When I was a kid, I used to hate when adults called me “quiet.” I mean, how is a person supposed to take that? If I were to call someone “loud,” that sounds like an insult, right? 

Being called “quiet” definitely doesn’t feel like a compliment. It feels more like an awkward observation from someone who is not comfortable enough in their own skin to sit alone at the dinner table with a kid with a lazy eye who isn’t saying anything. 

I mean, get over yourself…

And how was I supposed to respond? 

“Aw, thanks – I thought no one would notice.”

“Shhh, I’m praying.”

*Scream like a demon and twitch my lazy eye*

*Exaggerated exhale* “You broke the spell! You get three wishes.”

“I like turtles.”

Or my default: Continue to be quiet, giggle nervously, and die a little inside.

(THAT’S RIGHT, UNCLE STEVEN – you gave me GERD!)

But now that I’m an adult, people can’t get me to shut up (unless I’m at work… I am strategically quiet at work). And the reason for that is I finally realized two things:

1. My voice box actually works (my brother lied to me – he gave me GERD, too).
2. I have a manly voice, and people listen to men.

It baffles me how comfortable people are saying things to me that are clearly insulting or are just dumb and intrusive observations. 

“You’re eating Cheetos and Mountain Dew for breakfast.”

“No. Way. I thought these were puffy orange health pills and this was the green urine of a Chinese tree bush that preserves your colon. Man, was I way off… Oh well, at least it’s diet.”

“You wear a lot of eyeliner.”

“My parents lost me in an alley when I was two, so I was raised by raccoons for a week. This is the coping mechanism my therapist suggested to honor their memory… ya insensitive prick.”

I’m only 32 and already have chronic back pain. My shoulders are hunched, my spine’s a question mark, and people will shake their head like, “It’s from letting cats sleep on the bed with you.”

And I’m like, “Well, your dog must sit on your face when you sleep. Because I’m looking at a butt.”

Like gee, all these years, I have been completely flummoxed trying to find the root of my back pain, but in walks Karen and eureka! She pulls the root right out of her ass! God bless you, Karen! (And maybe see a doctor about seeing what else is up your butt.)

If you’ve learned anything from this rant, let it be these four things:

1. I have GERD.
2. There is no such thing as green urine from a Chinese tree bush (or maybe there is, but I’m too lazy to Google it).
3. I’m too lazy to Google.
4. Karen is targeted way too often by everyone, and someone should probably check on her.

For more random shit that is a complete waste of your time, check out the video below. (Or go hug Karen – whichever is most convenient… Tell Karen I said hi.)