Recently, thanks to a question I received from one of my internet friends (e-mail me and get in on the fun), I have learned something about myself: I hate people who complain a lot. I don’t know why this is, but I know it’s true. You see, a store clerk from Maine who goes by the name of Buggs (what is it with all these weird internet handles, anyway?) emailed me the following question:
“What is your least favorite kind of person?”
To which I responded, “Complainers.”
And, here’s the thing, to explain why I hate complainers, I would have to actually complain about them. I’m not sure if this is a catch 22, an oxymoron, a redundant statement or one of those negative positives (or whatever). As you can tell, I majored in Creative Writing, which essentially means that I don’t know shit about shit. What can you do?
Nevertheless, no matter how oxymoronic it may be, I am about to embark on the literary equivalent of fighting fire with fire. I’m gonna bitch about the bitchers. Please beware, this may be a stupid entry. Not to cover the same ground twice, but I don’t have a shit clue why the sun rises. I majored in Creative Writing. We all got that, right?
Just checking.
Complainers are the kind of people who blame society for why they can’t get a job while they hardly ever look for one, who bitch incessantly about the level of rudeness in the country and yet never actually talk back to those who are being rude, who buy cars and then bitch about how they can’t believe how much they cost; complainers are the type of people who incessantly whine about their bad backs, as if I look like a motherfucking chiropractor.
Complainers show up on television wanting to know why they can’t figure out who the father of their children are, or why their significant others seem to treat them like shit. They’re the type of people who never think, “Hey, why am I sleeping with everyone and their brother?” Instead they think, “I can’t believe this man won’t be responsible for his child. What an asshole. Someone else should pay for this baby. Even if I don’t know who should be paying.” Complainers bitch about why their men always smack them around, but then never actually leave the fucking men who slap them. Complainers bitch about their current jobs and never look for another one.
In short, complainers are like Justin Rebello’s columns. Only in real life. Scary, I know.
Now, for those of you out there who bitch a lot and may be wondering to themselves, “Well, Nathan, how do I stop being a whiny little bitch?”, I provide the following answer, which is simple and can be explained in three parts: 1st, shut the fuck up. We don’t want to hear it. 2nd, try to take responsibility for your own actions. 3rd, shut the fuck up. It really ain’t all that tricky.
And, since I have just become what I behest by bitching about the bitchers, I will now take responsibility for my own actions and kick my own ass.
And I hope all you whiny fucks get happy.
‘Cause I’m tired of hearing you bitch.