In the mood for a rant? I am.
People who toss their cigarette butts out the window of their car are creeps.
People who drop their cigarette butts on the parking lot are jerks.
People who drop their cigarette butts into flower pots are scum.
People who drop their cigarette butts in someone else’s yard are dirty, dirty people.
To sum up: People who drop their cigarette butts anywhere that is not in their own home or car are inconsiderate boors.
One more thing: Please seal up your house or car thoroughly so your stench does not seep out and further nastify the planet. Also, please bathe – and use a scrubbing brush – before you leave your personal environmental hell-hole. EVERY time. Nothing will ever make you smell presentable, but every little bit helps.
Also? If you are a smoker and you try to hide the rankness by using a quart of perfume, give it up. You’re not fooling anybody, and you still stink. Breath mints don’t hide it, either.
You can throw glitter all over a pile of manure, but it will still be manure and it will still stink.
Also, shame on you. If you’ve ever read a thousand essays by eleven-year-olds about how their parents love their nicotine habit far more than they love their children, maybe you’d be ashamed of yourself enough to at least taper off a bit. Or not. Some smokers don’t love their children as much as they love their cigarettes, and I’ve seen tons of these “people” at conferences. (Can you say “Pee YOU?”) We had to spray down the hallways and the room after these conferences, but at least the parents showed up. Their kids had no socks or warm coats or pencils or gym shoes and were mostly on the school dole as far as books, lunch, breakfast, and before-and-after-school care, but Mom had one open pack and at least two spares in her open purse, there beside the food stamps.
And now for the quiz: How many pairs of little socks can be purchased for the price of a pack of cigarettes?
Check it out; this was written in February of 1993:
“I love my mom but she don’t love me much. how do I know, it’s because if she has to chose between me and her cigs, i don’t have a chance. My dad he sent me cash for my band uniform and mom she found it and drove to Walmart in the middle of the night and spent every dime for cigarets. Know what she said when I found it gone and cried? Sorry, kid, mommy’s gotta have em. Suck it up. then my dad he asked me about band and i told him and he yelled and mom hit me for ratting her out. I want to live with him, mom’s house stinks and is always cloudy with smoke and it makes everytghin in there smell bad incluing me and i hate it and i hate her for not loving me. she just loves her addictoin nothing else. I know she just wants me so she can buy cigs with the money dad sends her for me. I love her too, beside hating her but i know she will alwyas love her smokes more. she cougfs all the time and her voice is scrachy and she would steal for herself i know because she steals from me for herself. Sometimes dad gives me money direct and i hide it and mom serches for it and finds it and screams at me for making her serch and she buys more cigs with it. This makes me real sad all the time. Also i know i smell bad, it’s not my fault, and i wash off at school every day but i know it still stinks. i hate her for making my whole world stink but i love her and i wish she loved me but know she don’t. If she loved me, she’d walk through fire for me but she’d rather smoke it than be inconvenience and that’s how I know she don’t really love me at all. just herself.”
The kid’s right, too.
We called CPS about this but were told they could do nothing because the mother had done nothing actually wrong. Oh really.
One more judgmental heartless rant before I have to go mock some babies who cried because they were hungry and for, to quote my idol Dr. Cox, “. . .packing a load so big I’m seriously considering hiring a stable boy.”
Adults who indulge themselves in any way while denying a child a basic need are complete and total wastes of earth space.
Don’t anyone DARE whine about pity or indulgence for a drug addict on my blog, either. I really don’t care. Life is full of choices, and if someone chooses himself/herself over a child, that someone really doesn’t deserve any pity.
“But I DO love my kids! I can’t help myself, it’s an addiction, an ADDICTION! It’s not my fault, I’m addicted! It’s the cigarette company’s fault, not mine! Don’t blame me! I’m sorry! I just can’t HELP IT!”
Cry me a river.
As the kid’s lovely mom put it, “Suck it up.” You made your bed; now lie in it. And for God’s sake, let someone else have your child. Since you don’t love him enough to take care of him, let someone else do it.
Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly