politicians, politics, social media, true crime, Trump

“I will never be your ass monkey…”

About twenty years ago, my husband, Bill, introduced me to the genius of Joe Cartoon, when he forwarded a hilarious video his mom had sent him. She had forwarded to him “3 Drunk Flies”, which depicted three flies getting wasted on “Lite Beer” and wreaking all sorts of havoc.

Oh, my freakin’ head…

Later, Bill’s mom sent the equally hilarious classic video titled “Joe Fish”, which starred a big talking gerbil who was basically torn apart by piranhas.

This one was especially satisfying, since on the original, you could interact with the gerbil. I miss flash animation.

Then there was the hysterical Gerbil in a Bar… I know, this is pretty sick stuff, and sort of violent, but if you realize these are just cartoons, it’s a little easier to take.

The asshole gerbil is back for more encounters with assholes…

Why am I writing about Joe Cartoon today? I was actually looking for a specific video called “Gerbil Mantras”. I did find the first minute of that cartoon, but not the whole thing. In the original version of “Gerbil Mantras”, you could push buttons to hear the gerbil repeat mantras about dealing with life. My favorite of his mantras was “I will never be your ass monkey.”

I don’t know why I can’t seem to find the whole video. The first minute of it provides an okay build up, I guess, but the funniest part was hearing the gerbil say, “Blow it out your asshole.” And, of course, my favorite mantra, “I will never be your ass monkey.” Cuz I won’t, you know. 😉 For some reason, though, that version of the video doesn’t seem to exist anywhere anymore.

I hadn’t thought of Joe Cartoon in ages, until yesterday afternoon. Remember in yesterday’s post, I wrote about the $1.89 gas guy? I mentioned in that post that I dared to leave a comment that I was glad to have the “pussy grabber” out of office. I added that it puzzled me that so-called Christians would champion someone who is obviously a sexual predator. Maybe it shouldn’t puzzle me, though. There are plenty of male “religious” people who are perverts. Just off the top of my head… Warren Jeffs, Josh Duggar, Jack Schaap, Ernest Angley, Joseph Smith, and Ted Haggard… all of the aforementioned “Christian” men have been involved in highly publicized sex scandals that led to public disgrace.

But one doesn’t have to be religious to be pervy. I think it’s something that people who are drunk on power do. That’s why guys like Bill Cosby, Bill Clinton, Harvey Weinstein, R. Kelly, Jeffrey Epstein, Prince Andrew, and yes, our “esteemed” 45th president, Donald Trump, have all been linked to sex scandals. Some of the stories associated with the scandals are pretty heartbreaking and horrifying. These men don’t seem to understand how truly gross this behavior is, and how it indicates a lack of respect or regard for other people. I don’t believe that good leaders are predators, and for that reason, I don’t knowingly vote for sexual predators. I think the best leaders care about the people they serve and– make no mistake– being a leader should ultimately be about service, not power.

Anyway, after a few hours, one of my friend’s male Facebook friends woke up and took me to task for my statement about Trump, whom I’d referred to as “the pussy grabber”. He asked me something along the lines of if I was totally happy with the way things are going with the current administration.

My response was, “Nobody’s perfect, but I much prefer Biden to Trump.” Seems pretty clear to me. No, it’s not perfect. It never is. But I prefer Biden to Trump for so many reasons. The main reason I prefer him is because he seems to care about people other than himself. Even if he only cared about his wife, Dr. Jill Biden, that would still put him ahead of Trump. I am convinced that deep down, Donald Trump doesn’t give a flying shit about anyone other than himself. If he was pushed, I think he would even happily sell out his beloved daughter, Ivanka, who has wisely distanced herself from some of her father’s more outlandish claims regarding election fraud.

My answer didn’t satisfy my friend’s friend, who clearly wanted to bait me into an argument with him. I am wise to these types of people, who can’t just let someone express an opinion without trying to correct it.

When I made my comment to my old high school friend, I addressed only him. I didn’t directly call out anyone else. I know that he and I feel similarly about Donald Trump. Obviously, some of his friends felt called out, when I brought up that I think it’s crazy that so-called Christians are championing Trump. But I don’t know why they’re surprised by my opinion. Trump is not Christlike at all!

Friend’s friend decided to probe some more and wrote, “You didn’t answer my question.”

No guy, actually, I did answer. It’s pretty clear how I feel. And that’s all you’re gonna get. I left him one more response, which was “I don’t care. This is the answer I’m giving you. Take it, or leave it.”

