I was talking to my editor Sam the other day about the silliness that I’m allowed to inflict on you here in the back of the paper. He mentioned that people, you people, seem to like it when I’m ranting and raving about my crappy life and this “magic” city that we live in. “But, Samuel…” I began, “there’s nothing new to complain about.” Which, I suppose, for anyone else would be a good thing. But my bread, butter, lights, and Food Network depend on this stupid city and its people keeping me pissed so that I can translate it to the poetry you crave here in the colored section of the Birmingham Weekly.
Well, I’m sure if I try hard enough I can think of a few things to complain about to keep you guys wallowing in the endless pool that is my pain. I do it all for you, my babies.
First off, stop starting groups on Facebook.
It’s incredibly stupid. In the good old days, before laziness, if people felt strongly enough about something they would protest. You really had to mean it, though, because you had to organize your people, make signs, spellcheck, carpool and avoid the hoses and the dogs when you got there. Peaceful protest meant something because it was something you ACTUALLY had to do. Now you press a “like” button. And it doesn’t matter because it’s stupid and no one sees it. NO ONE`SEES IT. Joining a group on Facebook is the equivalent of a determined nod. If you’re against the murder of innocent ducklings, press “like”. Or go outside and F*^%ing do something about the murdered ducklings!
Also, quick note, black women on Facebook. What’s with this trend of the extralong fake middle name? Cindy Lookingforagoodmanthatpayshisownbills Davis. Stop that. YOU’RE EMBARRASING US. Perhaps you’ll find that special guy once you decipher the secret of “your and “you’re.”
Speaking of embarrassing dames, time to talk to the ladies of the computer dating world. I know that at my age, I have to accept certain things when it comes to meeting ladies. Teenaged kids, ex-husbands, college football. Such is life. But ladies I have to tell you—and I’m speaking for all men of internet dating—we don’t care about your cat.
Stop making a picture of your cat one of your profile pictures. You know why you’re not getting any “winks”? Because you mentioned your cat more than once. Saying things like “love me, love my cat” is the reason why you have to use internet dating to begin with. Stop it. STOP IT.
There are occasions when fans or friends will come to me with subjects that they think will make pretty nifty Suburban Legend topics. They are often wrong, but I humor them because I’m a nice guy. Look, I don’t give a shit about Alabama OR Auburn so I’m not gonna be writing about Nick Saban. I don’t even really know who that is. I’m not saying you should stop suggesting things, I’m just saying don’t be surprised if I never get around to it.
I once had an employer tell me that they were upset because I never wrote about them. Seriously. What was I supposed to write about? The lack of raises and benefits?
Everybody always wants something for nothing . I guess that’s my biggest current gripe. You look out into the world and you see the Paris Hiltons and the Snookis getting rich from nothing and the artists of the world (me) having to hustle for rent money.
The worst part is, the kids see this and they think that it’s something to emulate. Perhaps someone should start a Facebook group that gets kids to go outside and read a book.
Until then, I’ll try to stay pissed off so that I can keep you guys entertained. You’re welcome.
J’Mel Davidson is the founder of a local improv comedy troupe called The Feminist Debutante Guild. You can send him the love—or a Facebook invite—via editor@bhamweekly. com or heinousclown@gmail.com
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