Fuck slow walkers
To you dawdling fucks who get in everyone’s way on the pavement. Fuck you, you are the fucking scum of the earth. How fucking inconsiderate is it that you amble along without a care in the world, zigzagging from left to right along the pavement like you’re a fucking drunk, so that people with things to do can’t get past? It takes every fibre of will power I possess to not knock you the fuck down. Why the fuck can’t you and your stupid gaggle of friends not keep to one side of the fucking pavement if you’re gonna insist on crawling along just slow enough to piss me off. Fuck the giant assholes who know that they’re walking slower than everyone else on the pavement, but still choose to walk along the only part of the pavement that isn’t covered with snow and ice. If we want to overtake you, we have to shlep through all that shit. I swear to almighty God, one day I’m gonna flip and fulfill my dream of tripping you up and seeing your stupid, oblivious face covered in that snow and ice, while I pride myself on a job well done. People have got places to be. You fucks.
Fuck SSMU and fuck year after year of shitty SSMU executives. Fuck the people who get paid almost $30,000 a year to sit around and answer emails and not give a shit about actual student problems and student lives. Fuck the way they waffle about every decision that comes their way, and fuck the fact that they seem completely incapable of taking a stance on anything. Fuck their snide comments and their complete abdication of responsibility in favour of finger-pointing. Fuck their self-important grandstanding. Fuck their inability to recognize legitimate criticism, and fuck their rejection of any kind of suggestion to their shitty work. Fuck their useless hours-long meetings where they debate the wording of pointless motions instead of how they can actually change shit and help people at this university. Fuck the useless, labrythrine bureaucracy of SSMU that no one can wade through. Fuck the fact that this organization lost $21,000 on something as useless as fucking Frosh and only a handful of people even blinked. Fuck the fact that these people are our “student leaders” and don’t seem to care about anything. Why don’t you just fucking care about the shit that goes on in this fucking place? Then maybe I wouldn’t have to write this fuck this.
Fuck the word strive. Fuck that it rhymes with chive, the second-worst fucking word in the English language. Fuck its fucking awkward-ass spelling. Fuck its stupid noble connotations and all the fucking political science students who spew it every other sentence. Fuck reading a paper that uses strive 20 times per page because they’re too fucking uncreative to come up with a less fucking awkward word. Fuck striving for shit. Fuck your striving and not your doing. Fuck you, strive, my mortal enemy.
Fuck unpaid internships
Fuck unpaid internships. Fuck working for 40 fucking hours a week for nothing but the hope that your shitbag boss wasn’t lying when they said it would be your “way into a good job.” Fuck that most of the times they lie. Fuck the fact that even if they don’t, only rich people will benefit, because who else can afford not to get paid? Fuck the bosses who try to play it off like they’re doing you a fucking favour. Fuck it! Fuck that I still doubt my decision not to do one this summer. Fuck the journalism industry for letting unpaid internships happen. But fuck capitalism too, because capitalism is everything wrong with unpaid internships times 47468.
Fuck clothing, man. Fuck jeans that dig into me and leave marks on my skin, fuck bras that make me my tits feel like a blobfish in gladiator sandals. Fuck boots for people who walk around with toothpick calves. Fuck sausage-casing sleeves. Fuck friends who ask me to go shopping because, “It’ll be fun.” Fuck the people in dressing rooms and behind counters who look at me, look at the clothes I’m holding, and smile like they’re talking to their senile grandmother, “Oh, you’re so cute and clueless, that’ll never happen, sweetie.” Fuck them in particular.
Fuck the fact that I’m 19 fucking years old and I have to dress either like someone’s 14-year-old brother or their dad, because the only option for ‘stylish’ fat girls is the 50s pin-up thing, which takes a LOT OF FUCKING WORK AND CASH between the makeup, and the hair, and the stockings, and I don’t wanna do that shit, okay? FUCK THAT. Fuck people who treat me like a kid because my only option is to dress like one. Fuck the sizing systems for women’s clothing, which aren’t so much based on body measurements as the alignment of the planets and last year’s lotto numbers and someone’s dog’s birthday. Fuck fashion advice that’s all about how to look smaller. Fuck anyone who wants me to look smaller. FUCK SMALL IN GENERAL. I want to take up space, and I’m going to.
Fuck Rez Life. Fuck trying to engage me in your lame definition of “fun” with stupid theme parties. Fuck the people who become best friends with their neighbours because it’s easier than finding people you actually share a connection with. Fuck people believing that their year in Rez will be the best year of your life. Fuck people who judge others because they have no interests in befriending rezmates simply because they live in proximity. Fuck going to your generic clubs where ‘a good time’ means a girl you don’t know violently rubs her ass on your dick to generic music you won’t remember the next day. Finally, fuck me for somehow buying in to the idea, even for a moment, that Rez Life would be enriching. It wasn’t. And if you found it meaningful in any way, fuck you. Rez is just a building. Don’t let it take on a deeper meaning.