Complaint Department

I am a whiney bitch. I am a complanier who always finds the lump of coal in even the most festive of stockings. I don’t look for the shit stains of life, their stench just wafts it’s way to my crinkled nostrils without end. I’m sure it drives my girl nuts, and I try in vain to temper my unhappiness with everything by forcing a smile, shaking my head silently, and keeping things to myself as much as possible.

It’s so damn hard, though.

I hate everyone. I hate everything that everyone does, and I hate them for doing it in such a way that makes me even more unhappy. I honk when drivers are morons, I yell to neighbor kids to be quiet, I turn and shout at people who stare at my hands, and never ever let anything go. People who really hate complainers tell me, “Do something to make things better, or stop whining about it!”

They should count their blessings that I don’t do things to make it better. My better would be setting fire to the houses of awful people. My better would be running over children whose parents let them play in the streets. My better would be taking a baseball bat to the kneecaps and faces of all who bring more than 10 items to the 10 Items Or Less lane.

If I were to do something to make the world better, instead of whining and complaining like a little brat – the world would fall to ashes, people would lay rotting in the streets, and only a handful of those I find even remotely redeemable would accompany me to a forested island where everyone could subsist off the earth, and leave each other alone.

So, instead of all that, I think I’ll just keep speaking out when things are wrong, unjust, unfair, downright mean, or plain stupid. If you don’t like the whining… I could go get my hatchett.