Jackie Kochava

Pretty awesome hip-hop artists/Albion-alum. Check him out: Jackie Kochava

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The Hangover: That's So Unnecessary.

I am addressing a topic that I have often pondered, specifically at 6:30am on Sunday mornings when I find myself stumbling around my kitchen in search of hydration. 

"Who left me out in a desert to die last night?"I ask the Saturday Night Gods, "And why did they leave me here with refried beans in my hair?"

I suddenly realize that thirst and edibles in my hair are not my only ailments. There is a subtle pounding in my chest, head, and stomach that intensifies with each coherent thought or sentence I try to form. 

I am dizzy and disoriented, "Holy crap, where did that come from? Where are my shoes? What is going on? Who are you? Wait.. what?" 

I scan the room for things that don't belong and am always mystified by the people, places, and things that my drunk self subjects my sober self to. I have recently decided that the goal of my drunken self is to disorganize and baffle my sober self as much as humanly possible. I shout out (to noone in particular) asking where I placed my valuables. My roommate's response is always the same: "Have you checked the microwave?"

My feet hurt which although totally unrelated still proves to be a problem that I will ultimately blame on the alcohol. I shuffle back to my bed with a bucket of water and find the reminiscence of a half eaten burrito on my bedside table which only partly explains the beans in my hair. 

"I'm so glad I thought carbs after 3am were a splendid idea. Not."

It really is no surprise when I find shredded lecture under my pillow. It is always best practices to clutch onto your Pancheros with a death grip even as you drift into a dead sleep in the event someone else might stumble upon you and say, "HEY LOOK! A half-eaten smooshed burrito. Om nom nom nom! I think I shall take that away from her." Like I said, just standard practices.

As per my usual routine, I survey my belongings: cell phone, check. Credit card, check. ID, check. Something completely random that has no business being in my purse, check. If it wasn't for the melatonin, a natural sleeping supplement, I would be wide awake on verge of vomiting and dying for at least 8 hours. After I fall back to sleep, I am then dead to the world for the next 12 hours. 

This is an extreme example, but the sentiment retains its validity. Hangovers suck. I have long accepted that my body was not built to consume alcohol. And to all the naysayers that will respond to this with, "Well maybe you shouldn't drink so much..just saying." STFU.

"Well, it seems like you might have an alcohol problem." Yes, I do have an alcohol problem of sorts. My problem is that after consuming alcohol I feel a lot like Humbert Cumberdale after Salad Fingers puts him in the oven with a fish. And don't talk to me like you've never cut back your calories pre-weekend to compensate for all the liquid calories you will be consuming only to fall victim to 2am Pizza Pockets. Have you ever worn a mini-skirt? Yeah. Take your judgement elsewhere. I am too hung over to deal with you.

So, where, dear humanity, is the 0 calorie alcoholic beverage that allows one to skip the hangover experience? My cry has not been answered so I will now list off my random thoughts on why there is no excuse not introducing this godsend to the human species.

We went to the Moon.

I refuse to believe that humans traveled in a spacecraft to the Moon yet have failed to invent a legal concoction that will enhance reality without leaving us feeling like soot and poo. Aids vaccine? Screw it. I want to know where the hangover cure is, Mr. President. Where are you hooligans in the White House hiding it? There's no way that you can lead a country as effed as the United States without the consumption of alcohol- and yet, I never see you with a hangover, Mr. O. Suspicious? Totally. 

The only time I see hung over people is in Vitamin Water and 5 Hour Energy Ads.

Why, dearest alcohol industry, with your billions of dollars haven't you sent your alcohol scientists on a search for this mystical unicorn liquor? There doesn't seem like there would be any downside to this. The stuff would fly off shelves like crack in the allies of D town and I would literally give up my cell phone/first born to get my claws on it, so I really don't see how money would deter a company from attempting to make this. Shout-out to everyone who just read the sentence in which I equated my cell phone to my first born. #sorryimnotsorry

 Vodka looks like water.

Vodka is clear. Water is clear. Water has zero calories. Vodka has anywhere from 60 to 90 calories depending on flavor per shot. How does that make any sense? I don't want the real answer. I know the real answer. I simply would like to point out the opportunity that the alcohol industry is missing out on here. Diet Soda. Diet Alcohol- which is apparently cocaine, which I cannot be bothered with.

So, who wants to get started on drawing up plans for this?

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5 Things I'll be Doing When the World Ends

All good things must come to an end. Like pickles and stegosauruses and… porn. Because I am usually right (and never wrong), I would now like to officially predict that impending doom is upon us. This final hour is clearly evidenced by the mass economic depressions, wars, natural disasters, and lack of virgins (too many whores gets you kicked out of the Garden of Eden- wait, that’s what happened to Eve, right?) If the freaky weather, slutty seven year olds, and holyshiticannotaffordtupperware didn’t clue you in, you most certainly have been filled in on the rest of gloomy details by listening to the Top 40.

This is my favorite dinosaur.

Popstars left and right are urging us all to, “party like it’s the end of the world”, “dance until the world ends”, drink your “drink up like it’s your last”, and “dance, dance like it’s the last, last night of your life, life.” When was the last time Usher got something this important wrong? Never.  (My money-or lack there of- is on this Jay Sean character. Who I think is actually Jason Derulo, but I can’t be sure because they are the same person. That was me talking in a literal circle.)

I have included a picture of Jay Sean seemingly aloof and alone at his end of the world party.

So, with all this talk of the end pumping through my speakers in the form of catchy, electronic dance tunes (Okay, but really, who is Jay Sean?), you can imagine that I’ve had a lot of time to think about what it is I’d like to actually be doing when this shit all goes down. Unlike many who may fear and/or prepare for our enviable ruination, I am actually kind of excited. Here is my short list of things I may or may not be doing when we become dust bunnies and soot and particles:    

1.    Taco Bell with Dubstep and 100 Proof Vodka. 

 

Partly inspired by the genius marketing team at Taco Bell, this scenario first came to my mind after hearing that radio jingle about the infamous 4th meal which I routinely take part in somewhere between 2 and 4 am on random weekends. To me, the 4th meal signifies all that is the end of days; saturated fat, you're not sure if it is really meat, but who really cares because it is three in the morning and this illuminated bell of tacos is lighting your way to total satisfaction and potentially ingestion. Taco bell is shifty. It's not something you're supposed to admit you like in polite company. Kind of like, me telling you I'd be totally cool with an apocalypse.

