The FML Monologues

Nov 3

FML

Me: “Hey Dad,”

Dad: “Sorry, me no speak no english.”

-______-

This is V56GU7 portable W3 transmitting an update from the Capital Front. This is an encrypted message. Code Niner Alpha Tango. Begin encrypted transmission.

Greens got us locked down in Northeast quadrant of city. Supply routes unhampered. Moral high. Waiting resupply of water, 20 palettes, and ammunition, 35 palettes. Rumors of General Romero’s capture are false. The General is with us and preparing for next offense. Abby sympathizers have managed to give us location and fortifications for next target. Strike date set for Monday, November 3rd, 2032. We will strike a great blow against the Greens. Additional personnel at location One Zero Beta Cappa requested for follow-on. Use Caradhras, path verified clear.

The General would like to address Presidential Edict 35B: Anchorbaby Support Separation Act aimed at establishing internment camps for all Mexican Americans, Abby or Wet. Although Abby and Abby sympathizers do not associate with any Wets, Naturalized or Illegal, we must not turn a blind eye to their plight as they are the ones who brought us here. Installations should be attacked and liberated as time and resources permit. Civilian casualties should be kept to minimum. Only take in Wets willing to fight for cause. Please be advised that not all Wets would be amenable to your actions. Wets don’t understand our Prime Directive. You are permitted to use force against Wets that attack you.

I can tell you the story about my own father. He refused to comply with Prime Directive despite bringing my mother into this country to birth me as per President Calderón’s orders. He did not assimilate into American society. Did not learn how to pass off as Red Blood. When Prime Directive came down from President Ruiz, my father begged me to ignore orders. Said times have changed. Operation: Anchor Baby was a plan hatched by a madman over 25 years ago. I told him, In English, that he is a traitor to our Country and that if he refuses to come with me to FOB Alamo he would be killed since he knows too much about our operations. My father looked into my eyes and with nothing but spite and hatred he responded, ‘Sorry, me no speak English.’ I told my father goodbye, and shot him twice in the heart, once in the head.

My original reaction was, ‘FML.’ But now here we are, on the cusp of victory. The Southern Forces are making great headway, have already annexed Texas and parts of Southern California. If we take the capital, this war is over. All of the, ‘Si Señor’ pretend time will be a thing of the past. The United States will no longer exist, the Great Diablo will crumble, and we will be able to take their jobs, their rights, and their dignity as they have done to use for more than a century.

It is hard to say ‘FML’ when we are on the verge of victory. Remember that, my brothers, and let no-one, Green, Wet, Red Blood, or even Abby, stand in our way.

V56GU7 portable W3 ending transmission. Over.

Nov 2

she's frequently kind and she's suddenly cruel: voting.

fracturedwords:

guess what? i’m not registered to vote. OH NOES. and who’s fault is that? the people that run the fucking voting booths and elections and the people who sort paperwork. you fucked up my vote for Kerry when Bush was running after i waited THREE HOURS to register/fill out an absentee. so guess what politics? you get no love from me and i ain’t doing it again. this is where my brilliant cynicism comes into play, and i think i’ll leave you all with my husband’s facebook status update from last night:

Tomorrow be sure to pretend that you live in a democracy, and get yourself that hour or two off of work!

amen.

People say that I have a hard time letting things go and, when they say that, it puts me in a bad mood for close to a decade. Do you know how hard that is? Every time someone says I can’t let something go, my bad mood increases by ten years. TEN YEARS! As of right now, my bad mood will last for the next 3,240 years. That’s a lot of years. And is that my fault? Of course not. It’s the people’s fault. The ones that say I can’t let things go.

To further complicate the situation, there’s the fact that I simply can’t let things go. Like this one time, right? I was driving around, drinking, having a good time. The car in front of me totally slowed down and hit me from the front. The impact from hitting my front bumper caused the car to flip over and injured some of the people inside which, you know, they deserved that so good. But I spilled my beer all over my lap and even got some on my iPod which, thankfully, wasn’t damaged but it could have been. That asshole added about fifteen years to my perpetual bad mood.

Can you imagine living a life like that? It’s hard.

