Hard Lessons & Broken Records

I began writing this with a heavy heart since recent events have left me quite speechless — which I will be the first to admit that it doesn't happen often. It is one thing to bully someone to the point where they take their own life; it is an entirely new level of hell that one is striving towards when you continue to mock and disparage that person after they have died. What is the motherfucking point of spitting gas on a fire that has been extinguished? It's disgusting and sociopathic, if you ask me.

You want to know the one time I would slap my own teen? If I found out that he was contributing to that fucking mess, that's when. Just in knowing that we, as a generation, have raised these kids to hold such little value and honor in other people's lives makes me physically nauseous. And what does that mean for our future as a society . . .

I clearly remember incidents when I was in middle school where the "mob mentality" would take over and 4, 5, 6 people would bully and laugh at a single person until they cried or ran away. Can is still be called a "mob" when everyone is isolated in the comfort of their own middle class rooms, sitting nicely behind a computer? Fucking cowards.

I know there has been a plea for all these mindless douchebags to stop posting negative comments about the deceased girl and to "think what they are doing." But that's just it — they do not think. They believe it's all fucking hilarious and they won't see the err of their ways for likely another 5 years to even a decade. And for the REALLY thick ones, it won't sink in until they, themselves, become parents (which is ironic considering those are the people that give me a strong "pro" argument for involuntary sterilization).

And like a broken record, I am once again expressing that this is one of the key reasons I had to resign from teaching high school. SO MANY TIMES I just wanted to kick them hard in their asses and say, "You're a fucking asshole. Don't be an asshole!" These thoughts mostly came about while I was sweeping ripped out hair that covered the floor outside my classroom from the latest fight which usually involved two (or more) 12 year old girls trying to kill each other over the affections of a 12 year old boy who's balls hadn't even dropped yet.

I realize that it's a different social climate than 20 years ago (when I was 14), but mean bullies have been around for thousands of years – it's in our human nature – not one of our more admirable traits, but there it is. Call it insecurity; call it ignorance; call it over-inflated entitlement; hell, you can even call it Darwinian, but it's always been there - it's just the medium that keeps changing and evolving, each ugly head being more hideous and cruel than the last.

These are 5 ways to defeat a bully, and all five (in one way or another) are ways I have personally done to overcome the suck ass years that we have all had to battle though:

1. Ignore them. Getting upset is what gives them a hard on. Don't give them that pleasure! They'll likely be pumping your gas in 10 years (or doing nothing but playing video games and reminiscing about how  cool they were in high school and living in the basement apartment of their parents' mansion well into their thirties), so who the fuck cares if they call you a nasty name? Let them have their moment - it might be one of the few they get in their sad, little lives.

2. Beat them at their own game. They post something about you? Post something about yourself that's even funnier. This also goes back to #1. If you cause a stink about it, it will snowball into something that will get out of control until you feel you can't breathe. They will feed on that like starving vultures.

3. Punch them in their fucking face. OK, so this is probably frowned upon the most, but I gotta say, it worked for me . . . twice. Same dude; he wasn't so bright. And he grew up to be a Minor League hockey drop out and date rapist, so really, I don't regret assaulting him for a single moment.

4. Leave. Strategically, it's not the easiest solution, but if you're simply just fed up with their douchebaggery, change schools. It's best to not make a public event about it or else it will just follow you to your next school. And obviously, having a car helps. The further you can go, the better, because assholes have spies. I moved schools twice, although it wasn't from a specific bully per se, but there were a lot of asshats that just really annoyed me.

5. Become a fabulous success. I'm still working on this one, ahem, but success as revenge is (I think) just about the best incentive/motivation to do good things in your life. Take something negative and let it be the driving force to do something positive! Rise above their stupid, juvenile bullshit and take solace in knowing that after you graduate, you will be stronger because of it. You have the choice to close that door behind you and never look back. Killing yourself accomplishes nothing. Start over with a new phase of your life and have some goddamn fun. Blog about it, for fuck's sake!

Whatever we need to do to help process the fact that we lived through the bullshit and came out the other end . . . a little dirty but still alive - kind of like when Andy escaped through the raw sewage and into the fresh water in Shawshank Redemption.

Yup, that's high school.

The Whitney Season 1 DVD is available now folks and people who were mean to me in high school.
— Whitney Cummings (@WhitneyCummings) October 9, 2012

Yes, Whitney, exactly this.

I think a show on NBC prime time is just about thee very best way to tell your bullies that you are absolutely awesome. Everyone else can suck it!

And to all the victims and their families that have had to experience a tragic ending, my heart truly aches for you because it should never have to end like that.

The tale of Dr. Alle Gory

There once was a respected doctor in the little village that was nestled beautifully between an emerald green lake and a mountain range that resembled enormous chocolate chunks which had been gently sprinkled with icing sugar.

The village thrived as every citizen offered something unique to the town, and the doctor's job was to take care of everyone... until one day, a faceless and evil entity crept into the village. This villain whispered ideas into the villagers ears, telling them that they didn't need the good doctor anymore. There was this thing called "the internet" that could surely show them how to do everything that the doctor could do - and this way, they would be saving so much money and time, just by taking care of their maladies themselves.

What a catastrophically devious plan.