Naturally, he tagged me again in a response that I didn’t bother to read. I figured it was another invitation to argue with him, which I’ve made it clear that I’m not interested in doing. It’s a waste of time, and raises my blood pressure. I’m no one’s ass monkey, right?

I went to bed last night, then woke up to another tag, this time from the original “$1.89 gas guy”, whom I’m sure also felt called out by my indictment of so-called Christians championing a greedy, abusive, predatory, fucking creep like Donald Trump. I didn’t read that one, either, because I knew I would feel like I had to respond. It’s pointless to respond to these folks, because all it does is entrench them further, and they are never convinced, even when evidence or proven facts are provided to them. Moreover, I don’t owe them a justification of why I feel the way I do.

Urban Dictionary’s definition of the term, ass monkey, is not what I have always understood it to be. According to Urban Dictionary, an “ass monkey” is a total idiot or a man who appears to be gay. But I like to think of Joe Cartoon’s gerbil when I think of that particular term. The gerbil may be used in obscene, non politically correct ways, but he clearly doesn’t like being used in that way. He doesn’t want to be anyone’s chump. I think getting mired in a political disagreement with strangers on someone else’s page, especially when I have no desire to engage, is the height of being an ass monkey… someone’s “fool”, used for their own pleasure, if you will. I’m not doing it. I’ve got better things to do with my time… like frosting my own pubic hair. Which, of course, I’d never actually do, but would rather do than argue with recalcitrant Trump supporters.

Times are tough for a lot of people right now. Money is very important, and I understand that many people have a lot less of it lately. But I don’t think money is the MOST important thing, when it comes to world leaders. There’s a high price to be paid for an extra $20 a week in your paycheck, even as I realize, for some people, that extra $20 is significant. I still think we should be demanding leaders who are worth following.

Someone who can’t control his sexual impulses around women is not trustworthy. Donald Trump has proven that he’s a man who won’t hear “no”, whether it’s from a woman he wants to molest, or a country who said “no, thank you” to another four years of his “leadership”. And rather than understand that he’s serving at the pleasure of free people, he wants to lie, cheat, force, and steal to stay on top. That’s NOT good leadership. So no, I would never vote for Trump, even if he ran as a Democrat. I didn’t vote for Bill Clinton, either… nor did I vote for his wife, Hillary, although I think both of the Clintons were more competent and compassionate than Trump will ever be.

“They let you do it.” What’s really sad is that people are claiming that’s “consent”. It’s not consent. A lot of people are in shock when someone does this… especially when it’s a so-called “star”.

Even if the above hot mic talk about “pussy grabbing” was just “locker room talk”, it’s an ongoing theme with Trump. He has no self-control or restraint, and that makes him dangerous. Moreover, I think we should have much higher standards when it comes to presidents and their behavior. It’s not acceptable, to most Americans, for married people to have affairs. In the US military, it’s actually a violation of the Uniform Code of Military Justice for a service member to commit adultery. That means someone in the military who has an affair can be punished under the UCMJ. As POTUS, Trump was commander in chief of the military, and yet he openly admits to having zipper problems. Why should people in the military be held to higher conduct standards than the president is?

A disturbing passage from a Vanity Fair magazine article about Trump’s vile behavior and lack of restraint.
Another snippet from The New Yorker about how Trump treated his first wife, Ivana, when he was in pain due to a “scalp reduction” procedure he’d had done by a doctor Ivana had recommended.
Yet another anecdote about Trump’s disgusting behavior toward females. This time, it was a fourteen year old girl on the receiving end.
Because she was threatened…
I defy any decent person, Christian or not, to listen to this interview and not be horrified. I find her story very credible.

Unfortunately, a lot of people have no problem with Trump’s troubling attitude regarding women. They think it’s funny that he feels entitled to “grab ’em by the pussy”, because “he’s a star”. I wonder if they’d feel the same way if it was their wife, mother, daughter, or sister Trump was talking about fingering, or forcing himself upon. Hell, he’s been trying very hard to force himself upon the American people, hasn’t he? There are just so many stories about this… and Trump himself has admitted to his attraction to “beautiful women” and his inability to control himself.