Now, I’m not looking for your sympathy. I really don’t care what you or anyone else thinks. I mean, seriously, I straight-up do not give a FUCK about what you think. Unless you think I have a hard time letting go. Because, if you think that, it effects my life and my future.

So, I’m not voting today. Big deal. Just leave me alone. Something happened six years ago and when you do the math I’ll forget about it in sixth millennium. Believe me, if what happened to me happened to you, you’d stop voting as well. Or you’d say, ‘It wasn’t that bad, why don’t you just let go?’ and we already know where that gets me. Do you really want to be responsible for another ten years of my bad mood? Believe me, just take your six or eight or twenty years of shit that you could get when people like me don’t vote, because you don’t want my bad mood on your conscience.

Color My Soul: Don't pressure people into going to vote.

colormysoul:

YOU go vote rather than sitting around posting about other people needing to go vote. To vote is a right but it’s a personal choice. You don’t have to vote, you should, but you don’t have to. If someone on Tumblr or any other site has to post something that makes you go out and vote due to guilt, you’re not helping the system. To go cast a vote, aimlessly with no knowledge of the candidates just increases the chances of putting an irresponsible and ineffective person into office. If you’re going to the polls, and just choosing any person on the ballot, and casting a vote because you want to feel included on election day … you’re not helping.

If you feel it’s important to vote, great, go vote. But, don’t pressure people into going vote and then be surprised when your state is being led by a worthless politician that was elected by people who just chose a name on the ballot and voted.

My mother always told me, ‘If you can’t take the heat, just pretend that heat doesn’t exist.’ It’s sounds advice, really. You may get burned a bit, spend a couple of hours in the hospital, but at least it’s better than having to deal with heat. I mean…you still have to deal with heat as in, ‘Oh, now I’m burned, I better deal with this,’ but not as in, ‘Oh, this heat will burn me.’

And isn’t it better not knowing that heat will burn you?

Of course it is, don’t be ridiculous. Look, if you go through life thinking heat won’t burn you, you can always pretend that burns aren’t your fault. Because, at the end of the day, we’re all going to get burned at least once. Would you rather be the dumbass that says, ‘Yeah, I knew what would happen if I touched that hot pot with my bare hands,’ or the person who says, ‘What’s heat?’

Why would we rather take responsibility for our actions? It’s too much work, after all. Too many things in this world to worry about than to worry about whether or not heat will hurt you. Let other people worry about that, like doctors. This way, when you go to a doctor and say, ‘Hey, doc, I have this painful thing on my hand,’ the doctor can say, ‘That’s because you touched heat, and heat hurts you.’ It’s the doctor’s problem now, not your’s.

This theory really works for everything. Sure, a kid getting into a stranger’s van could lead to bad things, but what if the kid didn’t know what strangers were? Hey, look at that, you’re still a good parent! And, of course, you can’t feed a dog rat poison but what if you didn’t know rat poison could kill a dog? Natural causes! And, as we all know, politicians can make horrible decisions, but if you don’t know about those decisions they simply cannot hurt you.

Ignorance isn’t just bliss, it’s fabulous.

I’m never going to vote in my life

diamondsanddachshunds:

Regardless of who you vote for there’s still going to be a pile of broken promises and corruption. Either way you’re screwed.

Everyone knows where they were when the robots attacked. It’s one of those things. If you were alive on November 22nd, 1963, you can say exactly where you were and what you were doing when Kennedy was assassinated. You know what you were doing on January 28th, 1986 when the Challenger crashed. Same for September 11th, 2001. These are milestones in modern history, but they all seem so…small compared to the robots.

I remember where I was. I was at home, watching GLEE. I remember the light; that fire in the sky. The screams and the dead. The robots marching down the street. Their lasers burning holes through people who were on their knees, begging for their lives. In a way I was one of the lucky ones but only to the extent that I survived. But what is life even worth these days? Spending your days and nights in a camp, eating gruel, working for the robots. I think about my friends and family that didn’t make it and I realize how lucky they were. I can’t help but think that they were rewarded. That maybe this is my punishment for not caring until it was too late.

