed with the bathroom hygiene of her three children -- despite the fact that they are 23, 19, and 16. She is blissfully married to a cute Jewish boy who looks like Willie Wonka, but remains tragically in love with the dead poet, Ted Hughes. She has the mouth of a Teamster, and her patron saint is Rocco (pestilence relief.) Ms. Bolding lives in Southern California, where she enjoys typing words, making movies, and plucking the rings from the fingers of the dead. She was the co-creator and Editor-in-Chief of the award winning satire zine, Fresno Lampoon, and in between writing screenplays, carnival barking, and savagely threatening her trio of darling larvae with a wooden spoon, she currently publishes the zine, "Withered Debutante." More of her work can also be found in the anthology, "Mamaphonic: Balancing Motherhood and Other Creative Acts", the compilation zine, "Mamaphiles III: Coming Home", as well as in The Cortland Review and hipmama.com. She is currently writing and producing for film and television, and working on a book of essays entitled, "Inside A Chinese Dragon." She has slept around, but not nearly as much as she would have liked.
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