The faceless villain could be heard throughout the land as he joyfully chuckled with his deep and sinister voice. It sent chills down the doctor's spine and she cringed. The creature swiftly left the village and moved on to the next, as if he knew exactly what was about to occur.

Soon after, Dr. Gory's patient list became sparser and sparser as they dropped their appointments one-by-one, like a wilting daisy losing its petals. Around the same time, she noticed that some villagers started to look, well, off, for lack of a better word. They would limp a little, but then smile at the doctor, likely to create the illusion that everything was alright.

They became absolutely convinced they didn't need the doctor when convenient wysiwyg techniques were accessible to them. And yet more and more of the ill advised citizens began to look injured, or sick. Some looked like they had strange rashes and other ugly deformities on their bodies. One man even tried to remove a growth from his leg by himself! Dr. Gory ran over to this horrific sight and offered to help, but he winced and protested, "No, no, no. It's fine. I played around with the saaaaame tools that you have and for the most part, I think I've figured it out."

Alle stormed away, pulling at her hair and gnashing her teeth in frustration.

The citizens became sicker and more grotesque to the point where the disheartened doctor couldn't even look out her window without seeing carnage. A fatally false sense of "knowledge" had been given to these people with those seductive tools and things called "free apps" and "filters". And the saddest part was that they either didn't notice how awful they looked or they were just in severe denial and refused advice from the one and only person that was truly qualified to help them.

The doctor wept under her face mask as the village collapsed before her very eyes. There was nothing left of her once beautiful village. All that remained was an ugly ghost town filled with corpses and old flyers rustling in the wind like tumbleweed. As one flyer slapped against her ankle, she leaned over to pick it up. It read:

Seeing this horrific mockery of everything she had learned and worked towards for the past ten years must have been the breaking point for this poor, broken doctor. Alle slowly looked up to the sky and let one single tear drop escape her eye as she ripped up the flyer. She let it drop to the ground and with resolution in her mind and conviction in her steps, she got in her car and began to drive it full speed towards the calm lake. There was a great CUR-SPLASH as her vehicle pounded into the water. Giant air bubbles violently screamed to the surface as the car quickly sank to the bottom, along with the doctor inside...

But of course, I wouldn't have to worry about such nonsense because since I'm just a graphic designer and not a doctor, no one would ever bother to undermine my profession and think that they could do my job.

THAT WOULD JUST BE
UTTERLY. FUCKING. PREPOSTEROUS.

And I shall be a champion.

Before I begin, I should perhaps note some kind of disclaimer so I don't get hell's fury rained down upon me.
Texting while driving is bad; don't do it.

OK, now that THAT is over...

I think they're right to make texting while driving illegal because most people can't do it properly. I mean, come on, I remember when car phones first came out (actual portable ones, not the ones from the 80s) and people couldn't even talk and drive - AND THAT IS WHEN THEY STILL HAD BOTH EYES ON THE ROAD. I often wondered if those people had trouble eating and breathing at the same time. Life's tough for many, I know.

Just like only certain people who are really good at driving fast are allowed to do so on a race course as a competitive sport, I think there should be a "distracted drivers" circuit... and of course, I would be the Mario An-fucking-dretti of said circuit, just with nicer boobs and my penis is detachable.

Here is my proposed course and the particular challenges, of which all of them I would ROCK. Hercules can take his 12 labors and push them out his coccyx. Here's where it's at...

1. Off to a good start and then WHOA! I see you, first corner. You're of no consequence to me.

2. Motherfucker pulled out from a hidden driveway. Yeah, I saw that right in between my texts of "yr so funny" and "c u soon".

3. LEFT TURN. Switched the phone to my right hand as I crank that wheel and text like an ambidextrous rockstar.

4. School bus stopped to pick up kids. How could I NOT see that giant yellow bus. Fucking amateurs.

5. I laugh in the face of a roundabout. See? I just texted: "LOL" while going around it.

6. Stop light? Well, we're on a course, so I'm just going to go ahead and ignore that one, mmmk?

7. Cyclists! Your attempt at thinking you're equal to a motorized vehicle is amusing. If you had your mobile on, I would text, "Go fuck yrslf in the bicycle lane" as I drive past you at twice the speed.

And yet, through my anger, I maintain focus and no less than two bars on my 3G network.

8. Thirty year old skateboarder?! OK, so I just took him out, but that was on purpose. Deduct points, if you must. I shall come back after the race and wrap an Element t-shirt around the poll with a wreath, and simply write, "Sk8r 4eva".

9. Oh, what's this? A rail crossing? I'll speed up and fly over that shit with my gigantic beast of metal and car seats. 

10. Wow, that's a tight one! (That's what he said). And yet, although violently laughing at my own joke, I handle that corner with ease as I text to a friend, "Yr gonna love this 1. Ha!"

And after much wailing and gnashing of teeth, I'll win the race - and they will pour breast milk all over me as I hoist the trophy over my head, (but it would be the pump n' dump breast milk crap from a woman that did a shit load of vodka & Kahlua shots the night before, so what's being poured all over my body is essentially a White Russian).

Like I would take viable breast milk intended for an actual baby. Pisshhha. I'm not a monster.

But still...the moral of this story? IS THAT I WIN.