It doesn’t occur to Trump that he’s human like everyone else is, and not everyone would be flattered by his decision to grope them, as if he’s some kind of god with more rights and less responsibilities than others have. Trump obviously thinks women should be honored for him to look at them as sex objects for his own gratification. It troubles me that that so many people in the United States don’t realize that he’s not just looking at women in this way, although that would be awful enough. He’s looking at EVERYBODY as if they are objects for promoting his agenda, and his agenda is not good for the United States, or the world.

That’s MY opinion, and that’s what drives my vote. I am not obligated to defend my opinions to the “$1.89 gas guy”, especially when I know my opinions are based on sound reasons with which he will never agree. But even if they weren’t, I don’t have to engage in an argument with some random guy on Facebook. Like I said… I’m not your ass monkey. And if you don’t see why Trump’s pervy proclivities are a big problem, nothing I say or write is going to make it clearer for you. So let’s not waste each other’s time, okay?

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language, lessons learned, silliness

Repost: Is this inappropriate?

Here’s a post I wrote in November 2018. It’s mostly “as/is”.

Negative comments are interesting.  A lot of times, they inspire me in ways you wouldn’t expect.  I have kind of a strange mind sometimes.  It goes off into tangents, some of which turn out to be totally goofy.  Yesterday, Bill and I were directed into goofy territory when I looked up the meaning of the expression “bite me”.   A couple of days ago, I wrote a post entitled “Hate my blog?  Bite me.”  My inspiration for that post came, in part, from some drama that has erupted on my blog recently.  It’s not just “Wondering Why’s” negative comment about how I’m so bitter and post so much “inappropriate” stuff.  It’s also because of other people who feel the need to try to “police” what I write in my blog.

“The Overeducated Housewife” is my first and probably most read blog simply due to the fact that it’s eight years old (ETA: in 2021, it’s 11 years old).  But around these parts, it’s my travel blog that gets more notice (no longer true).  Because of the community I live in and the fact that military folks can be excruciatingly uptight about some things, I try to keep the travel blog somewhat clean.  Every now and then, a little profanity slips in, and I make no secret about how much Bill and I enjoy booze tourism.  We aren’t necessarily a “wholesome” couple.  But I do try to keep the personal drama to a minimum on that blog.  It’s somewhat PG by my standards.

This blog, by contrast, gets a lot of weird shit posted on it.  Some of it is very personal, profane, and “inappropriate”.  Some of it’s kind of silly and funny.  I use a lot more swear words on this blog.  It’s “rated R”.

Then I have the music blog, which I update maybe once or twice a month.  I would probably delete it altogether, but for some reason, people are obsessed with my post about Richard Carpenter’s daughter, Mindi.  To date, my post about Mindi Carpenter has garnered well over 100,000 hits.  It’s my most popular post of all time.  I really don’t know why, but as long as it gets hits, I figure I might as well get some ad revenue. (still thinking of deleting it because I never update it much anymore, but I want to get paid, first)…

Anyway… back to the subject at hand.  I was writing about tangents, and it’s time I came back from the latest one.  A couple of days ago, I wrote my post about people who hate blogs and bloggers.  I used the expression, “Bite me.”  I used that expression because it’s a somewhat sanitized version of saying “fuck off”.  In truth, I am much more likely to say “fuck off” than “bite me”.  In fact, I can’t think of any time recently that I invited someone to “bite me”.  It’s just not a phrase I use very often.  “Fuck off”, on the other hand, is a favorite expression of mine.  It’s very ladylike, you see. 

Sometimes I get curious about language.  I find the origin of words and expressions fascinating.  I love to read Urban Dictionary, where people post definitions for common slang words and idioms in the English language.  I looked up “bite me.” and, sure enough, Urban Dictionary had a definition.  But then I stumbled across another site called English Language & Usage.  Six people also included information about the origin of the expression “bite me”.  The first answer posted was rather pedestrian, but the second one was fascinating.  Have a look…

This made me laugh hysterically for a few minutes.  I was especially amused by a subsequent comment left by someone who said it was equivalent to saying “Eff you”, then apologizing that he could not bring himself to “say” it.

While you can use the phrase when you mean “deal with it”, I am of the opinion that it most emphatically doesn’t mean “deal with it”, but instead is closer to when you don’t like what the other person has said or done, and express your contempt. It’s really not different than “eff you” (sorry, I can’t bring myself to say it). – ErikENov 27 ’12 at 9:04

Some people really cringe at the idea of using vulgarity and being “inappropriate”…  I think they must live very constrained lives, but if it makes ’em happy, what’s it to me?

