The Post Where You Learn Why I've Given Up On Humanity

You know what I really love? People who think I give a flying fuck what their opinion is. Let me paint a picture for you.

It's December 23. It's like 2:58 and Harlow is past tired and we are still out shopping. At Gamestop. 2 Days before Christmas. So basically it was just like being in Hell- except I assume hell would have better crowd control. I finally make my way to the register, balancing a stack of games, one floppy pissed off bundle of baby, my leather coat that weighs about 9 trillion pounds and my purse- which outweighs the coat by half at least. The girl at the register could have been super cute, once you looked past the fact that her hair was 5 different colors, her face was so pierced up, you could barely see face- and the tattoos, OH THE TATTOOS. It was like... unbelievable. And for the record, my navel is pierced, I've had my nose pierced and I have several tattoos- I'm not anti-body art. I'm anti-self mutilation. And when you pierce your collar bones (YIKES) and your open shirt shows solid tattoo from your boobs to your chin- yeah, honey I'm sorry- I'm gonna stare. Because REALLY? You did that on purpose?

Wait. This is not where I was going with this. People and their dumb asses thinking they get opinions. Right, I'm back on track now.

Freak Girl: (pointing to baby, who is seriously hating life right now)”She's so cute. What's her name?”

Me: “Harlow Asia” (for the record, “Asia” is pronounced “ahhZEEah”) Yeah, I know- talk to my husband on that one.

FG: (wrinkles nose) “That's weird- where did you find that?”

**Now, at this point, Harlow is climbing my back, it's about 134 degrees in the store and I'm just not feeling this conversation**

Me: “I found it in a baby name book and really liked it.” in my head I added “now please shut the fuck up before I kill you and they have to ID the body by the shear number of metal appendages left behind” But of course, I don't say that- because I'm nice. And stupid. Really stupid.

FG: “oh. Hey Jill, did you hear what she named this baby? HARLOW. Have you ever heard of that before?”

**Really? I will end you right here. I don't care. I'm out shopping 2 days before Christmas for-christs-sake, I obviously have NOTHING to lose. Just try me, bitch.**

Jill: “That's kinda cute. But you know my friend, she just had a baby and you know what she named her? TEMPEST. Isn't that the WORST?”

me: (because I'm an asshole- and because it's 100% true) “I actually like that name, if I couldn't get my husband to agree to Harlow, she was going to be Tempest Nicole. Now, how much do I owe you?”

And then my head exploded.

So there's the story of the time I almost went postal and took out an entire Gamestop. Looking back, I really wish I had less self control. Or at least a flame thrower in my trunk. You can blog from prison, right?

I wish I could say that was the only encounter I've had like that, but sadly in this parenting adventure, I've encountered many fucktards who feel the need to spew their ignorance all over me. But that, Dear Internet, is another story for another day....