So, in the event there was mass chaos and rampant anarchy spreading throughout the mother land, I can’t imagine any place I’d rather be than posted up in a Taco Bell. Drunk. Eating Bean burritos. With dubstep pulsating through the drive-thru speakers. Nothing says extinction like getting drunk and reading Taco Bell hot sauce packets until you cannot stand. If Britney had to re-film that Until the World Ends video, I could make an excellent case for why being in a sewer drain pales in comparison to a soft shell taco and #4. After ten shots. I’d preferably like to be accompanied by someone entertaining like the Geico gecko or my friend Ashley, but honestly, the more the merrier. You’re all invited.

2.    Protecting Harry Potter World

If you haven’t had the privilege of setting eyes upon this natural wonder, I recommend you do so ASAP (Who knows how much time we really have.)  So, although it would be awesome to running amok in the outrageously cool wizarding world, the reason I want to be here is so that I can protect it. The details are a bit fuzzy right now about how I actually plan to preserve this national treasure, but my hope would be that when aliens stumble upon us light years from now that Harry Potter World will be the only thing standing and they will assume we were bad ass wizards and that Potter himself ruled us all. I don’t even like Harry Potter that much. I just think it would be cool.

3.    In a Hot Air Balloon With Snacks 

So like, if there really is some really nasty destruction going on down on the ground level, I’d really like somewhere I can be free to snack without interruption or the threat of being clobbered by a building, tidal wave or, angry republican. My hot air balloon would need to be fully equipped with a bar and an assortment of salty snacks. I really am partial to the one in the picture above because hopefully if there is rampant murder or death down there, they will look up and be like, "Is that an elephant? No way!" and smile. I’d also need Twitter so I could take Twitpics. Hashtag #shit #wearesoscrewed.

4.    Facebooking

Well, this one is just a given. I think it would be entertaining to read 2500 of my closest friends’ feelings and thoughts about the end of days via their Facebook statuses. And then judge them for it. I might also stalk some photos of my ex’s new girlfriend. TBA. Sorry I’m not sorry.

5.    Not Sleeping

So my favorite things to do on this planet are Facebook, dance, and eat. The last is sleep. Because I've included all my other favorite things, I had to touch on why I've decided to leave this particular favorite thing out. Although I would normally be in favor of sleep, I would be severely devastated if I was dead asleep (no pun intended) when everything went down. It’s like waking up and realizing you missed an epic rager that happened in the next room over. And all the beer is gone. And someone stole your socks. Or something. Whatever happens, I must be awake. Somewhat alert. Not necessarily sober.

So, I guess, all that’s left to do is ask what you’ll be doing. So, what’s that? What will you be doing?

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The Post Break-Up Bitch: Which one are you?

Guys have the power to drive ladies bonkers. Despite our obvious superiority to the opposite gender (we have boobs), we are sometimes susceptible to their douchery. Primarily a result of their inherent idiocy, we ladies all go through periods of turmoil, distress, and utter tomfoolery on account of men. Which is the best way to deal? Even the wisest of bitches don't have the exact answer. 

Most of us have been through a bad break-up. Whether the idiot cheated on you, broke your heart, or simply likes boys (likereallygayliketoogaytofunction), everyone usually comes in contact with heartache some time in their life. Moreover, we all have besties who morph into crazy/depressed alter-versions of themselves as a result of guys and it can be a struggle to know when to mind your own business and when to stage a full fledged intervention.The backlash from a broken heart can manifest in several different forms and bitches can be relied on to switch from one type to another without warning.

Here are the 6 most common types of post break-up bias:

1. The Whiner

Would you like a bit of cheese with that incessant whine? Either you want pounds of it to fill the hole in your soul or you don't want any of it because the thought of food sickens you because omgyouresofatandhewillfindsomeoneskinny. This chick can be found posted up in bed eating hoards of fried food or refusing to eat all together (Food reminds her of him). If you can break down her door (which may be reinforced with all her furniture because you are a human and she can't see humans right now because her beloved man was indeed a human as well), you will find her in total disrepair. She will be disheveled, wearing pajamas at 5pm, and simultaneously watching the notebook and listening to Adele break-up songs.

She can be counted on to spontaneously burst into tears in the middle of a conversation about pretty much anything. Even the most mundane topics will become off limits. Did you see the penguin special on the discovery channel? No. Don't go there. Her and dickwad used to go to the Zoo. She will clutch onto items of sentimental value and potentially call him/text him over and over again to let him know how miserable she is and how much she misses him. If you force her to go out, she will most likely get drunk and spill the details of her failed relationship to any poor schmuck that will listen- if they can understand her through her fits of tears.

As a friend, it will be your job to coddle her for a time period proportionate to how long they were together before you are allowed to intervene, hide her cell phone, and burn the teddy that she drowns in tears every night.

2.The Crazy Bitch

I like to call this a case of the cray cray- a disease observed by post break-up bitches who have gone a little off the reservation- like, say, to China. Now, the poor girl isn't solely to blame for the utter nuttiness that will ensue post break-up. After all, his totally inappropriate deeds will act as the catalyst to the crazy so in some ways, this very bizarre, borderline mental behavior is understandable, if not forgivable.

This bitch will be found plotting her revenge every second of everyday. She is obsessed. Her revenge schemes may vary in severity from slashing his tires to setting his house on fire. Normally, bitches won't actually do anything this outlandish (unless they are actually crazy, then #dearlordrun). However, plots may involve showing up unexpectedly, threatening to keep the baby she is now magically pregnant with, or sending long threatening e-mails.

She refreshes his Facebook page over and over again. He is forced to block her because she insists on calling him to complain about how Suzy somebody placed a happy emoticon on his wall- HOW DARE HE ALLOW THAT TO TRANSPIRE SO SOON AFTER THEIR BREAK-UP?! Doesn't he know how this affects her emotional stability!? But alas, the Facebook break-up is a whole other story.

This bitch fantasies about her ex being squished like a bug. By a Ford F-150. Now, some boys do deserve a Louisville slugger to both headlights, but as a friend, it will be your duty to ensure: A) that you can convince her that it isn't worth her energy B) that karma will take care of it so there is no reason to actually purchase a weapon or if all else fails C) that she cannot be traced to baseball bat used to pummel his mailbox.