The person who provided the above screenshot information immediately charmed me for being so apologetic and polite about the original raunch factor of “bite me”.  I had no idea.  There are several more answers posted about the origin of “bite me”, most of which caused me to giggle and reminded me of the old show, Crank Yankers, which used to be aired on Comedy Central a lot.  Crank Yankers consisted of comedians using puppets to act out crank calls they made to people.  There was a character on that show named Niles Standish, who was “inappropriate” on the phone as they pranked some unsuspecting guy who was looking for some phone sex.

Is this inappropriate?
Some inappropriate “shit” here.

I don’t often say “bite me” to people, because to me, it’s about as non-sensical as calling someone a douche.  I have ranted about my aversion to the word “douche” used as an insult on several occasions, so I’m not going to rehash it.  I’ll just say that, to me, calling someone a “douche” doesn’t make sense, nor does it make sense to say “bite me”, although I do know the conventional meaning of both expressions.  I just used “bite me” a couple of days ago because it seemed less profane, and I’d rather not be profane in my blog post titles, if I can help it.  But then, if you think about it, calling someone a “douche” or inviting them to bite you is actually very offensive if you consider what those expressions really mean.  It’s just that they’re used so often that people are now kind of unfazed by them.  They’ve become almost sanitized… and even somewhat “appropriate”.  You might even hear someone say it in church.

Because I enjoy oversharing, as regular readers of this blog certainly know, I shared on Facebook that Bill and I were having a stimulating discussion about vulgar English idioms.  I wasn’t surprised when a number of my friends who know me well had a good laugh at that.  Bill and I often discuss things that would never cross anyone else’s minds.  That’s why we’re perfect for each other.  We ended the evening by watching early episodes of America’s Next Top Model, where there was certainly a lot of “inappropriate” behavior.  I think many people secretly love it when others are “inappropriate”.  It’s the sticks in the mud who feel that a high level of decorum must be maintained by all means that ruin it for everyone else.

I’m sure plenty of people read some of my posts and wonder “WTF is wrong with that woman?”  They wouldn’t be the first to wonder that.  My own mother used to loudly exclaim, “Where did you come from?!” whenever I said or did anything she found inappropriate, obnoxious, or weird.  I always wanted to tell her that I came from an unfortunate night she spent fucking my father… and then I slid out of her womb, between her legs, all purplish and wet, kicking and screaming into the hellhole of life.  But, because I do have a sense of decorum and did not want to be knocked into the next month, I did not tell her where I literally came from.  The fact is, I came from their come…  She could have spared us all a lot of grief if she and my dad had just taken a cold shower and gone bowling or something.  Ah well… I will keep thinking and writing about goofy, inappropriate shit that upsets, shocks, annoys, and offends people.  Then, some blessed day, I won’t be able to write anymore and the world will be spared these weird, inappropriate postings from me. 

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dogs, funny stories, technology

Healthy habits spurred on by butt sniffers and smartwatches…

I have a couple of issues to address today. They aren’t really related, but I don’t feel like composing two posts. I hope you’ll bear with me, anyway.

Our dog, Noyzi, who came to us from Kosovo last fall, has really been turning into quite a charming beast. When we first got him, he was pretty terrified of most things. He was used to living outside with many other dogs, so he’d never encountered glass before. He bumped his head several times on the glass door before he learned that he couldn’t go through it. Now, he knows how to deal with the door and the mesh fly screen we put up earlier in the spring, although that scared him at first, too.

When Noyzi first joined us, he didn’t really know how to walk on a leash. I gave him a few lessons in the backyard before we took him out for his first walk around the neighborhood. He now walks on the leash like a champ and, in fact, even seems more secure when he’s on a leash than when he’s not. He’s become very civilized in that regard, willingly walking behind or beside me. He never pulls or barks, although sometimes if he’s excited or scared, he will freak out a little bit and backpedal. But those incidents are becoming fewer and further between.

Noyzi is a perfect gentleman when anyone rings the doorbell. Almost all of our other dogs, save for C.C. the beagle/husky mix, have barked like crazy when someone comes to the door. Now, Arran barks as usual, but Noyzi stays quiet. He doesn’t rush to the door, trying to get out or greet the stranger. In fact, he really doesn’t bark much at all, except for when the next door neighbor’s Labrador, Tommi, is outside. I have rarely heard him utter more than a few high pitched yips, which I feel pretty sure aren’t the extent of his full on barking capabilities.