I figured these politicians were all the same. Sure, one side seemed to only be interested in pushing the military-industrial complex while screwing over the lower and middle classes while the other side wanted to look out for their fellow man and empower those that were unable to fight for themselves. But they were still THE SAME, right? Feeding us a line. Bureaucrats just looking for votes. Looking for a job.

So I didn’t vote. The one side, the aggressive side…they preyed on the fear of the masses and built a powerful but ignorant base. Kept convincing them that everything’s wrong even though they were the ones that were fucking everything up. The other side…well, they just lost, and all the wrong things got bigger. Our military, our debt, our environmental problems…it just got bigger and bigger and still I looked at it and said, “They’re all the same. Nothing will change.”

And then it got too big. Got out of control. The robots turned on their designers and then the world and, well, now here we are.

And the worst part is? The robots cancelled GLEE.

The FML Monologues: I'm not voting today because I am lazy and I realize that is bad. Sue me.

gotmilkplus:

thefmlmonologues:

What a rush! You know, when I told my wife that I was going to run for the Senate she looked at me like I was crazy. ‘Why would you want to do that to yourself?’ she asked me. ‘Think about the press,’ she warned me, ‘They’ll eat us alive.’ I remember…I remember sitting at the kitchen table with my…

Fuck you.

I expect you’ll be serving me with a court order soon. I did say “sue me” not “write a manifesto.”

…..

Robert F. Jenkings, ESQ

The Law Offices of The FML Monologues

8000 E 86th St

Washington DC, 20000

(555) 555-5555

The FML Monologues, Plaintiff

gotmilkplus, Defendant

Complaint For:

1) Neglecting Civic Duty

2) Being Lazy

3) Inability to Defend One’s Position

DEMAND FOR TRIAL JURY

Plaintiff The FML Monologues for his Complaint against Defendant gotmilkplus, alleges as follows:

JURISDICTION AND VENUE

1) Plaintiff is informed and believes, and on the basis of that information and belief, that Defendant has a civic duty to vote.

2) Despite the fact that the Court does not have jurisdiction over Defendant and her desire not to vote, Plaintiff is still serving this Court Order because Plaintiff, much like Defendant, does not know what courts are used for.

General Allegations

1) On November 2nd, 2010, Defendent posted on her Tumblr blog that she had no plans to vote out of laziness.

2) Plaintiff did a search on “voting” and, in keeping with the spirit of his own Tumblr blog, reblogged Defendants post and wrote monologue inspired by Defendant’s declaration that she won’t vote. Plaintiff plans on doing this throughout the course of the day.

3) Plaintiff understands that he normally reblogs people who use the FML tag on Tumblr, but Plaintiff believes individuals who don’t vote are, in fact, F’ing Plaintiff’s life along with the lives of other citizens.

4) Defendant saw the reblog and was upset and attempted to increase the level of public discourse in our society by reblogging with a “Fuck You.” Defendant also solicited Plaintiff for a lawsuit.

5) Plaintiff accepted solicitation and hereby demands the sum of one-million (1,000,000) dollars in punitive damages. Additionally, Plaintiff believes defendant should stop being so lazy.

PLAINTIFF HEREBY DEMANDS TRIAL BY JURY

(via gotmolokoplus)

I’m not voting today because I am lazy and I realize that is bad. Sue me.

What a rush! You know, when I told my wife that I was going to run for the Senate she looked at me like I was crazy. ‘Why would you want to do that to yourself?’ she asked me. ‘Think about the press,’ she warned me, ‘They’ll eat us alive.’ I remember…I remember sitting at the kitchen table with my wife and my two beautiful children and she said to me, ‘Think about our family,’ and I said to her…well, here’s what I said…

‘Honey, I am thinking about our family. Not just our family. I’m thinking about everybody’s family. I’m thinking about how…you know, how Washington shouldn’t be telling our families how to run our lives. They shouldn’t be allowed to tell us, Hey, homosexuals…they can be families too. Or, Hey, you should be allowed to kill a member of your family because he’s, you know…he’s not REALLY alive yet. Washington…heh, thank you, I love you, too…Washington shouldn’t be allowed to take away the guns we need to protect our families or mortgage our children’s future with this…this Obamacare thing. Washington, you know, Washington should just let Washington be Washington and let Main Street be Main Street.’