3. The Slutty Bitch

This bitch takes DTF to a whole new level. There really isn't any question in the matter that this girl is going to **** that dude she is all over at the bar (that is unless she likes your roommate better in which case you may end up half-clothed in your neighbors' living room or a jail cell). If this chick is going out, she will be bringing home a man. Her man-acquiring skills are a clumsily poetic mix of drunk and drunker. She doesn't care who they are and probably won't remember their names.

When she wakes up in the morning, she doesn't give two shits about being polite or if she will ever see them again. There is never a number exchange. She gathers her belongings and makes an A-line for the nearest exit (this may not be a door). If you were lucky enough to be brought back to her lair, she will wake you up at the crack of dawn and tell you she has yoga before promptly kicking you to the curb. As a friend it is your job to refrain from judging (afterall, who the **** really cares? Social norms are all made up anyway) and to make sure she is always equipped with and using protection (provide different shapes and sizes for surprises). When she starts doing it in public places, it might be time to have a talk about the implications of being on the sex offenders list.

4. The Man Eater  

Watch out boys, this one isn't just in it to break your heart- she also wants to eat your liver and leave you bleeding on the bathroom floor. Metaphorically, that is. This girl will appear recuperated, but beware, because she is anything but. This bitch is simply an evil manifestation of the crazy bitch, a more cruel and calculated version. She had her heart broken and she is going to settle the score one dude at a time.

She cannot be bothered with real emotions unless it somehow pertains to her mission. She assumes men only want one thing from her and as long as that is the case, she has no problem toying with multiple male suitors at once. But I thought the old lady dropped it into the ocean in the end. Well honey, I went down and got it for you. Aw! You shouldn't have! As a friend, there is really nothing you can do about this one but sit back and enjoy the show. She'll eventually become bored with this game and fall back into the normal single bitch you know and love.

5. The Overachiever 

This bitch will appear as though nothing even happened. She will wake up one day and decide she is going to run a half marathon. She will become a volunteer and take a sudden interest in something very #lame like knitting or salsa dancing. She will join clubs and read books. She will enroll in a cooking class. She will hit the gym at least once a day and grab the bagel out of your clutches because #ewthosehavewaytoomanycarbs. The overachiever suffers in silence, but is always on the verge of breaking down in the middle of Ikea. As a friend, it is your job to support her endeavors even if that means you find yourself serving soup to the homeless on Saturday morning (Holy hungover!) or accompanying her to church (you're not even Catholic).

6. The Stage 5

The Stage 5 Clinger is out to find her new soul-mate-and in a hurry. She has no time for a broken heart because she is going to find someone better and NOW. She meets new dudes at the bar and thinks she feels an instant connection- they might be the one! What is his last name? No idea. All she knows, is that they WILL mostly likely be wandering down that aisle of love within the next 48 to 72 hours. Flirt with her at the bar and you may find yourself tied to a bed in a full tux with an online minister asking if you do. You DON'T. She scares even the most interested men away faster than she can say himynameis. She doesn't understand what happens with these dudes she meets and begins to question if there is something wrong with her (inherently these isn't.)

As a friend, this may be the hardest situation because it can mean that your bff will have their heart broken over and over again by dudes who just want to #putitinandgetout. Alas, this may be a lesson she will have to learn on her own and it is only your duty to intervene if it takes a toll on her confidence. Time for a chat about all those fishies in the sea and perhaps an eHarmony profile. For $40 a month, those men are looking for love. Or can at least afford to buy her a meal. 

Conclusion

At the end of the day, we're young, dumb, and dancing on bars sounds like a splendid idea when you're ten deep and distraught. It is only when you wake up in the morning with bruises and broken nails that you realize how high that bar actually was. Oh, look at me getting all metaphorical. If you find yourself morphing into one of these alter-egos, rest assured it will pass with time. And time really is the only cure. As a friend, it is hard to know when to intervene, but somewhere between male suitor #56, purchasing a flame thrower, and/or dumpster diving, it may be time for an intervention. In the meantime, support them and be there when they need you (#awwwww).

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Google+ Is Watching You. Should We Care?

I’m not much for conspiracy theories. We probably went to the Moon. I pretty much immediately believed my mother when she told me that monsters were not residing under my bed. More than that, I’m hardly what you would call paranoid. Microwaves don’t scare me. If Area 51 is full of aliens, I’m not sure I care unless they have invented something really awesome like a hybrid between pudding and Jell-O and the government is preventing them from sharing. I think you get the point, if there was one.

This idea all dawned on me when a friend who works in marketing for a major hosting service commented on one of my blog posts. He said, “Google Plus isn’t really a new social network – it simply links together all the existing Google tools and makes them all better. Google already has every component of facebook (and most are better) now Google is just tying all them together.”

Alright. Not mind blowing, but the part about Google+ not really being a social network stuck with me. I started to do some research and then it all fit together. I knew a couple things. Google had been attempting to find ways to get users logged in for some time- to really prevent people from logging out when they used the search feature. There had been signs. Google shutting down experimental labs. Google desperately trying to find new ways to make money (Google Deals, Google Wallet—my favorite, Google Weddings). Google getting way too close for comfort (holy, personalized search!). My first reaction was like, “Holy crap! This will be an awesome tool to use at work!” As soon as stars left my eyes thinking of the advertising capabilities Google would now offer me, I started to think about it from a user perspective and I became deeply uncomfortable. So, let’s talk about that.

For years now, I’ve been sharing my pictures, personal information, and thoughts on Facebook, fully aware that Facebook could use that information to target me with advertising. We are all aware that the things we like can be used against us-- liking Mommy blogs for my job has landed me a whole host of baby diaper giveaways and parenting products--And frankly, I don’t mind. Babies are cool. I am conscious of the fact that Facebook shows me things it thinks I will find interesting based on my previous behavior.  Usually, it is right on the money and because Facebook is where I go to “socialize”/see what my friends and things I like think and do, there is no problem with this in my eyes. Facebook is afterall, a social network. Now Google wants to take this model and apply it to… well everything, but in particular search. And this is where my social world and my search world collide in a way that I am extremely uncomfortable with.

Let’s start from the beginning. As of late, Google, has been really ticking me off. Is it because they copy everyone’s cool ideas oh-so-arrogantly believing they can do them better? (Groupon, Foursquare, Allegedly Facebook) Well, kind of. Nobody likes a copycat. Even more, no one likes a bully. But, what is so different about Google+ (allegedly Google’s attempt at a social network—wait, isn’t that Orkut?) that has me going a little “1984” on you all? Whatever I may think, you should make up your own mind, so let’s do just that. First, watch this video:

Next, let’s read. My Father taught me one thing: Always read something before you sign it. So, let’s dive into the Google+ Terms and Conditions and see what is really here. If you’d like to follow along, you can find the document here (http://www.google.com/intl/en/+/policy/)

Google+ Privacy Policy

“Information we collect and how we use it

·      We will record information about your activity - such as posts you comment on and the other users with whom you interact - in order to provide you and other users with a better experience on Google services.”

