People’s voices are, for the most part, really annoying. Even people you like, over time, just get to you. The way they say things, their syntax and expressions, just the whole kit and caboodle (that term is heavily underutilized) will likely drive you nuts over time. That’s why we, as people, need some moments of silence, or you know, a couple hours of Homeland, in order to disconnect and forget that human interactions form the basis of our mundane lives.
Those voices, the oral window into the rotten souls of our fellow man, are made all the more insufferable when talking on their cell phones. They become louder, thinking that it’s still 2001 when talking on the phone was about as clear as a CB radio from space, and also, hearing just one side of a conversation is just aggravating. Continue Reading→
Just like Fight Club, the first rule of fantasy sports should be you don’t talk about fantasy sports. I view fantasy sports like I view religion, in that everyone is entitled to practice whatever they’d like, but I don’t want to hear about it and will ruthlessly mock you if you try and convince me that Jonah did in fact survive three days in the belly of whale or that Tim Tebow is an NFL caliber quarterback.
Fantasy season is in full swing now, thanks to its main squeeze football. Surely you’ve overheard, or god forbid, have directly been involved in a discussion with someone going on about their fantasy football team(s). For some people, fantasy season is literally the most compelling and stressful time in their lives. What with deciding between who to start, and the crisis management that goes into dealing with an injured player. It’s time consuming and will turn all your loved ones against you. Even your fantasy friends, who you start the season with on good terms, will become your enemies because of their dirty tricks and petty complaints on the comment boards. Trust me when I tell you that a waiver wire argument can get more heated than divorce proceedings. Continue Reading→
I like my job, in that it gives me money to live and play with. But other than that, it’s really no more than a soul crushing environment filled with strangers who you’re forced to spend more time with than your own family or friends (who are bad enough as it stands).
To make matters worse, these people, if you can call them that (more like animals devoid of humour, compassion and intelligence), ensure that you dislike them even more by committing the various cardinal sins of the workplace. And the worst part is that you can never lash out or call them on it (other than anonymous, passive aggressive Post-it notes, which have probably averted countless workplace tragedies). You have to sit there and take it, as the last thing you want is having to spend even a single minute with an HR person, because they are literally the worst people on earth, similar to lawyers but without the smarts and penchant for blow. Continue Reading→
I am a lover of music. I listen, I watch, I even buy vinyl, because it’s more pretentious than CDs. I support artists, I encourage creation. But some guy that knows two Neil Young songs and lays one down twice a year with an acoustic guitar at the cottage is not fucking music, it’s noise.
Today we are debuting a new sector to Society Camp, our newly minted Society School. Society School is exactly like Society Camp, except for kids (12 and under). We only call it a ‘school’ to a) make it sound worse to the kids; and b) make it sound better to their awful parents. Don’t worry, we have staff on-hand to make sure that overnighters don’t wet the bed etc., as mattresses are expensive, even just loosely filled bags of plastic bottles. Obviously that was a joke, we actually buy them secondhand from hotels that have just renovated due to bed bugs.
Our inaugural Society School post will focus on a classic complaint against kids (and drunk jerks monopolizing resort swim-up bars), pissing in the goddamn pool. Continue Reading→
It’s disgusting enough that people choose to gallivant around the city in sandals like the streets are their goddamn gym shower, but this foot assault is made all the worse when they decide to pop them off in public spaces that aren’t a beach and expose their bunion covered hooves to the world. Continue Reading→
Congrats, you got drunk one night, or tried to save a failing relationship, and you’re now stuck with a little critter who you love more than anything in this world, other than your own sense of self-worth.
Last I checked, the decision to have children rests solely on the parents, accident or not. Unless I somehow orchestrated a molly fueled date in a majestic setting for you and your lover, where the only outcome would be sweet baby making, I had nothing to do with the process. Yet every damn day, I’m impeded in my quest to live and roam free throughout city streets and stores, because of your stupid baby strollers. Continue Reading→
Sorry for the delay folks. Five days ago, it was really, really windy and I saw no less than three hats fly off peoples’ heads, and I have just now regained my composure. There is nothing more joy producing in this world, than watching a grown man chase a ten dollar hat through traffic, while balancing a smoothie and a mustard covered hot dog that will one day give him colon cancer.
To mark our return from hysterical laughter at the expense of others via our cheeky friend the wind, we are back with another edition of Fail Bag, where you, our loyal but cheap reader, send in an example of some awful things you or your fellow man are spewing onto society. Continue Reading→
It’s disgusting enough to have to watch people shovel food into their filthy mouths with the gumption of Joey Chestnut, without having to be further annoyed by the manner in which they decide to consume their beverage.
Drinking, along with breathing and I don’t know, eye opening, is the first thing we learn to do as humans. It’s the one means we have of survival when we are stupid babies whose biggest accomplishments revolve around producing solidly formed poos (it usually just looks like broccoli soup, but be warned, it doesn’t taste like it). So you’d think that when it comes to putting a liquid down your throat, you should have the whole operation down to a fine science come adulthood. Continue Reading→
For some reason, it’s 2015 and we still use paper money and metal coins for currency as though we live in the Tang Dynasty. This antiquated form of paying for things is not the worst thing ever, seeing as my piece of shit Samsung can hardly take a pic half the time I need it to, so could never be dependable enough to serve as my wallet. And I rather not have a chip inserted into my wrist like I’m some purebred Yorkie.
So paper money it is, but this relic of a monetary system brings with it many shortcomings: the germ ridden coins and notes that probably killed your great-uncle last winter; a pocket full of metal heavy enough to require a belt, but still only providing enough funds to buy a coffee and maybe a muffin; and worst of all, shitty people that think ATMs are their personal banker. Continue Reading→