I told my wife this and she looked me right in the eyes and said, ‘Do it.’ And now here I am, and I have you people to thank.

Not just you, of course. I prayed every night, asked God if I should run and God told me, ‘Yes. Washington needs you to help remind the folks out there that America is a Christian Nation.’ God…he kept me strong through all this. Showed me signs all the time. People dying, families struggling…he showed me these things in order to give me the resolve I needed to get through the election.

So I gotta thank you and I gotta thank God. And his son, of course. Heh…I wouldn’t leave him out.

But I also gotta thank the people who were too lazy to come out and vote. If it weren’t for them, who knows? Maybe I would have lost this thing. And then where would we be? In Nazi Germany, most likely. Communist Russia. We’d be on bread lines and rounding up people who are for American and Christian ideals, that’s where we’d be. But now look at us! We’re one step closer to bringing Christ back to this Country. And I’m going to make sure your voices are heard…you, God, and the lazy people who didn’t vote…because, darn it, it’s about time someone listened to us.

So thank you again and have a great night! There’re brighter days in our future!

Nov 1

this is what i feel towards my cat right now.

heythereimmaegen:

This is Arcimeowies, human handle Whiskers, reporting results of latest experiment. I began with a simple hypothesis: Human’s do not like it when they find feces in their laundry pile. This experiment was conducted as part of ongoing research to discover absolute breaking point of human species so as to launch The Final Offensive. Subject was female, 21 years old. Subject was having a particularly bad day pertaining to weather, math test, and other general grievances for species.

Materials: Laundry pile and feces. Laundry pile was sufficiently high so as to hide feces in center. Laundry pile consisted of: 1) pants, 6 pairs, 2) shirts, 13, 3) socks, 15 pairs and one unpaired, 4) underwear, 13 pairs. Pile contained subject’s favorite t-shirt, novelty design, text reading, ‘I love candy,’ picture of tooth. Feces was extracted from experimenter and flung into pile. Dinner consisted of herring and dry food. Feces was moist.

Observations: Subject went to do laundry at 7:54PM on a Tuesday evening. Subject began to move laundry from pile into washing machine when hand made direct contact with feces. It took subject four seconds to realize what substance was. Subject had to bring hand to nose to verify feces. Some feces stayed on Subject’s nose. Subject let out an audible scream of frustration, washed off hands and nose, and screamed, ‘Bad kitty!’ Subject threatened to not give Experimenter dinner that night but after one hour, Subject calmed down enough to feed Experimenter.

Subject called Subject’s boyfriend and relayed results from experiment to him in an humorous fashion. Subject’s boyfriend was heard laughing on phone, asked to come over. Subject spent night in bedroom with Subject’s boyfriend having sexual relations. Subject seemed to have forgot about experiment by next morning.

Results: I conclude that placing feces in laundry pile does not cause significant mental imbalance. Duration is too short to induce mass suicide across species. Sex can play role in reestablishing mental baseline. I did notice increased discomfort levels at the thought of feces being on or near the face. I am designing a new set of experiments aimed at getting cat feces into Subject’s mouth. Difficult to pull off, however, as Subject will likely smell feces before it enters Subject’s mouth. Likely best mode of entry is to defecate in Subject’s mouth while sleeping. Feynmeow, et. al. (Journal of Toxicatagy, 2009) has attempted experiment but was only on dry food at the time. I will try to duplicate Feynmeow’s experiment with wet food diet and observe results. Hypothesis: Experiment will lead to more than “FML” post on Subject’s Tumblr account.

Oct 28

Last night I dreamt I forgot to read the ballot properly

ladyvader:

and voted “unsure” on Prop 19.

FML.

~~can you even vote unsure?~~

Whatever, man. Whatever.

I mean…it’s like this, right? What if we’re all…I don’t know…what if, like, this Prop 19 is all some kind of attempt by someone, you know, like the government, to hunt down dope smokers, you know? Like, they got these secret agents at the schools and shit and these guys are totally narcing the joint, you know? Like pulling you to the side and asking you shit like, ‘You been smoking pot, kid?’