Alright, so Google retains the right to gather everything I share and then use that information to provide me with a “better experience”. If you aren’t up to date with what services Google now offers, here is a short list: Web Search, Google Chrome, iGoogle, Toolbar, Bookmarks, Mobile, Maps for mobile, Search for mobile,YouTube, Books, Images, News, Videos, Picasa, Picnik, Latitude, Maps, Earth, Panoramio, Docs, Gmail, Calendar, Sites, Talk, Translate, Voice, SketchUp, Desktop, Pack, Checkout, Google Health, Blogger, Groups, Knol, Orkut, Reader, Specialized Search, Fusion Tables, and Code. We’re missing things like the Google Affiliate Network, Google Analytics, Google AdWords, and offshoot, things like Google Weddings. I’m not sure if these are included in the “services”, so I need to go look it up: 

“Your use of Google’s products, software, services and web sites (referred to collectively as the “Services” in this document and excluding any services provided to you by Google under a separate written agreement) is subject to the terms of a legal agreement between you and Google.” (http://www.google.com/accounts/TOS)

Alright, so basically, this means everywhere. They are extremely vague here on how they will use that information for a reason, but we’ll get to that later. Let’s keep going:

           

“We may also collect information about you from other users, such as when someone puts you in one of their circles or tags you in a photo. Some users may choose to display information about you publicly, such as by displaying your public profile name and photo on their Google Profile in a list of people they’ve added to their circles.”

So, this sounds scary, but it isn’t much different than Facebook really. Only, since this is Google, when it says “public”, it really means that this image that my friend shared of me will be available to the nearly 1 billion unique global visitors Google.com gets each month. As in, when someone uses Google images, this picture has the potential to come up. I’m a little uncomfortable with that, but hopefully my friends aren’t negligent. Let’s keep reading.

Google Profile.

In order to use Google+, you need to have a public Google Profile visible to the world, which at a minimum includes the name you chose for the profile. That name will be used across Google services and in some cases it may replace another name you’ve used when sharing content under your Google Account. We may display your Google Profile identity to people who have your email address or other identifying information.

Posts and other content shared by or with you - such as photos of you - may be visible on your profile to those with whom that content has been shared. You can use the profile editor to see how your profile appears to particular individuals.

Pretty standard, except for the fact that profiles MUST be public. A little bizarre, but at least we have the option to share nothing, right? Wrong. As long as you create a profile, Google retains the right to observe how you interact with others and is able to use your circles to determine things about you.

My conclusion:

• Google will use my information and things I post to give me more “relevant” search results (they already do this, but now they have oodles of information to target me with). An example of this would be that if you talk to a friend about the new puppy you are getting over Google+, when you type in "pets" into Google search, search results with puppies in them will come up first.
• Google will record whom I interact with and show me results that my “circles” find relevant.
• From an advertising perspective, Google is about to +1 you all the way to the bank. They now have multiple ways to target users with ads AND organic search.

Why is this bad?

• Maybe you don’t think it is, but I think it limits the power of Google--which originally was all about access to quality information. It is essentially putting their profit model (Google AdWords and personalized search) ahead of the most relevant information based on merit only.
• It allows us to be lazier than we already are. 
• It doesn't really allow for us to easily access information outside of our comfort zone. 
• Google never told us this explicitly. 

Final Thoughts:

Just give me relevant information. I can do the rest.

What do you think?

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Mean Girls, Bullies, and Bitches That Hit You in the face: a Tutorial on How to Deal with Mean Girls

Haters will always hate. Players will always play. And me? Well I can always be counted on to get the last word--or at least profit from other people’s mean-spirited shenanigans in a totally self-serving, Jon-Stewart-Show kind of way. Also, I have impeccable diction so putting you into the extremely narrow back pocket of my designer jeans (okay, sometimes they are from Forever) comes easier than many would expect. So, welcome to my tutorial on how to deal with crazy bias, gents, and people that are utterly jealous of your success and/or generally obsessed with your life.

First off, the old saying is true, you should at least attempt to be the bigger person and walk away (strut if at all possible) from confrontation. For the most part, I normally adhere to this policy unless you are A) a strip club bouncer telling me to show you my boobs to gain access B) a doorman calling my friends ugly, or C) any other male that pisses me off, spills my drink, or steps on my new stilettos. Watch where you are going, will you?

Like I said, avoidance is best, but not always an obtainable end. Before you use any of these suggested tactics, be sure that there is absolutely no way to avoid the confrontation. You don’t want to be the crazy bitch that starts stuff with people for no reason. Then, you’re just kind of a loose canon and will in fact turn into the bitches we are attempting to battle here.

If you did something stupid, apologize. We aren’t 5 years old. We must take responsibility if we were in the wrong. Don’t be a fake bitch, but also don’t start drama with people unless there is no way to dodge it. Adhere to the 24 hour policy: Do not take action for 24 hours. If you are still struggling to keep your composure, take another 24. If you find yourself in the middle of a screaming match, count to ten in your head. Think of puppies and rainbows and unicorn-fairy dust.

In any case, if you’ve continued to read, you’ve reached the point of no return. You've waited the sufficient amount of time. You’ve apologized and they won’t let it go. Or you’ve probably been confronted with the same issue too many times. Don’t be a doormat—if this is habitual-borderline-harassment, ongoing kind of thing, you need to take a stand. In this instance, the crazy is most likely going to keep coming until you give them a reason not to. Perhaps, they will even keep coming back for more after you put them in your proverbial pocket, but you can’t be bothered with what they will or won’t do after. 

Rules of Engagement.

Over the years, I’ve developed a pretty awesome defense mechanism when it comes to dealing with the haters and I’d like to share these tips with you.   

Rule 1. Do not go out of your way to make their lives miserable. 

As much as I’d like to use my SEO know-how to make search engines conquer up photos of child molesters and cartoon exotica when one Googles my haters’ names, I refrain. Why? Too much effort. How would I benefit? I wouldn’t. Alright, yes, I might pee my pants laughing for a couple days, but then I’ll just be like, “Shit. That was stupid. And mean. Oh NO, I’m one of THEM!”

