#picoaggression

[picoaggression-blog]

I’m Upset for Ben Carson’s Hands!!!

Ben Carson’s hands clearly have a chance to win this Republican primary, and I ask, WHY WERE THEY NOT ASKED MORE QUESTIONS?! Was it because they are Black hands? Was it because they are only a piece of a human being and not the whole human? If it is the latter, does that mean CNN would be bias against an amputee??? Yeah, now we are getting to the heart of it. That’s why Oscar Pistorius couldn’t get a fair trial!!

It’s like Ben Carson’s hands were pleading. Pleading that they were not gentlemen’s hands, that they were calloused and old, hands that raised a family, hands that built a home, hands raised to praise the Lord, hands that -- oh, wait, that’s just a Johnny Cash song. Anyway, Ben Carson’s hands got less time this debate than Ben Carson himself, all they got was a closing statement and they weren’t even allowed to speak for themselves, Mr. Carson had to speak on their behalf. They were in a movie people! In. A. Movie! I want to watch that movie.

And, truthfully, among those at the debate, if I had to vote between them, Ben Carson’s hands seem like the least crazy among them. They have my vote!

[picoaggression-blog]

Robots have rights too! If corporations are people and deserve rights, I don’t know why, we as a civilization, can’t give robots rights as well. Or, even, people clearly dressed in rubbish robot costumes doing a stunt at a rally in order to film it and get attention. I don’t get what all this fighting is about. I would like to see more of this. I would like to see people dressed as that crazy old dancing guy from the Six Flags commercials show up at Bernie Sanders rallies. I’d like to see men dressed in red power suits at Hillary rallies. Crazy people who are dying for attention and will do anything have rights too!

Yes, at some level it could be argued that it is a passive form of civil disobedience, but I am picoaggressed for all those people who do it not for the political statement but because, you know, they just really need the attention.

Like the guys with the giant mustaches and mustache wax who only pull out the mustache wax when in large groups of people. Like the women who wear brightly colored bras under paper thin white shirts and then try to engage people who look at them. Or, you know, probably like a fourth of your friends. A fourth of my friends. Donald Trump. You know, the crazies.

They. have. rights. too.

It’s time we stand up for all the Robot Rubios out there! Because if we won’t, they’ll probably just do something even more annoying next.

[picoaggression-blog]

Don't feel bad... 90% of Americans are wrong with you.

I don’t believe I am ever wrong, so no, I do not accept your right to tell me “knew facts” about life. An expiration date is just that. If humans had an expiration date, as soon as it ran out, I would expect them to die in front of my eyes. Am I being dramatic? No, I am never dramatic. That would be absurd. As absurd as listening to commercials on the radio, especially given the number of channels and online music options.

“Expiration Dates” are just a “guess”?! Then why put them on things that I buy? Are you trying to picoaggress me?! Seriously, are you? I’m being serious. I’ll wait. ... ... ... ... Okay, I’m bored, I’m not waiting any longer. This is just downright offensive. Do you not understand that I grew up with one basic foundation of knowledge and, regardless of if it is, as the kids would call it “accurate”, I am offended that you would like me to change.

When you say, “There was zero federal regulation and standardization of dates placed on food.” Do you mean really zero, or are you using that hyperbole bullcrap commonly out there? I hate when most people “generalize” about something. Just be straight about it.

“According to 99% Invisible [that’s some place or magazine or something, I’m too busy to check], a group of testers will subjectively sample food of varying ages and then take a survey. Those results lead to the freshness (or “expiration,” or “best by”) date. So some random tester saying “these waffles taste kind of weird” determines that seemingly concrete but actually very non-scientific expiration date on your food and drink. And smaller companies, without the budget/time for a taste testing session, will sometimes just estimate (read: make up) their dates. So, if your artisanal, small batch, locally sourced chipotle-infused pickles still taste good a few weeks after they “expire,” it’s no coincidence.”

WHAT?! That IS some bullcrap! I will eat food whenever I want it. I will throw out food that looks only a little bit bruised, or even if I think it might bruise in the near future. Now you tell me I can eat that banana that looks completely fine but I’m pretty sure past an expiration date that I read about in my friend’s AOL Chatroom?? And who eats artist anal pickles? The rest of us aren’t from Brooklyn, give me a break!

And then there is this study: The Dating Game

SPOILER: IT WON’T HELP ANYONE SWIPE RIGHT ON ME OR SEND ME ADDITIONAL WINKS! It’s apparently about food expiration dates. Way to Rick Roll me expiration date article!

And why doesn’t anyone ever define what “Best If Sold By” even MEANS?! Like, you want to get rid of your stock so you need to sell it by then? If so, why not give me a discount leading up to that date? Swipe right on me? 

What?

And, “At the consumer level, according to one calculation, food waste costs the average American family of four $1365-2275 per year.” This is about 160 billion pounds of waste, by the way.” That’s about how much my taxes would rise if Bernie Sanders became president (and the bathroom volume of the Stay Puff Marshmallow Man, if he existed, by the way). I think I just solved how Bernie can pay for things! Ahhhh, my ADD is making me lose focus! Stupid pharmaceutical industry!

And look at this thing! Literally, I can keep my entire fridge inhabitants without throwing them out?! Stop. Just stop. I will throw out what I want when I want to. I usually throw things out at least a week before it goes bad. And by bad, I am referring to the expiration date. Don’t tell me I’m wrong or you’ll get a smack. Because I’m always right. Always. Right.