You gotta think about these things. Do you honestly, like, think the government is just gonna let you smoke weed? Like they’re gonna set up some kind of Board of Weed and make suggestions on how to grow it and roll it and even smoke it? Of course they won’t, man. They’ll just use that shit to trap you. Like you call up some weed hotline and ask where you can score some sweet government kush and ten seconds later you got DEA, CIA, FBI, ATF, RIAA, triple-A - just everybody banging down your door and locking you up.

Don’t think that can’t happen. It can totally happen.

But even if that doesn’t happen, what’ll happen to the weed, man? The government stuff’s gonna be total skunk. You’ll start seeing Weed Light and low-THC weed and all of these totally whack varieties that you try to avoid everyday, you know? And then I’m gonna have to go and get my cheeba some guy who’s selling the good stuff illegally and I’m still a fucking criminal.

Totally.

So I was totally thinking about this stuff last night and I went to sleep and I had a dream about how the ballot had an ‘unsure’ vote for Prop 19 and I totally looked at it and said, ‘Fuck yeah.’ Because that shit is real, right there. We listen to all these commercials and all these signals and we’re all, like, ‘Dude, smoking dope in the park without the fuzz harassing me would be totally sweet,’ but all we’re doing is buying the corporate line, man. That’s all it is, man. Corporations. And the government. So, yeah, if there was an ‘unsure’ vote I’d totally click it. Ask them to follow-up with me when I see how the shit goes down. If it looks good, sure, I’ll support it. Totally. But if it looks even a little sketch I’d just be like, ‘Nah, man. I’m cool.’

We should be able to change our vote a couple of months after shit’s going down. Ain’t that what democracy is? Like, real democracy. One where we can actually change our minds. Because, you know, I’m not going to be the same person tomorrow that I am today. I’m gonna evolve, man. We evolve everyday. So why would I want to say, ‘Yes, I support this shit,’ and then just get stuck with it for life.

Life’s too long to get stuck with bad decisions, man. If I go to a buffet and pick up some kung-pao beef but the kung-pao beef is all dry and shit, I can go back to the buffet and get some fried chicken. That’s what democracy should be, man. A buffet. I should be able to go back to the line and say, ‘Nope! I wanted fried chicken all along.’

Fuck…fried chicken sounds so good right now. Everything’s closed, tho. FML.

Oct 27

I know FML is so 2009 but…

bestrooftalkever:

I was talking to a friend today and this is how our conversation went:

Friend: So.

Me: So.

Friend: One of my bosses just found out that his daughter is diabetic and they had to take her to the hospital.

Me: Ouch. That is sad.

Friend: Right. And I just sent them a gift box which was full of candy. FML.

Me: I really want to blog that. Can I?

Friend: Sure. Just don’t use my name.

The girl never had a chance. She didn’t get the lesson on blood sugar and insulin yet. Hell, I doubt she even knew why she was in the hospital. The poor girl’s father was still asking nurses how he talks about this. How does he tell his little girl that no kids gonna want to come to her birthday parties anymore because there won’t be any chocolate cake? It’ll just be him, the wife, and the kid. Sitting around a potato cake. With candles in it. Blow them out, kid. Wish for an easier life.

So when this girl woke up and found the chocolates by the side of her bed she didn’t think nothing of eating them. Truffles. Chocolate covered pretzels. I’m not a fan of the fruit flavored ones but it looks like the kid had no problem putting them down. The only one she skipped was the marshmallow one. I don’t think she skipped it because she didn’t like marshmallow, tho. By the looks of it, this kid would eat chocolate covered rocks. No, I’d say that by the time she got to the marshmallow one she was already in her coma. Poor kid. Probably looking at that last chocolate and saying, ‘Just one more.’ Eyes shutting. Her little hand trying to grab hold but it ain’t even moving. It’s already dead. It’s somewhere, wherever’s next, waiting for the rest of its body to meet it. The rest of the body came along in due time, and that’s why I’m here.

