Little sisters/bothers suck.

First-borns unite against the oppression of these low-achieving, babyfied little pests that get away with murder. How many of you are the Oldest? All of you know exactly what I’m talking about. One minute these little idiots are asking for your advice and the next they are screaming in your face they can make their own decisions. The next minute is more fun: please let me “borrow” (which will end of in the coffers of some store in The Mall St. Matthews), but if you ask for 10 bux for lunch you will be constantly be hounded with ‘remember that money I let you borrow?” It’s sickening. We, obviously, have to address the complete unfair and differential treatment you receive at the hands of your parents. Oldest you may as well be the red-headed step child that was adopted because it illegal now-a-days to through an unwanted kid in the forest. I mean if I raised my voice to my parents in any way, shape, or form….well, I’ll invite you to my funeral when it happens. But these little Young Demons can scream, yell, roll their eyes, cluck their tongues and, even point their little young fingers at the parents. And NOTHING happens. Absolutely NOTHING. I’m mean the eyes of the ‘rents just glass over and they begin to drool a little over their “little, precious baby.” We won’t even talk about the extremely LOW expectation/standards they don’t even have to live up to. Oldest you never get credit, appreciation, positive reinforcement, praise or recognition for any thing you do. You know why? ‘Cuz you should have done it. Why should you get a pat on the back for doing your duty (and maybe a little more). It’s abso-!#(&$(-lutely ridiculous how these little ingrates are treated. I need to cool off. I’ll be at Starbucks with a library book and a book of Sudoku puzzles. Join me…..if your little sister/brother has repaid any part of their enormous debt to you.

Ugly people were ugly babies.

I know I’m wrong. Shallow. Mean. Hateful. But it’s true: there are ugly babies. You’ve seen them. You know them. You’re related to them. They’ll grow up and be some of your super- annoying co-workers. Everyone look to your left, now to your right: somebody around you is ugly. They started have that Cro-Magnon brow, the corn-nibblett teeth and the, always disgusting pig like snout of a nose. I’m going to hell. But you know that certain baby that looks like an 80 year old man. Or the one whose nose is so pinched you wonder why they don’t have a mini oxygen tank attached to their bib. Or what about that one that looks constipated all the time. If we accept that there is a left and a right. A white and a black. An up and a down. There has to be an ugly and a cute. Come on now Felicia, you say, “all babies are pretty!” I say “yeah to their parents." Brad Pitt was a pretty baby. Christopher Walken was not. Halle Berry was a pretty baby. Barbara Bush was not. It’s just nature people. I didn’t make the rules. (Of course, I was breath-taking....ask anyone.)

Concentration or Why can't I be rich

I'm sitting in my office and I can't seem to get any work done. I mean I look outside and wonder why I have to sit inside. Outlook beeping and the phone ringing. People dropping by and asking question. I really just want to be home on the couch watching the 500 channels that modern technology has blessed me with. (I just ended a sentence with a preposition. Shoot. Must be all the tv watching.) If I were independently wealth like the wealthiest 1% of the country I could sit around and complain about the estate tax and those damn welfare moms stealing my tax dollars. Or, even better, take another vacation to foreign land or buy another residence. I mean my life would be sweet. I'd still be single and fat, but I could tell the student loan people to bite me. Ok, there are legal things I could be doing, I better do them. (BTW, I'm on my lunch break. I can't even goof off correctly.)

What happened to Lil' Kim's face?

Okay, you will soon learn about me that I ask the obvious questions. Because most people want to seem sophisticated, they don’t ask the simple questions. The questions that no one wants to ask, but everyone is wondering about. There are things going on around us that are totally ignored, because we are too polite to mention them. Perfect example: the comb-over. We pretend that this ridiculous hair-don’t is nothing more than a bad haircut. When it’s really a break from reality, good sense and stylish hair maintenance. Or what about the fat chick with the clothes two sizes too small. Yeah, she’s fun and bubbly (hate that word), but do we really need to see her second stomach? (As a voluptuous woman I can say that.) But we’re all polite and nice. We play ignorant. We don’t notice those people who reek so badly of Marlboro Lights that we can’t even enjoy our 35¢ wings at BW3s. How many times have you looked away when you saw that certain co-worker who teeth are so yellow and brown you swear he’s really British. (No offense to any Brit who may be reading, but really guys: dental care.) I’m going to continue to ask these obvious questions. Who else will? So:

Lil’ Kim when did you wake up and turn into JLo on crack? (Which, incidentally, is a dis too all crack-whores nationwide.) Babygirl, you should have went on Leno to amaze and astound us all. It’s a really cool trick. (Did I tell you I was ornery?)