Remember those children's songs you used to sing when you were a kid? I remember being in elementary school and having a jolly old time singing those cute little songs with my classmates. The alphabet song, "Baa, Baa, Black Sheep," "The Itsy Bitsy Spider,"--they're timeless classics we all learned as kids, and can still sing even though we're well past adulthood.

But if you ever stop and think about the lyrics to these songs, you start to realize that some of them aren't as kid friendly as you'd think. Sure, they sound innocent, but don't let their simple-yet-whimsical tunes fool you. These songs are totally anti-children.

For instance, let's look at the words to "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star." Sure, it seems like a song about some star in the sky...but in reality, the message it's trying to get across is that children are retarded.

You see what I mean?!

And then there's the crappy parent anthem, "Rock-A-Bye Baby":

I used to sing this song thinking it was just about a baby in a tree--which it was. What I didn't know, however, was that the tree baby was in a cradle that was hanging precariously off a rickety-ass bough--which later snaps in the wind, and causes the baby to fall to the ground. This song is a hot freaking mess! I mean, why would you lull a child to sleep with a lullaby about an unwanted baby that ends up doing a face plant into dirt and roots?

And finally, there's that children's song about bells--aptly entitled "The Bells":

Umm...I might have made up the part about the bell being a crackhead with a gambling problem...but you get the idea.

So I had the opportunity to listen in on an awesome conversation while waiting to check out of Trader Joe's. If you're not familiar with Trader Joe's, it's a hippy-run version of Whole Foods. I only go there to buy cheap-yet-super-delicious wine and gummy candies, but I try to avoid making those trips whenever I can because the cashiers are slow. And I mean painfully slow. I was once stuck waiting 20 minutes for a cashier to ring up a woman who only bought 4 items. That process shouldn't have taken more than 5, but the cashier insisted on making small talk about every item in the woman's basket. Like, he would pick up a box of hippy granola and say, "This looks yummy!" and the woman would be all, "OMG! I know," and then the two of them would end up having a discussion about granola. It was like a freaking life sentence.

This recent trip to Trader Joe's was brought on by my addiction to their mango-yogurt gummy candies. I was totally expecting the usual long and arduous check-out process, and called my friends and family to tell them I loved them and might not see them again for a few years. And then I waited in line behind a woman with a half-empty shopping cart and a man who was only buying 3 things. Not that quantity mattered or anything. It wasn't like we were going to be checked out any faster than the old man next to us who had a million things in his cart.

As I was standing in line, the woman in front turned around and started talking to the man behind her. I don't think they knew each other because the guy didn't seem particularly interested, and wasn't responding to anything she said. You keep your mouth shut when someone's trying to chat with you to prevent that person from prolonging a conversation you really don't want to have. I mean, if you're not giving any response, the speaker is going to feel like she's talking a wall and will eventually leave you alone. That, or she will think you're deaf or foreign. It doesn't really matter as long as she shuts up.

Anyway, I was about to write off this woman's small talk as mindless drivel until she said this:

And then this:

I'm guessing the planets and stars and tea leaves were lined up a certain way because my wish to hear details about this woman's E-harmony profile was immediately granted.

OMG! She wrote "I love to laugh" for what I assume was a description of her interests! "I love to laugh"! And let me guess: she listed breathing as one of her hobbies.

This is what I found so damn funny about it: Everyone enjoys a good laugh. Everyone. People laugh (and I mean genuinely) when they're happy--and who hates being happy? No one. And no one on E-harmony or whatever is going to look at this woman's profile and think, "Whew! I am so glad she wrote that she loves laughing because I can't stand that sh*t. Dodged a bullet there!"

The woman then said:

Taking walks on the beach? Staring at sunsets? She should have just said "I like dating-profile clichés," because that alone would have been enough to summarize this woman's entire romance portfolio.

But to be honest, my amusement might have been based on personal bias: I hate the beach, and viewing sunsets sounds boring as hell. In fact, I would actually have a hard time deciding which is worse: Sitting through a Dane Cook comedy show that has Criss Angel doing magic at the same time, or walking on the beach and watching the sun go down. Both seem extremely unpleasant and douchie.