I have yet to see Noyzi be food aggressive or aggressive, in general, at all. He patiently tolerates Arran’s figurative rolling pin waving antics. Arran bitches Noyzi out regularly, trying desperately to cling to top dog status, which he never really had when we had Zane. Arran could really only dominate Zane when Zane wasn’t feeling well. But Noyzi, who is several times Arran’s size, puts up with Arran’s bossiness like a champ. I have noticed a little eye rolling, now and again, and Noyzi will sometimes sneak upstairs even though Arran often bitches at him when he tries to invade. But, for the most part, Noyzi quietly and patiently respects his place in the hierarchy and doesn’t make waves.

I couldn’t have asked for a more naturally obedient and intelligent pet. Noyzi doesn’t counter surf, and his begging for food is minimal and endearing. Noyzi didn’t even need to be house trained, which was a hugely pleasant surprise! It was like he was born to be an indoor dog, despite his size. He even enjoys being bathed!

The one thing Noyzi does do, however, is something that is taking a little bit to get used to. You see, Noyzi is the tallest dog we’ve ever had. He’s almost as tall as my hip. That puts his head at just the right place for sticking his nose right in my ass. He doesn’t do this every day… it’s mainly when he’s wanting to take a walk or be fed. Noyzi, like most of the dogs we’ve ever had, now knows how to tell time, more or less. He knows when he usually gets fed or walked.

Noyzi enjoys part of our longer walking route, thanks to the other monitor in my life… Our local Rewe does its part to encourage the bees to do their jobs.

Usually, Arran will come and tell me when it’s time for either of those activities, if I haven’t already gotten started. But now, I’ve noticed that when I go and get dressed for a walk, Noyzi will come upstairs and wait. Then Arran will lead the way downstairs, stopping and pausing on the way to make sure I’m following. Noyzi will station himself behind me and stick his nose where the sun don’t shine. He does it to Bill, too, though not as often as he does it to me. Sometimes, he also gooses me in the ass when I’m putting on my shoes. It’s like he sees my butt as a target… a funny smelling target… and sticks his nose there to light a fire under my ass, so to speak. It’s kind of like a G rated canine version of the “Shocker”. If you don’t know what the Shocker is, Urban Dictionary is your friend.

I probably shouldn’t allow or encourage this behavior, but honestly, I find it kind of funny. Like I said, in the past, we’ve always had medium sized beagle mixes who have been too short to engage in such antics. This is the first time we’ve had a dog large enough to be a legitimate “ball sniffer” or in Noyzi’s case, “butt sniffer”. George Carlin had a hilarious comedy routine about such dogs… Behold:

Noyzi doesn’t do circumcisions… yet.

I guess as long as Noyzi doesn’t push me as I walk downstairs, I’m alright with being spurred on to success. I did manage to get a cute animation from my new Apple Watch the last couple of days. I’m not sure I’ve dished much about my latest toy, and I originally didn’t realize Noyzi and Arran had anything in common with the watch. But now that I think about it, it occurs to me that the watch and the dogs do have something in common. Both the dogs and the watch are spurring me on to take better care of myself. I don’t think either of the dogs do it for my sake. They spur me on for their sakes. But my taking the dogs for a walk is a mutually beneficial and healthy activity for all of us.

So anyway, a couple of weeks ago, when I was sitting here at home alone, I decided to order an Apple Watch. I don’t really even need a regular watch, let alone a “smart” one. I don’t have anywhere to be, so I don’t need to know what time it is. Besides, I usually have my phone or iPad with me, or I’m sitting at the computer. Still, I’d been reading about all the nifty stuff on the Apple Watch and decided to order one as a TDY consolation prize/early birthday present. Since we haven’t been traveling, I had the money mostly saved.

The new Apple Watch does indeed have a lot of nannyism health gimmicks that remind users to take care of themselves. For instance, this watch is capable of checking my blood oxygen levels. It prompts me to take a moment to breathe deeply and will pause the exercise if I’m not focused, still, and breathing properly, and encourages me to try again. It reminds me when to go to bed and get up, not that I need any help with that, being married to a man whose brain goes down with the sun (seriously, Bill is practically comatose by 9:00pm, and he’s always up by 5:00am… consequently, so am I). Today, I got a chastising message when I neglected to wash my hands for a full twenty seconds. The watch wanted to know why I hadn’t scrubbed for the right amount of time– was it just a rinse?