It is always important to remember, haters are miserable all by their damned selves—it stems from not being properly brought up (poor them) and deep-rooted insecurities. It might be because their career path didn’t go the way they planned. No one dreams of being an unemployed twenty-something living on Mom’s sofa. No one strives to attend online law school (Wait, no, really?). No one aspires to work at their Parent's bar or dive for change in strangers' loveseats to make ends meet. Maybe they were shorted in the brains/looks/general talent department (If there isn’t two forms of your/you’re in their vocabulary, that is usually a sign).

Life throws us challenges and short changes us, but the way in which we react to the mishaps or misfortunes in life is a direct reflection of the kind of human being that is under the grit. If they feel the need to take out their bullshit problems on others, then they are shitty people. If they are mean for seemingly no reason besides the fact that it brings them joy, then they are beyond repair.

Whatever the case may be, it should NEVER be your intent to actively try and make them take a long walk off a short bridge (Thanks Dad). You don’t need to do anything to make your hater bask in a pool of their misery. They do it everyday. Willingly. Without water wings. In the deep end. With improper eye-wear. Probably in last season’s tankini.

Rule 2. Do not exert any more energy than necessary.

If the hater is standing in front of you yelling at you, do not go all teenmomsmackdown on her/his butt or start rambling off crap like, "YEAH! WELL I'M PRETTIER THAN YOU!" Stand straight. Stay composed. Laugh. Give them the “uhm, whattheeffareyoudoing” face. If you have difficulty contorting your face in the just the right manner, then just channel the thoughts you had when you found out about the birds and bees. The result will be a face that borders between concern, “holyshitthispersonisbatshitcrazyrunforthehillsAH!” and curiosity.  This hater is putting on a show for you. Try not to clap, but snaps for effort might be applicable. One word responses work best. Repeating the word “No” usually does the trick. Also effective, “Yes.” Agreeing with crazies only makes them question their sanity.

Rule 3. See Rule 2. Add humor. Mix. Serve in a martini class (Preferably not over your hater's head).

If you’ve found yourself in the middle of a highschool-esque Facebook showdown, please see the humor in it. Do not resort to actually confronting the person in a public balls-to-the-walls battle. If you’re a true betch (which I’m assuming you are if you’re read this far), you could squash them without a full keyboard. On a flip-phone (Do they still make those?) With T9.  Using one hand. After 4 margaritas.

As tempting as it may be, don’t do it. You’re just making yourself look as stupid as they are. If you find the need to say something, make sure it is vague, true, and that there is humor at the root. Do not go for the low blows because you’ll find yourself morphing into one of these haters faster than you can say eatingdisorderreligionsexualorientation.

I cannot stress enough the fact that the less you say directly to them, the more infuriated and out of control your haters will become. Everyone was a little relieved when Regina got hit by a bus. But it is important to never be driving the bus, shoving people in front of buses, or hiring people to topple over people with buses (These are metaphorical buses). Karma is a bitch and she knows just what to do with truly mean girls.

When they reach their breaking point, it is in fact, THE HATER who will end up with egg on their face. You can only hope that your actions or inaction will trigger a crazy, over-the-top response (normally this will just be them showing their true colors). This over the top behavior could be a sudden outburst of nonsensical and stupid comments. It could come in the form of a low blow that makes even their friends turn to them and say, “YOU’RE OUT OF LINE!” (if they have friends) or…the hater could actually end up punching you in the face. Jerry-Springer style. (Only the really classy bitches swing punches at other girls.) (That was sarcasm) And don’t worry, from experience, haters have a very weak right hook. Yes, even the softball players.

Rule 4. If you have to cry, get it over with.

Most of the time, these haters don’t faze us.  But on the off chance that they cross the line (OK-they usually do right before the burst of craziness erupts from their small little noggins), you are allowed to be hurt. After all, what kind of person would you be if you had no feelings at all? Being able to fess up to your feelings doesn’t make you weak; it makes you real. So, if you need to get out a good “waaaah” session because some bitch went into the no-fly zone with a sawed off shot-gun and said something about your dead father or tells you to go kill yourself and includes details, go ahead, cry. If the girl hits you in the face, by all means, shed a tear. After all, you just got punched in the frickin' face! True friends and good people will see that this mean girl has in fact showed her truly mean colors (Think white after labor day-- even worse, at a wedding) (Or tie dye).

Rule 5. Don’t listen.

No matter how many tables you danced on or how many photos there might be on the interwebz of you participating in belligerent tomfoolery, you are not what they say you are. All that is the frivolous bullshit. Never ever feel like you're less than fucking perfect (Yes, that was P!NK). Never question who you are. Chances are that these haters have never even had a real conversation with you--in fact, 9 out of 10 times, they probably can't even come up with any hard evidence of instances that support their case for hating your guts.

At the end of the day, what do you have to show for your life? All TRUE betches know that they are required to play hard, work harder, give their hardest and end up graduating with honors and several job offers. Most importantly, give back. In whatever form you can. Success is the best form of revenge. In the words of Gaga herself,

"I used to get made fun of & bullied everyday by really mean girls with no tits-really mean rich girls with no tits. I still get made fun of by really mean rich girls with no tits, so I guess nothings really changed, but anyway, my point is I’ve had the indescribable pleasure of performing in front of 20,000 people.. in front of the people who bullied me, so for those of you being bullied--i promise you, you will have your fucking day of revenge. So, do you feel sexy now?" ~ GaGa

Yes, we are awesome and independent. And boy, do we feel sexy. ;)

Rule 6. Feel sorry for them. No, really do.

The fact that this bitch and/or gent has devoted so much time to making your life a living hell is actually a testament to how awesomely awesome you are. You must be doing something right to have become the center of their universe. Instead of trying to build themselves up, they’ve resorted to knocking others to the ground. This behavior is sad and comes from an ugly and loathing place. You are not in that place. You are in the sunshine. With your Raybans and Mike’s Harder Lemonade. Playing Frisbee. Or pretending to. At the end of the day, she/he is “mean, and a liar, and pathetic, and alone in life and mean” (thank you T. Swizzle).  And you are not. So, really, do pity them for their sad, lonely lives. They are people--sad people with little direction and a deep pool of misery in their backyard. And no one wants to splash in a dingy pool of misery with them. Wahhh.

Rule 7. Always come out on top.

Stay classy. If you must vent, make sure you are profiting from their bullshit in a way that is measurable. For instance, in the form of humorous Blog post about how to deal with crazy bitches.

$.10 a click, bitches. 

(And that, ladies, is how you turn a negative experience into something positive.)

Thanks for reading! Share if you've had to deal with your share of mean girls, bullies, or bitches who hit you in the face.

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Facebook & Break-ups: It is what it is.

Break-ups suck for all parties involved. It really doesn’t matter whether you are the the dumpee or the dumper. You can be the cheater, the liar, or the naïve one. You can participate in the “mutual break-up” which we all know is a sham. The heartbreaker or the heartbroken. When dealing with break-ups, God is great, beer is good, and people are batshit crazy.

People have been breaking up, participating in scandalous extracurricular activities, and messing with people's minds for centuries. Although tragic for all those involved,  it normally wasn’t a matter of national security unless you were Bill Clinton, a famous actress, or your significant other went all “Chicago” on your ass.

Back then, there was the lovely awkward run-ins with mutual “friends” who wanted you to dish the details or gave you the pity party: “How are you are?” As if they actually gave two shits about your current state. If you were in college, you might be forced to occupy the same room as them (this is the best-- especially if it was feminist political theory.) I once had an ex-boyfriend literally come up to me in the quad and kick me in the shins. He didn’t say a word. It was weird, but if break-ups weren’t already sufficiently strange, we naturally just HAD to take it to the next level.

Cue Mark Zuckerberg, you bastard. Facebook takes breakups to a whole new level of nutty. The moment your status goes from “In a Relationship” to “Single”, everyone pisses his or her pants with excitement. It is like the forth of the July for the bored, insecure, and annoying. Fireworks light up Facebook’s sky and the 1812 Overture resounds loudly through their speakers. Whether they admit it or not, people get off on other people's tragedies and having the news delivered to them without even asking for it via a friends feed is the ultimate.

Instead of maybe accidentally running to friends at school or at the routine hangout, you are now forced to have a run-in every time you sign onto Facebook: “OMG, I just saw you were single, WHAT HAPPENED?” People literally come out of the woodwork. Your cousin’s boss, your lab partner 3 years ago, or your ex’s best friend’s mom. No one seems to think that this is an inappropriate question.

Yes, this is exactly what I feel like doing right now. Spilling the details of my most personal life with you, dear quasi-stranger. At this point, ignoring them gives them ammo to use against you. So you have a few options, you can straight up tell them you’d rather not discuss it in which case you are obviously hiding something (well, duh?). You can give them the “It just wasn’t working out” or, my personal favorite, “I found out my boyfriend loves the dick. Like yeah, he’s just really really gay. Like Elton John gay.” To which they normally don’t know how to immediately respond. Either way, they will go on prying for details until you sign off.

The chaos ensues. You get blocked by random people. Your ex’s mom. Your ex’s gardener. As if they are symbolically trying to illustrate to you that they have selected a side. “BOOYAH, I pick him!” Okay, cool. Thanks for being an immature twit. I am not referring to one break-up in particular here, rather, a slew of them that have insinuated the strangest types of behavior from otherwise normal people. Like I said, Batshit crazy.

Forget other people. Holy, ex-feed! Yes. If you don’t choose to go looking for the recent happenings of your ex-significant other (you never should), have no fear, because Facebook is here to share the gritty details with you anyway. It’s really because Facebook’s algorithm thinks you want to see this information based on patterns of past behavior, but I’m just going to say that it is because Mark Zuckerberg is a lonely loser who wants to torture us all.

Oh hey, yes, Facebook. Thank you so much. I actually really woke up this morning elated to see the hundred and two pictures tagged by my ex’s new girlfriend. Mobile uploads of body shots? EXCELLENT! My boyfriend is a now friends with the girl he may or may not have cheated on me with? Woo, thanks for sharing this vital piece of information. Yes, I wanted to know the exact amount of people that have "liked" that my boyfriend is now single. Checking in at The Vu? Okay, maybe this is the only piece of information that I DO actually find hilarious.

Don't underestimate your ex. He might have not known the difference between a mobile upload and a wall picture when you were dating, but now he's all over the book. He's a Facebook ninja. Posting, Commenting, Liking, Friending, Poking, changing his profile picture to reflect his mood. This is his way of showing you that, LOOK, he has a life too. If you're smart, you'll ignore this behavior and brush it off as a desperate attempt to illustrate he hasn't died without you. Or, you'll take this as a challenge, "Let's see how many fricking pictures I can upload this week where I look like I'm happy and oh LOOK, is that a boy with his arm around me?" Look at me now. Look. at. me. now.

Whatever the case or circumstances may be surrounding your break-up, it won’t matter. Facebook will take a shitty, yet uncomplicated situation and transform it into front-page news. Do I have a solution? Naw, I love Facebook too much to do away with it even if it ends up resulting in World War 3.

And everyone knows, the real way to combat break-ups isn’t via Facebook. It’s in the form of witty, satirical blog posts to ruffle peoples’ panties and shed light upon the silly truth.

Whisper amongst yourselves.

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When Parents Facebook Chat

Let me premise this by saying my mother isn’t illiterate. Nor is she is technologically challenged. In fact, she’s a pretty smart lady. When I was younger, she could be counted on to solve our computer calamities, fumble around with our entertainment system until it blared backstreet boys, and was the only person who knew how to change the batteries in my Furby. The phenomenon of caveman-speak first surfaced when she began text messaging. She became obsessed with abbreviations, some of which I had never heard. Granted, she doesn’t have a full keyboard and is stuck with T9 so her brief, choppy messages are understandable. However, my mother has recently discovered Facebook Chat is the easiest method in which to get a hold of me since my job requires me to be on it for a good portion of the day. She has since carried the barely legible, Tarzan talk over to Facebook Chat. And I am not Jane.


What does this mean? I have not the slightest idea. My father, nieces, and her are in Florida. This is what came next.


I located the picture.




Yes, and now it all makes sense. She was actually perfectly describing the series of events that were transpiring in Florida.

Mallory Speak Mom Talk.

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The Facebook "Like" Button

Dear Facebook “Like” Button,

I like you. I overuse you. I “like” a lot of things. If Facebook provided me with the option to “Love” things, perhaps I wouldn’t have the issue that I have. I give out “likes” like I have an unlimited, free supply. People often times are irked by my enthusiasm for “Liking” their things. To them I say, I like you. Don’t be angry. I truly do like you.