As if my life sentence of waiting to check out of Trader Joe's couldn't get any better, the woman then drops the most ridiculous line ever:

At that point, I didn't even bother hiding my pee-my-pants giggles anymore because there is no way she could have expected anyone within earshot to keep a straight face after hearing all of that. Even the guy who totally didn't give a sh*t couldn't keep his face together.

Trader Joe's rules.

I have a list of sh*t I think people need to keep to themselves. I don't mean stuff like the story of how you got explosive diarrhea after eating semi-raw chicken. People need to know those things! How else will they know how important it is the thoroughly cook chicken?!

Actually, the sh*t I'm talking about is real sh*t that you should never spread around to anyone unless you want an acid enema. It's stuff you know the speaker is telling you because he means well, but it ends up coming off as stuffy and, well, sh*tty.

1. Living a Healthy Lifestyle

This is on my list of sh*t you should keep to yourself for purely selfish reasons. I'll be the first to admit that my dietary habits are pretty crappy. A good 80% of what I eat consists of things that are full of sugar and high in calories. I love foods that are fried and smothered in cheese. My kitchen always has more chips and candy than fruits and vegetables. I wash everything down with diet soda--but at least it's diet, right?

I know the toll these foods have on my health, and have begrudgingly embraced moderation, balanced nutrition, and regular exercise over the years. Junk food, however, is still very much a part of my daily intake. It's just that now I'm doing whatever I need to do to stay healthy despite my indulgences--but that is the most I'm willing to do. If you decide to go above and beyond that, great. Go for it. I have nothing but respect for people who can make that kind of commitment even though it's not for me.

But some of those who've had the healthy-living epiphany seem to think that if they've made the decision, everyone else should too. Don't eat that popcorn chicken pizza, all covered with ranch dressing and gravy! That's really bad for you! You should eat carrot and celery sticks lightly sprayed with Pam instead! And then they get all expert on your ass because they think reading a bunch of nutrition labels makes them dietary gurus.

Decided to start healthy living? Congratulations! Now keep that sh*t to yourself.

2. Superstitions

If you're superstitious about something--fine. You can go ahead and avoid certain numbers, breaking mirrors, walking under ladders, and all that other stuff to your heart's content. Who am I to stop you from doing whatever you need to do to convince yourself that you are in control of your life, you know? I don't really care one way or another as long you keep whatever it is you do to ward off bad luck and negativity to yourself. So if you think farting against the wind will bring a curse on your household, then go ahead and fart with the wind. That kind of stuff only becomes an issue when you give me sh*t for farting against the wind because now I have to conform my farting to your superstitions. And why the hell should I do that? I don't derive any benefit from wind-directional farting. That's your thing! All I get out of it is an uncomfortable tightness from holding in all that ass gas.

And what about the billions of superstitions out there that you've never even heard of, and are therefore not following? You don't seem to be crippled with bad luck even though you're probably breaking a hundred superstitions every second.

Unless you can point out the times in your life when failing to follow through on a superstition caused you to experience some kind of hardship or turmoil, your superstitions will remain on the list of sh*t you should keep to yourself. And no, telling me something like, "Uh, I ate chicken on March 15th and then two weeks later I broke my wrist playing flag football" is not going to cut it.

3. Cancer Anxiety

Finally, the sh*t that started it all:

I've pretty much accepted that everything in the world can cause cancer. Even the things that are supposed to help decrease the risk of cancer can cause cancer. I recently read a report that found drinking alcohol could increase a woman's risk of getting breast cancer--but then I got all confused because there was another article which said red wine could help decrease the risk of breast cancer. Uhh...okay.

One thing I like to keep in mind with these studies is that they usually end the same way: the results show a possible link between X and cancer. Possible, not definitive. But some people read these studies and think, "OMG! Cell phones totally cause brain cancer!" when there is nothing in the text to suggest anything more than "we will probably need to do additional research." And then they go nuts buying all the hands-free sets they can find, while at the same time telling everyone who isn't using one that a tumor is growing in their heads.