Your Grace! Isn’t it nice to be addressed respectfully? I’ll probably subscribe to Apple Fitness+ once my three months are up.

When I take walks and forget to tell the watch I’m “working out”, it will buzz my wrist and ask me if I want it to record my walk. It’s already been recording, mind you. If I answer affirmatively, it will show the time of the walk already in progress, so I don’t miss those precious early minutes before I asked the watch to count the walk as exercise. The new watch comes with three free months of Apple Fitness+. There are three wellness ring goals that it encourages me to meet every day: exercise, standing, and moving (which seems kind of strange, since I mostly stand and move when I exercise). As I get closer to meeting the goals, each ring– light blue for standing, maroon for moving, and light green for exercise– get closer to closing in perfection. I get a cute animation as I meet each goal and a really exciting animation when I reach all three. And if the day is closing and I haven’t moved, stood, or exercised enough, the watch will send me an encouraging message, reminding me to get up off my ass.

Aww… thanks for caring, Apple Watch. Maybe it’s time I named you.

I also get a warning if my heart rate is dangerously high, or the noise in an area is too loud and could damage my hearing. I got a message yesterday asking me if my period has started yet, since it’s overdue… but I am getting old and will soon turn 49, so I expect that my once Swiss watch regular cycles will go horribly awry soon. I read yesterday that the next incarnation of the Apple Watch will even be capable of checking blood sugar.

Of course, I could disable some of these features. I think if I had real life things to attend to, like a job or a child, the constant reminders for every little thing might get very annoying in a hurry. It’s bad enough that the watch reminds me when it’s time for me to play Words With Friends or sends me notices when some strange creep on Facebook wants to “connect” with me. I probably will start to shut down some of the “services” as I get to know the watch better. I probably will keep the exercise reminders, though, because it’s encouraging to keep track of how much I move… and it’s good to be reminded to move.

I’m sure Arran and Noyzi also appreciate that the Apple Watch gives me a reason to take them for a slightly longer route, since the weather is better. I wish I’d had this watch when we lived in Jettingen, where our walks were twice as long, because we were next to a huge forest. I would have definitely had no problem meeting and exceeding the exercise goals there.

Anyway… I appreciate the help and concern from my dogs and Apple Watch for helping me maintain my physical health, especially since I haven’t seen a doctor in about ten years. But I might need one if Noyzi pushes too hard as he herds me toward the door for his daily walk or victuals. I might fall down and bust my ass or break my face. At that point, since this watch is also capable of sending and receiving phone calls (once I connect it to my cellphone plan and pay the fees), it might automatically call 112 for me (Germany’s equivalent to 911 for an ambulance).

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complaints

Thanks tips…

I remember when I was studying for my MSW, I had a professor who was a real stickler about people who state the obvious. He taught the Capstone course, which was basically about tying together all of the skills and methods we learned during our program to solve problems. The class required writing a lot of papers rather than passing tests. Not surprisingly, I excelled, because I like writing more than taking tests. I got an A in the class, while a few of my friends struggled to pass it. I remember the professor was very harsh about grading the papers and would mercilessly take off points for those who “stated the obvious”.

Years later, I’m sitting here thinking about that class I took seventeen years ago and how this professor, whom I recall was not popular with my colleagues, would talk about how we should avoid stating the obvious. Why was it such a big deal to him? Probably because time is a precious commodity and stating the obvious is a waste of time. There’s no need to say or write something as a point if people already know and understand it to be a given. This professor had been both a licensed professional counselor and a social worker– he had master’s degrees in both disciplines, as well as a Ph.D. in social work. He was also an Army veteran. I can imagine that he was very busy. Reading master’s level papers full of poorly written drivel, particularly when the analyses contained mostly obvious points that everybody already knows, was probably extremely irritating for him. And so, to teach his students what not to do, he graded very harshly and took off massive points for “stating the obvious”. Hopefully, a lot of his students quickly learned a valuable lesson.

By the way, although my colleagues didn’t like Dr. W., I enjoyed his class very much. I even liked the weekly papers. I found them challenging and even kind of fun. Basically, he would give us narratives of a client we might be working with and we had to come up with a plan for them. I seem to recall that we’d also trade our papers and have our colleagues read our plans and offer comments on whether or not the plans were viable.

