You might be offended today, but I have to get this off my chest:
The Taliban, who thinks it's righteous and holy to shoot a teenaged girl for pursuing her education, should be castrated in boiling acid. One prick at a time. Until they're all wiped out. You can judge a tree by it's fruit, or nuts in their case. No civil society should allow room for that kind of behavior.
Equally offensive thoughts in my head:
I totally judged you when I passed you in your yard yesterday, overweight man with cigarette in one hand and electric leaf blower in the other.
Why does every tailgater seem to drive an SUV? There must be something awfully empowering about driving such a vehicle that makes a person have NO SENSE OF FEAR, since they feel safe driving two feet from my rear bumper at 60-70 MPH. People, you never see anyone tailgating in a Buick. Just my personal observation.
Food for thought, tailgaters: I'm driving an 8 year old dented tan Momvan slightly above the posted speed limit. If I can't see YOUR front grille in my rear view window, there's very little preventing me from braking hard and fast and there's very little space for you to react to avoid rear-ending me. What do I have to lose?
On Halloween costumes. Boys can look scary, brave, bold, supernatural, super-powered, armed, professional, silly and/or creative. Apparently girls have two options: princess and slutty. Don't believe me? Check out any Halloween costume ad and you'll see what I mean. Total sexist crap, IMHO. I'm not the only one feeling this way.
Finally, and this last one just irritates the hell out of me. In karate we do various drills. Last night's involved kicking (hard) in various ways, then doing lunges to the back wall and back to do the next series of kicks. The first people done are usually slackers, sissy-tapping the body shields and striding instead of lunging across the floor. Also, the first people done are usually kids. The last people done usually did it right, which takes more time and effort. They're also usually adults. Anyway, as one of the last ones done, I have to listen to all the pipsqueak brats cheer me on. "You can do it, Ms. W! Come on! You're almost done!" As if I require their encouragement to finish. As if they finished first and have the right to cheer for me coming in behind them. As if they finished ahead of me because they're better and faster, and gee, why don't I catch up? I want to stop and scream at them, "Listen you little punks, if you'd have done this drill correctly, you'd still be doing it and you'd actually be sweating and out of breath instead of yelling at me to 'Finish strong'!" But that probably wouldn't settle well with their parents, would it?
Okay, I'll leave you with this link, which is a riot if you're an NFL fan. If you're not, go in peace. I'll be back tomorrow spouting rainbows, sparkles and happy thoughts.