You know...until researchers get as close to finding a connection like they did with cigarettes and lung cancer, I'm going to keep putting my cell phone to my ear, drinking diet soda, and eating my blackened chicken Caesar salad. Freaking out over whatever risk probably causes cancer anyway, so keep that sh*t to yourself!

I'm not really into the watch-strangers-live-together genre of reality television because I think the format has gotten stale and raggedy over the years. Oooh...let's get a bunch of people from all walks of stereotypes into a fancy house and see how they deal with each other. That sh*t hasn't been fresh since the first "Real World" premiered in 1992.

Oxygen's "Bad Girls Club" is pretty much the same way, and I find it about as exciting as eating an old-ass diaper. And yet, if I happen catch an episode while flipping channels, I have to watch it because I am obsessed with trying to figure out what the point of the show is. Have you ever watched an episode before? It's just a bunch of really loud girls with drinking problems and bad tempers living together as roommates. Every single season can be boiled down to a simple formula:

A group of girls who already know they hate each other even before they've introduced themselves.

There will always be at least two girls who are from the same state, but who hate each other because they have way too much county pride.

No matter how much animosity exists, the girls will manage to put their differences aside for the sake of getting really wasted before, during, and after a trip to a local club.

But the alcohol inhibits their common sense and what little human decency they have, causing the girls to start beating each other up over strange things like being called a b*tch even though they call themselves b*tches all the time...

There are lots of fights over phone usage too. You get a lot of action scenes spliced together with talking-head segments whenever that sh*t goes down...

Action Scene:

Talking-Head Segment:

More Action Scenes:

Another Talking-Head Segment:

And that's pretty much it. That is the formula for a successful multi-season reality show: a group of girls who repeat words like "classy" and "b*tch" every time they open their mouths, and then beat and cuss the crap out of each other. I don't understand where the entertainment value comes in!

Happy New Year!

I was at the mall when I got a call from work. I had to take notes during the conversation, so I grabbed a napkin and sat down at one of the tables near the food court.

You probably don't need me to tell you this, but napkins aren't meant to be written on. And napkin + sharp-tipped pen + slatted table = being unable to read what you'd written down because the damn napkin is full of holes.

Anyway, while I was busy trying to write stuff down, I noticed this high school kid standing right in front of me.

Uhh...okay. Did this kid need directions to PacSun to get more skateboarding clothes? Because you know he shops there. They all do...and by the way, spending a ton of money on clothes that look kind of sh*tty doesn't make much sense to me. I mean, this is the entire look:

Skateboarders don't care about fashion! This is a laid-back outfit for laid-back skater people!

And then they go to PacSun or Tilly's or whatever and spend hundreds of dollars on grungy T-shirts, caps, black shoes, and corduroy pants or khakis. But they're still keeping it real because what's more laid-back than buying all your clothes from one store?

I looked at this kid thinking he was going to ask me for directions or the time, but he instead said:

I didn't even try to keep "who the f*ck are you?!" from showing up all over my face. That's exactly what I would have said if I wasn't on the phone--but I was. I was on the phone--as in, this douchie kid was asking to use my phone while I was still using it. That alone should have been enough to tell him he was better off asking some other complete stranger. I mean, what response what he expecting?

So not happening.

Rather than give him any sort of response, I went back to taking napkin notes and acting as if he wasn't there. And while I might have looked like I didn't care, that wasn't the case at all because I was actually trying to strike his ass down with the "go f*ck yourself" energy bolts I was angrily emitting.

And you know what? He just stood there! Like, he was waiting for me to get off the phone and hand it to him!

The kid eventually left after standing there like a dumbass for a few minutes...but not without letting me know of his disappointment.

He's going to get struck by a "go f*ck yourself" energy bolt eventually. I just know it.

My old excuse for avoiding Black Friday sales:

My new excuse for avoiding Black Friday sales:

I might have inadvertently stomped on a guy's nuts...I'm not really sure how it happened, so I'm hoping someone can enlighten me.

