Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Things I Can't Do Anymore, Thanks to the Internet

So we've all gotten the emails from Aunt Sally, the Facebook shares, the paranoid rants from friends saying, "OH MY GOD did you read the one about.....???" Most of them usually turn out to be urban legends. Even so, way too many people will believe them anyway. It seriously seems as if the more our knowledge is expanded by technology, the dumber and more gullible we get. No matter the story, no matter how far-fetched, it's on the Internet. It's been shared like thousands of times. How can it not be true? 

So here's a list of things I can't do anymore.....thanks to the Internet and all of you people who forward me emails, share things on my Facebook wall, and do the whole, "OH MY GOD did you hear about....." thing. Thanks so much.

Things I Can't Do Anymore, Thanks to the Internet:

I can no longer open a bathroom door without using a paper towel. Or my sleeve. Or the hem of my skirt. I've even used my elbows at times. But I've seen enough women leave the restroom without washing their hands and I've heard enough stories about the crap (literally and figuratively) left on the handles of public restroom doors that I can't bring myself to touch them anymore.
I can't let the waitress put lemon slices in my ice water - too much bacteria on the lemon peel. 

I can't sit down on a hotel bedspread because I can only imagine what has happened on it since it was last washed. And don't even get me started on the ink blot designs I make in my head out of the blood and other stains that would surely show up with black lights in the hotel room. 

I have trouble shaking hands 
with someone who has been driving because the number one pastime while driving alone is picking one's nose. 

Eating a little snack sends me on a guilt trip because
 I can only imagine how many gallons of trans fats I have consumed over the years. Hey! We didn't know they were bad until recently!

I can't touch any other woman's purse 
for fear she has placed it on the floor of a public bathroom.

I must send my special thanks 
for the email about rat crap in the glue on envelopes. I must also send an extra special thanks to whomever invented self-stick stamps and self-sealing envelopes. 

now I have to wipe off the top of every can before I open it for the same reason.

I can't have a drink in a bar
 because I fear I'll wake up in a bathtub full of ice with my kidneys gone.

I can't eat at KFC 
because their chickens are actually horrible mutant freakish things with no eyes, feet or feathers.

I can't use cancer-causing deodorants 
even though I smell like a water buffalo on a hot day. (Actually I do use deodorant. Body odor is one of my biggest pet peeves and I just can't handle it, no matter what the consequences might be.)

Thanks to you 
I have learned that my prayers only get answered if I forward an e-mail to seven of my friends and make a wish within five minutes. Yet another reason why I think religion is crap. 

Because of your concern , 
I no longer drink Coca Cola because it can remove toilet stains. I also no longer use Listerine, because it can apparently remove the callouses from your feet. 

I no longer buy gas
without taking someone along to watch the car, so a serial killer doesn't crawl in my back seat when I'm filling up. Or slide in the passenger seat. You know what? From now on I am just going to send my husband to buy the gas.

I no longer use Saran Wrap 
in the microwave because it causes seven different types of cancer.

And thanks for letting me know 
I can't boil a cup of water or heat up my coffee in the microwave anymore because it will blow up in my face, disfiguring me for life.

I no longer go to the movie theater 
because I could be pricked with a needle infected with AIDS when I sit down. That and the fact that people in the movie theater are generally so fucking annoying that I want to slap every single one of them before the movie is over.

I no longer answer the phone because someone will ask me to dial a number for which I will get a huge phone bill with calls to Jamaica, Uganda, Singapore and the I would dial it anyway. But I digress.

Thanks to you 
I can't use any bathroom but mine because a big black snake could be lurking under the toilet seat and cause me instant death when it bites my butt. Because there's plenty of room for a big black snake under the seat, you know. You'd never notice a huge snake before you sat down.

And thanks to your great advice 
I can't ever pick up a dime coin dropped in the car park because it was probably placed there by a molester waiting to grab me as I bend over. Because they all want me. They really do. 

I can't do any gardening 
because I'm afraid I'll get bitten by the Violin Spider and my hand will fall off. For those that don't know, the Violin Spider is a Brown Recluse. I live in Texas. Those suckers are vicious. Your hand probably wouldn't fall off, but it wouldn't be pretty after the spider got done with it.

I can no longer take my dog to the dog park because she might pick up a poison soaked Nerf ball. There are just too many weirdos out there.

I can't use the barbecue grill anymore because if I'm wearing my contacts, they're going to fuse to my eyeballs, and if I'm wearing my glasses, I can't see worth a damn. 

So see? See all of these things I can't do anymore? Things that were, for the most part, fine and dandy before the Internet allowed us to share, post, send, and tweet anything and everything, be it true or not? 

I'm sure there are many, many more. Maybe enough for another blog on another day. But that's all for now. I'd love to hear some of yours!


One Blunt Mom

1 comment:

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