I know the father. Good guy, as far as his kind goes. Doesn’t bust a head that doesn’t need busting, keeps everything quiet and clean. Old school. Suit and tie guy. Has a purpose. He never went for all the ‘no snitch’ stuff. If someone did something that shouldn’t be done, it was his duty to make sure the guy paid. That’s just the way he is, and no-one’s dumb enough to come after him, so he gets to stick to it. He helped me on a lot of cases and he trusts me more than the cops so I offered to help him because someone should help him.

This is a tough one, tho. It almost feels planned out, like someone knew the girl had diabetes before the father and the girl knew. Inside angle? Her pediatrician, maybe? Maybe someone that works at the pediatrician’s office? Did the nurse bring them in and, if so, why didn’t she read the girl’s chart? Is she in on it, too? The time frame’s real small - only the father and the doctors knew. He called up his assistant to get the word out that he’ll be in the background for a couple of days but I doubt the assistant would try and pull something like this. I mean, why hit the girl? What’s the angle? The father would only come back with guns drawn and then you’re the dead idiot that killed a little girl. Not good for the resume.

I read the note again. ‘Lucy - I hope these chocolates make you feel better. Tell your dad I said ‘hi’ - J.’ Message received, J, whoever you are. And I’m gonna find you. And I’m gonna hand you over to the father. And your life will, indeed, be fucked.

Oct 26

FAIL!

robinpra:

As I was trying to fix my eyebrows, I accidently shaved part of it off. FML! FML! I have a missing eyebrow , WTF ! hahahhaha, hella funny.

The twenty-sixth day of June, in the year of our lord, seven-hundred and eighty-six.

Dear people of Robinprassland, it is be order of our God King that we offer this new and everlasting decree:

In order to be One With Our Lord, one must no longer shave off both eyebrows in order to appear “more pious.” Our God King, by the power vested in him by the Holy Asymmetric Unibrow, hereby decrees that all subjects who decide to adopt this new “fashionable” trend will be executed by means of eyebrow hair ingestion no longer than three days after the offense is committed. As part of this decree, our God King has instructed me to remind you all of the ways of Our Lord and Savior, Robinpra.

It was seven-hundred and eighty-six years and twenty-six days ago when our Lord first told the masses that she had “accidently” shaved off her one eyebrow, and asked her pagan God to ‘F’ her Life. However, from the moment she shaved that one eyebrow she saw that her life was, indeed, not ‘F’ed.’ Quite the contrary, in fact.

Not two hours after her eyebrow hair was shaved, our Lord had ‘scored’ some ‘totally bitching’ ice cream. She then learned that her favorite musical group was coming to town. She then got a phone call from a ‘hotty’ she was ‘eyeing’ for several weeks. He took her out to eat at an establishment called ‘Buca Di Beppo.’ Seeing how her one missing eyebrow had brought her great fortunes, she continued to shave it up until the Great Fire, when cities burned and the streets were littered with the bodies of men, women, children, and beast. Granted, her early writings have lost all context and meaning, but we can assume by the exclamation points and capital letters that everything except the Great Fire was a good thing.

Our Lord made it through the Great Fire unscathed, and whereas she was upset that she would not be able to see her favorite musical group perform, her spirits were lifted by the presence of an angel who told her that her weapon against the coming collapse of society would be her missing eyebrow.

Our Lord began to take the message of this angel to the streets of New Bieberton and developed a small but passionate following of one-eyebrowed Apostles. The corrupt government of New Bieberton saw our Lord as a threat, arrested her, shaved off her other eyebrow, and crucified her.

Her message, however, only grew stronger after her passing. We have not just survived, we have thrived. And we did it all because of the enlightenment one obtains when one shaves one eyebrow.

Not two eyebrows. Two shaved eyebrows was an insult to our Lord, a sign that our enemies did not want to suppress just her, but her message. By shaving both eyebrows, you are guilty of sympathizing with heathens, and your death will be followed by an eternity in Hell.

Be well, and go with our Lord in your journeys.

Sincerely yours in Eyebrow,

Brother Unifous

First Order Monk of the Church of the Asymmetric Unibrow