I was meeting up with some friends for dinner one night, and ended up at the restaurant a bit early. I couldn't get a table because the place had a policy of not seating groups until all members were present, so I went to the little lounge area to wait for my friends. As I was sitting around, the greeter guy ("Greeter Guy") came up to me and asked:

To which I replied:

Greeter Guy then left to go take care of a few customers. Three minutes later, he returned and asked:

I again told him "no," but instead of leaving it at that, Greeter Guy started naming specific beverages and asking me if wanted any of them:

GREETER GUY: Would you like some green tea?

ME: No, thank you.

GREETER GUY: How about some Asahi?

ME: No, thank you.

GREETER GUY: What about some flavored sake?

ME: No, thank you.

GREETER GUY: Plum wine?

ME: No...

I don't know if Greeter Guy had to meet some kind of beverage quota or what, but he was having a difficult time accepting that I really didn't want anything to drink, and it was starting to annoy me. I know he was probably just doing his job, but his apparent passion for customer service was turning into pushiness. So finally, I told him:

Greeter Guy's "Okay then" was said with that don't-say-I-didn't-warn-you tone...as if I were, like, some kind of mutant freak for not wanting anything to drink. But he left, so whatever.

One of my friends showed up soon after, and the other two were just a few minutes away. I decided to take that brief moment to go wash my hands before dinner. The restrooms were located down a small hallway, past the kitchen entrance. The entrance was covered by one of those Asian door-curtain things, so I couldn't see the people working in there. I could, however, hear them talking, and I managed to catch a bit of their conversation as I made my way to the women's room.

"Not right now?" Isn't that what I said to Greeter Guy to make him stop bothering me?

...Nah, that person b*tchin' in the kitchen couldn't have been Greeter Guy. Why would he make such a big deal out of me not wanting anything to drink? He must hear that all the time! It must be someone else talking about something that coincidentally involves drinks and getting "Not right now" as a response. I bet one of the chefs was just complaining about getting rejected by a chick he tried to hit on in a club.

I washed my hands and went back to the lounge. By then, the rest of my friends had arrived and Greeter Guy took us to our table. As I sat down, he asked me:

OMG, sour grapes! It was Greeter Guy who was b*tchin' in the kitchen!

I opened my mouth to call him out on what I heard him say on my way to the bathroom, but I couldn't get the words out. There was a good chance I was wrong. I mean, why would this guy be offended when a customer declines service? Everyone knows that when a restaurant employee asks "Can I get you anything to drink," it's not because he really cares if you're thirsty. No, he's asking such questions because he has to. It's a food-service norm that is practiced millions of times a day, by millions of people around the world. And you can't tell me that every answer is "yes." There is a 50/50 percent chance that the customer is not going to want anything--and what's so offensive about that?

But deep down, I knew the guy in the kitchen was Greeter Guy and I knew he was complaining about me. But I still couldn't risk the embarrassment of being wrong, so I just said:

And then he left and ignored my friends and me the rest of the evening.

I honestly don't understand what was so wrong about not wanting a drink. It wasn't like I was turning down a cocktail he had paid for; that tab was on me. He was just the person who'd be physically handing me the glass. So I have no idea where he got that rejection sh*t, or why he acted as if I'd stomped on his nuts. But I'll own up to it if I was actually the one who was the social retard. I would just like to know why.

I know it's a little late for me to be commenting on that story about the couple who was arrested for failing to pay for $5-worth of sandwiches, but I'm going to jump into the discussion anyway because (1) this happened in Hawaii, my home state; (2) I've been to that particular Safeway a number of times; and (3) the story really pissed me off. Like, really pissed me off...

In case you weren't familiar with the details, I have drawn them out for you with help from my cats and MS Paint.

Okay, so Husband, Wife, and Daughter take a bus to get some groceries, get lost, and end up at a supermarket called Safeway. I'm not really sure what happened next because several articles had reported the facts differently: one article stated Wife got dizzy and went to Safeway to get something to eat, another said she and her family were already shopping when she started feeling ill. But whatever. Wife starts feeling dizzy, and decides she needs to eat something.