I once awoke from a deep slumber to over 52 notifications from a friend with whom I was quarreling. I had to admire her sheer and utter genius as she had single handedly “liked” everything on my Facebook page for the year of 2009. I had to acknowledge this as not only epic, but hilarious because it is exactly the kind of thing I would have done given the right amount of alcohol or necessary amount of boredom.

Oh hello, you complete stranger, mere acquaintance, or fair weather friend, you “Like” my wallpost, do you now? You think I don’t speak fluent Facebook? I know what that translates to in the Facebook realm, I am the queen of passive aggressive Facebook behavior. I could Facebook own your mother.

It is a bit tricky these days to discern the difference between a true Facebook “like” and a bitch slap to the face, but be assured, that thumbs up button can be used for evil just as easily as it can be used to let a friend know that you like the photos of her pet bunny.

I’m not sure how you feel about this, dearest “like” button, do you feel misused? Misrepresented? Do you look down upon those that use you for their sinister revenge plots?

Looking forward to hearing from you,

M

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#younotfromdetroit Trends On Twitter

Most likely sparked by the Chrysler 200 Superbowl spot featuring Detroit superstar Eminem, #younotfromdetroit was trending on Twitter this morning. Michigan residents received the message of hope and ran with it prompting the hash tag "younotfromdetroit" to briefly pop up in the United States trending topics.

Michigan's very own Mike Posner gave his hometown a little love tweeting:

Compton Native Rapper The Game and former member of Dr. Dre's Aftermath Entertainment and G-unit declared:

The Game does have ties to in Detroit in his affiliation with Dr. Dre, 50 Cent, and Proof, but the Tweet most likely refers to the hip-hop feud between former mentor 50 Cent and himself and his new friendship with rapper Rick Ross. After leaving 50's side in early 2005 due to tension between the two rappers, The Game left Aftermath Entertainment and was dismissed from G-unit. Rapper Rick Ross took on a beef with 50 Cent in 2009 after which time the Game began doing collaboration work with Rick Ross. "Big Meech" refers to the Black Mafia Family, a drug-trafficking group based out of Detroit, Michigan and is also referenced in lyrics from Rick Ross's new track entitled "Blowing Money Fast":

"I think I'm Big Meech, Larry Hoover / whipping work / halleluiah / one nation under god real n***** getting money from the f***in' start."

Fellow Detroiters and Michigan folks joined in the conversation adding their two cents:

Others poked fun at the trending topic with negative comments about Detroit:

What do you think? #younotfromdetroit .... Share.

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The managing partners.

The managing partners talking smack to one another via Yahoo Messenger. Pretty standard.

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Is Google TOO big?

Google is big. I mean, really big. Google is only a mere 12 years old and has managed to plow past the search engine competition with ease leaving Yahoo, Bing, and Ask in its rear-view mirror. We’re all fairly aware of the extent to which Google dominates the search market, however, these days Google can be found dabbling in just about everything. Prior to writing this article, I fancied myself a bit of Google connoisseur. I work at a search engine optimization firm and as a social media consultant and as far as Google’s role as a search engine goes, I know more than the average Jane. After fishing around for some material for this article, I can wholeheartedly say my bank of knowledge is more limited than I originally thought.

Most can confidently give you the lowdown on Adwords, Adsense, and the Google Affiliate Network. We can complain about the Google Affiliate Network’s interface and how antiquated it is compared to Commission Junction and Linkshare. We can spout information about the always-handy Google Docs and how useful it is for collaborative efforts and real-time editing. We can tell you about how finicky Google is as a search engine as we watch our clients’ rankings move up or down a position bi-weekly. I am currently writing this in Google’s Blogger while simultaneously chatting on Gmail. Despite my knowledge of some of Google’s heavy players, much of Google’s massive network of services has eluded me.

So, what gives with all these sectors of Google I didn’t even know about? Have I been living under a rock? A quick survey of the office illustrates that I am not alone in being completely unaware of some of the services Google now provides outside the scope of search. I had heard and giggled about Google Weddings, clearly aimed at stealing a piece of the virtual wedding cake from the TheKnot.com. I had heard about Orkut, Google’s social network, but don’t personally know anyone that uses it in the US. So what all does Google offer these days? A comprehensive list is hard to get my hands on, but if you're sincerely interested, Wikipedia has a pretty accurate list here and Google lists some of them here.


This is my newly made Orkut.

In addition to stomping the competition in terms of search, Google is striving to be number one in other countless corners of web. Although Google does some things very well and arguably pioneered the simple interfaces that have spawned the success of sites like Twitter and Facebook, it would be nearly impossible to succeed in every realm of the internet. The aspect of Google's expansion that leaves me wary isn't the way they have developed and refined their search engine, it has more to do with the replication and/or acquisition of smaller companies combined with their power as a dominate search engine. Let me break it down.



My problems are twofold. First, their constant need to branch out into other markets seems strange to me. Here's how it works: Google sees something new and fancy. Google likes it. Google tries to buy it. Then, one of two things can transpire: 1. Google can successfully purchase the company and welcome it into the Google family or 2. Google is turned down by said company and then decides to replicate the company they could not acquire. Examples of this can be seen with several recent acquisitions and expansions and throughout Google's short history. Soon after the now obsolete Friendster told Google to hit the road in late 2003, Google's Friendster-like social network Orkut sprung up. In 2006, Google acquired YouTube for $1.65 billion. When Foursquare recently turned down Google's offer to purchase the rising star, Google expanded Google Places to mimic some of the features Foursquare offers. Google's list of acquisitions goes on and there are few places left on the web that Google doesn't have a hand in which leads me to my next point.

One can only wonder at what point Google's business endeavors and random offshoots will be in conflict of interest with their "unbiased" search. A prime example of this can be seen with Google Places (www.google.com/places) and Google Weddings (www.google.com/weddings), both on the Google.com domain name and not a sub-domain like many of Google's other ventures (adwords.google.com). For right now, Theknot.com still outranks Google Weddings by a long-shot for the generic wedding keywords, but how long will this be the case? Can Google really retain the same algorithm it uses now to crawl its own business sites? How will that work? Time will tell.




Google's immense power is undeniable. If a business falls a few spots in Google search, they risk losing thousands of hits and potential customers each month. Companies spend hundreds of thousands of dollars each year to secure first page visibility on Google from search firms like my own. Google has the power to "punish" firms that it thinks cheat the system by reducing their rankings and burying their sites, as seen in the recent JC Penny controversy featured in the New York Times.