This topic comes up this morning, which has gotten off to a somewhat rocky start. I had trouble sleeping last night, so I was up earlier than usual. I did my normal Tuesday morning chore of cleaning the bathrooms. Then I read some comments left for me on Facebook that stated the obvious.

It’s probably a good thing I didn’t ever work as a “ground zero” social worker with individual clients. I don’t have a lot of patience for some things. A few days ago, I posted a picture of a glass of non alcoholic beer I had at a sushi restaurant. A friend of mine, who knows of my love for beer, wrote, “Don’t they send people to prison for that sort of thing in Germany?”

I responded that this was the only kind of beer they had available at the restaurant. It was actually not bad at all. I could barely tell it wasn’t the usual leaded version of beer. I probably ought to drink more of it.

But then… days later, I got this comment from someone else who wrote: “Near-beer or table beer, with minimal alcohol, is widely available in Europe, mainly but not exclusively, for children.”

I don’t know why, but this comment irritated me. First of all, I’m not sure what it had to do with the subject at hand. We weren’t discussing the availability of non-alcoholic beer in Europe. The first comment came from a friend who follows my travels and knows I really enjoy beer and wine. He was making a joke about my choice to drink non-alcoholic beer. What the hell does the availability of “near beer” in Europe have to do with anything?

Secondly, the comment was posted days later, after the discussion had already died. I wondered what prompted the guy to chime in, especially since his comment didn’t seem to have much to do with anything except to inform us of something kind of obvious. I mean, I’ve been living in Europe for several years this time, and I lived here a few times before this latest stint. I know there’s near beer here– just like I know there’s a telephone. So, I guess, I’m just sitting here scratching my head.

I probably should have ignored the comment, but I chose not to. Instead, I wrote “Thanks for the tip.” Remember, I have kind of a low threshold for annoyance.

That led me to wonder if someone had posted “Thanks for the tip” on Urban Dictionary. I find that a lot of times, when I’m being snarky or sarcastic and I leave a comment to that effect, someone has already posted a hilarious definition of my comment in Urban Dictionary. Surprisingly enough, this time no one posted “Thanks for the tip.” However, someone did post “Thanks tips”. I hadn’t heard of it before this morning, but now I’m informed, and I’m sharing my new knowledge with all of you.

Maybe what happened wasn’t really someone stating the obvious, per se. Maybe it was more akin to “chiming”. I wrote a post about that phenomenon on my old blog. It’s basically when someone butts into a conversation on social media, particularly when they haven’t read other comments. The end result is that their comment is non-sensical, has already been stated (and usually more than once), or is completely irrelevant.

Although social media is different than talking to someone face to face, I tend to see unrelated comments in a Facebook thread the way I might see someone butting into a private conversation. For instance, say you’re having a discussion with a friend. You’re in public, but the chat is just between you and the other person. Suddenly, another person comes up and offers an opinion or a comment that has little to do with your conversation. He or she kind of smiles at you and acts as if you should appreciate their input, even if it’s irrelevant, inappropriate, and/or pointless and stupid.

I will admit, I probably notice these things a lot more than other people do. And I will admit that most of it probably shouldn’t faze me as much as it does. I probably should call myself the “oversensitive” housewife, because I am sensitive about a lot of things that probably shouldn’t annoy me as much as they do. But everybody has their quirks. I have a couple of friends who suffer from misophonia, which is a condition that causes people to become annoyed or even enraged by certain sounds. A lot of people with misophonia can’t stand the sound of people eating, or babies crying. Actually, now that I think about it, I probably have a touch of that myself. I can’t deal with really off key singing, although I don’t get annoyed when people chew loudly. People who don’t have that condition might not be able to understand it or empathize with people who have it because it’s beyond their comprehension. However, just because you don’t have it, doesn’t mean it’s not a real thing.

Anyway… just thought I’d share this today. If anyone’s wondering, yes, I do feel sort of bad when I get irritated about these things and write about them. I know from experience that sometimes people’s feelings are hurt when I vent like this. If it helps anyone to know this, I’m sure I’d be upset if I read anyone’s thoughts about the many things I do that are irritating. But, because I know I’d be upset, I make a point of not searching out other people’s thoughts about me. They’re none of my business, and reading them is not likely to lead to anything good. On the other hand, I’m sure people can relate to today’s gripe. At the very least, they’re the kind of people who would post snarky definitions on Urban Dictionary.

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