Wife sees some pre-made sandwiches in the store and starts eating one. And here's where things start looking stanky to me:

For some reason, Husband decides he will also eat a sandwich even though he apparently isn't sick or dizzy like Wife is. What the f*ck #1.

Husband and Wife eat the sandwiches as they continue their grocery shopping. When they are done, they put the wrappers into the cart because--as they have since claimed--they intended to pay for the sandwiches when they checked out.

Husband and Wife take their cart to a check-out stand and pay for about $50 worth of groceries.

I'm guessing the cashier didn't see the empty wrappers in the cart or something because the $50 bill did not include the two sandwiches the couple had eaten minutes earlier. And neither Husband nor Wife made any mention of this oversight until a security guard stopped them as they were leaving Safeway.

And this was where I really lost it: both Husband and Wife forgot to pay for the sandwiches. Both. Did they also forget that they'd eaten the sandwiches minutes earlier? I'm assuming the answer is "yes" because I can't imagine how you could remember eating something you didn't pay for, but then later forget to pay. It's beyond ridiculous, and I'm not buying it. I mean, I'm willing to give Wife a pass for forgetting because she wasn't feeling well when she ate her sandwich--but the pass comes begrudgingly. She says she didn't remember because things were hectic and she was dizzy, but how come she was still able to walk around and buy groceries while eating at the same time? It's shady as hell.

But let's give Wife the benefit of the doubt and say she genuinely forgot to pay for the sandwiches because she was suffering through a mental tornado. What's Husband's excuse for not paying? He can't even explain why he ate a sandwich! He clearly didn't forget to pay, and chose not to bring it up when he checked out. He probably just kept his mouth shut to see if he and Wife could get away with not paying for something they consumed. What the f*ck #2.

Of course, we all know how it all played out: Husband and Wife were arrested, and Daughter stayed in foster care for, like, 18 hours. And then the story ended up all over the national news (although, oddly enough, it didn't get very much attention from Hawaii's media) and people started giving Safeway crap because they read "child custody" and sh*t themselves.

The anti-Safeway crowd is acting on emotion rather than substance. In their minds, losing temporary custody of one's child is punishment that does not fit the crime of stealing $5-worth of sandwiches. But it's not about the paltry sum of money; it's the principle. When you go into that particular Safeway, there is a sign that says something like, "We will prosecute all shoplifters." It doesn't say "We will only prosecute shoplifters who don't have children," or "We will only prosecute shoplifters who steal $100 worth of stuff." It says "We will prosecute all shoplifters." That language lets you know that a guy who steals something that costs $1 will be treated the same was as someone who steals an item that costs $100.

Everyone knows that shoplifting is a crime, and that doesn't change just because the shoplifter has kids. The anti-Safeway people don't see it that way because they are blinded by the baby factor--but what happens when you take the child out of the equation? What if Husband and Wife didn't have a kid to begin with? Suddenly they start looking less like persecuted innocents and more like what? Shoplifters. And they deserved to be arrested.

And yet, Safeway ends up apologizing to Husband and Wife because of all the bad press they'd been getting as a result. Safeway shouldn't have apologized. They didn't do anything wrong. They caught Husband and Wife trying to steal, and called the police. Isn't that what people do when they catch someone trying to steal their stuff? But how come Safeway is forced to say "We're sorry we called the police after you tried to get away with not paying for the sandwiches you ate"? What the f*ck #3.

Why are people getting mad at Safeway for Husband and Wife's child getting taken away in the first place? It wasn't like they did this:

Safeway didn't have any say in whether Child Protective Services took the child. After all, when you call the police on someone, you don't get to determine how the person is dealt with. That's a decision the responding officer makes, not the person reporting the crime. If it were otherwise, then I wouldn't have let that girl who plowed into my car just pay me off for her sh*tty driving. I would have instead been like, "I want this b*tch taken to a North Korean labor camp where she can spend the rest of her life pounding pebbles!"

Seriously, man...What. The. F*ck.