One thing is for certain, big can mean success, but the bigger you are and the higher you climb, the harder you fall and as recent times have illustrated, nothing is too big to fail. Moreover, should one company really have the internet on lock? How much power is too much power? Should Google stick to search? Are there some things Google should keep their paws off of? Share.

For more on this topic, check out this article in the New York Times about Google's potential monopoly on search and how it will pan out in the future.

Over and out.

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Crazy People (With Cars in Parking Lots)

Dear Crazy People With Cars in Parking Lots, I’ve been witness to a whole array of crazy people with cars; people of all shapes and sizes and all varieties of nutty. I have been a victim of road rage on several occasions. Admittedly, I am not a stellar driver. In fact, I am one of those people that you hate because I always realize too late that I’m in the wrong lane and then apologetically stick my head out of my window and ask you to let me over. Normally this occurs when I am outside my comfort zone, which pretty much includes most of Mid-Michigan and all of West Michigan. Don’t hate me. I don’t know where I am.

However irked you may be, outlandish acts of anger seem a bit unwarranted. The following reactions seem a little melodramatic: failing your arms in anger, yelling obscenities, threatening to punch the other people in their privates and murder their kittens, actually getting out of your car and yelling at their closed window at a stop light. Like, relax a little, will you? We’re all going to get where we’re going. No one stole your first-born. It might have been an accident. Maybe their dog just died. Chill out.

I have often been afraid that the man cussing and throwing his hands in the air (like he just don’t care) is going to pull out a 45 and shoot my tires and then me. I’ve spoken of the bizarre way in which people react to construction (and the satanic devilcones), but I have not addressed a prime environment for crazy people with cars: the mall parking lot.

I'm going to tell you a story. I was at a mall over Memorial Day Weekend with the intent to take my MacBook Pro in to be fixed. So, I am scouring the lot for a space like the other 20 cars searching for a spot in this lot teeming with cars. I am chugging along looking left and right when I spot a couple with hoards of packages making their way back to their vehicle. So I follow them to their car like a predator stalking its parking lot pray. I wait for them to get into their car. 

While I’m waiting and bobbing my head along to Britney, a car pulls in front of me on the wrong side of the road and cuts me off. This annoys me. I make a face at the car like, “MOTHAFUCKA, can’t you see I was here first?” (To be performed in a Jenna Marbles’ voice) Several young male teenagers with their pants down to their knees pass my car and giggle at my reaction to being cut off by this car. They motion for me to take their spot. I laugh that they saw my "whattheeffareyoudoing" face and pull up to take their spot. Crisis averted. No need to murder this CutterMcCutterson with my eyes. I wait as they make their way into the vehicle

In the mean time, CutterMcCutterson realizes that the couple lugging packages to their car was there to make a drop-off before booking it back to the mall to make additional purchases. Rick rolled. Oh well, sucks for you CutterMcCutterson. You have bad parking Karma for swooping my space.    

So I’m in a good mood again, blabbering to my passenger when BAM! Here comes CutterMcCutterson again pulling in front of me on the wrong side of the road to steal my parking spot. Okay, NOW this is just getting ridiculous. Not only is this car, once again, absconding with my prized parking spot, it is blocking traffic. I feel like a dick because no one can get around us while this dumb dumb has lodged himself in the middle of the lane on the wrong side of the road. So, I hum and haw and move along to find another spot. I complain to my passenger and am starting to get frustrated, but it is just a parking spot. I will find another.

I make my way around the lot. Right as I am about to turn, I notice that my teenage sag-ers are backing out in front of CuttyMcCutterson. I have a very small window of time to make a decision. Do I steal my parking spot back? Do I do the responsible thing and just let it go? I have difficultly ordering off a menu for fear I might order the wrong thing and that the world may end because of my poor choice, so most of the time indecision gets the best of me and I miss my opportunity to act. However, I am feeling gutsy today. I swoop in and steal it back. I pull into the spot giddy with excitement. BOOYAH, CUTTY! I got the spot, I got the spot! I do a little victory jig in the Jetta before realizing that there will probably be consequences for my rash and somewhat immature decision.

The driver, who I small refer to as Little Red for his small stature and ginger hair, is now yelling. I ask my passenger to look back and see what is going on. We don’t get out of the car. We wait for them to leave. They don’t leave. We wait 5 minutes, but they’re still parked behind my vehicle. Little Red sends this lady friend to my window. The lady friend is wearing a jean skirt from circa 1999 and an Aeropostale belly shirt circa 2001. I judge her. She walks up to my window and motions for me to roll it down. At this point, I’m like, “AWESOME, this girl in this ugly skirt is going to poke me in the eye with her stupid finger and leave me here to die.” I roll down the window.

“Uhm, we were waiting for that spot!” She declares with her hands perched on her hips.

What is she attempting to accomplish here? Am I supposed to back out of the space and give it to them? No one does that. I stare at her and then laugh, “Dude, you cut me off twice. You were on the wrong side of the road. I simply took back what was rightfully mine. Sorry.”

She rolls her eyes at me and stomps back to her car while I giggle, elated that I was able to stand up to ugly skirt girl. I wait for ugly skirt girl to get back to her vehicle and then, thinking that the altercation is over; I turn off my car and prepare to get out. But no, Little Red is still screaming at the top of his little lungs things that people should not yell in public. Little Red is threatening to beat my butt, which only makes me laugh harder because this guy is the size of a lunchbox. A small one, a Dora the Explorer one. 

It should be said that I do not recommend laughing at visibly angry people. It only makes them angrier. Little Red looks like he is going to burst out of his little head. The other cars that witnessed Little Red and I’s parking spot feud have gathered to watch. At this point, he has been parked behind my car for almost 10 minutes. I finally get out of my car. What is Little Red going to do? Beat up a girl? He yells, “STUPID C***!” at me before zooming off to cut someone else off. I remain calm, shaking my head and laughing, embarrassed that I have caused such a ruckus in the Somerset parking lot.

So, to you Angry/Nutty People With Cars in Parking Lots, why are you so angry? Why soooo serious? What has your boxer briefs in a bunch? And let me leave you with this questions, "WHY ARE YELLING AT ME?" (Wedding Crashers references get +1)

PS- Has this ever happened to anyone else? Are there really angry people all over this world or do they just follow me around?

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