I know, I know. You're probably saying, "hey Uncle B, why post a diatribe about Valentine's Day 4 days after the fact?" Never you fucking mind that's why. The same reason why I'm going to post my Hanukkah blog in July. Look, if you're in a relationship and happy and had a wonderful VD (hehe) that's fine. I'm happy for you and the person who made the cut of the least annoying to spend the rest of your shitty life with. But enough is enough. I don't want to get off on a rant here but I'm about as fed up with other people and their mediocre relationships as the next guy. I fully understand the need to constantly reaffirm your affection for your partner by telling them (and yourself) that you care for them over and over again. Not like you're trying to convince yourself you didn't make a mistake right? But enough with the public displays and announcements of said affection. You are married. You presumably share a bed. I assume you actually use your mouths to communicate via dialect on a daily basis. So tell me again why you have to post what should be a private term of endearment on a public social media wall so everyone can see it? You know what that sounds like to me? Either a desperate attempt to get your friends and family's approval for your life-changing mistake OR a cry for help because you know a private message of love ain't quite enough for the beast you decided to share the tax breaks with. I'm not saying go social media dark when it comes to major announcements, i.e: marriage, baby, death, but if you're just posting to say hello, do all of us normals a favor and just say it to his/her face as you mumble sadly into your cheerios before cleaning the garage for the 7th time this month because that's the only solace in a home full of constant noise and impending doom. Oh and while we are at it, enough with the fucking workout posts too. We get it, you joined a Cross-Fit cult. You now pay someone to do manual labor while they scream at you. It's like a Slavery Fantasy Camp. So take your private (public) messages of love, your posts about how many times you flipped a tractor tire and your pictures of last night's meatloaf and keep 'em to yourselves. Or maybe I'm just lonely. Bit I digress...
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And the Grammy goes to.... wait, aww shit, here comes Kanye again. Oh, he's joking? That's actually kind of hilarious. Oh wait, he's serious? That dude is an asshole. Look, I actually like Kanye's music. Some of it. I think he should be praised for being honest/sociopathic in a very plastic, dishonest world. But come the fuck on. I don't want to get off on a rant here but someone needs to fix that little fuck's underbite with a boot to the chin. You don't think Beck deserved the Grammy? Fine. Opinions are free and no one should spite you for having one. But stop with the fucking spotlight show. We get it, you have a permanent space underneath the well-sculpted ass of Beyonce. You apparently have this urge to help out the poor girl because the multi-millionaire has no resources herself. Ever wonder why Jay-Z has no fucking time for this midget? It's because he feels about as threatened by Yeezy towards Beyonce as I do by a 7-11 hot dog. I've never met one I can't handle. There's a reason why Shorty McLeatherskirt has never done this at the Source Awards. Or has never done this to Zakk Wylde or anyone who weighs more than a sack of Russet potatoes. I'm not saying calling out Beck and T. Swift is chicken shit but I saw more weight in bacon-wrapped smokies eaten at Super Bowmania than the 2 of them weigh together soaking wet. So take your wife and her ass implants, your kid SouthBySouthEast and just stick to making semi-tolerable music. Or maybe he's right and a genius and I am doing exactly what he wants. Either way, I'm entertained. But I digress...
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AuthorUncle Ben: Archives
November 2016
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