Gratitude: UR DOIN IT RONG

For the most part, I’m a positive, glass-half-full, appreciate-the-small-things kind of person. Whenever a small annoyance occurs in my life–for example, when a certain coworker of mine sends me an email, prints out said email, and then hand-delivers the hard copy of the email to me at my desk so that we can discuss the email I AM ALREADY READING–I try to remember that things could be so, so much worse, and then things seem a lot brighter while I’m grinding my teeth with rage and trying to calm the throbbing vein in my forehead.

I SAW YOUR DAMN EMAIL STOP WASTING PAPER AND MY TIME HRRRRRRRRRRRNNNNGH!

All Forwards Go To Heaven

And by “heaven,” I mean “directly to the deleted items folder of everyone with a functioning sense of decency.” The only other acceptable option is sending them to me, so that I may safely disassemble the forward for the purposes of mockery.

I cannot, however, guarantee that it will not come back to life. Also, my desk is a complete mess. Anyone know how to get brains out of a mouse wheel?

PAY IT FORWARD: Bank Account

Twelve days into the new year, and I’m hittin’ you up with a PAY IT FORWARD, Internet. Don’t say I never gave you anything!

Except for all those months when I didn’t post any PAY IT FORWARDs. You can say I never gave you anything then.

PAY IT FORWARD: It’s Good to Be Back (I Think)

Brace yourself, Internet. Believe it or not, it’s PAY IT FORWARD! time again.

I’m so excited, I just OakRidged in my leisure suit.

PAY IT FORWARD: Life Lessons For Obtuse Asshats

Ahhh, Internet. Do you hear that? It’s the sound of another PAY IT FORWARD about to explode onto your screen. I hope you brought paper towels.

How you choose to display said towels is up to you. However, you should know that if you use a paper towel holder with a disembodied dog head, we will probably never be friends.

PAY IT FORWARD: Lame Beyond My Years

Oh, Internet, I know. I KNOW! I know I have been so incredibly remiss when it comes to posting new PAY IT FORWARDs, but with all the holiday madness/germ-having/car-barfing/house-selling that’s been going on, I’ve had my hands a bit full. But you’re not the only ones who suffer as a result of my non-posting! No PAY IT FORWARDS means no outlet for my overflowing bounty of sarcasm, which is quite a dangerous thing. If I don’t get the smartassery out of my system online, it starts to surface in other areas of my life, like at work or, say, the afternoon daycare pick up.

Hey, Emma — my grandma called. She wants her fugly red ruffled turtleneck back. WHAT?! Oh, sack up, Emma, for real.

PAY IT FORWARD: Eating Our Emotions

Have you ever had a particular food completely ruined for you by, say, a sneaky stomach bug that surfaced mere moments after a meal (hello, scrambled eggs it took me 15 years to learn to love again), or perhaps an ill-advised overindulgence of alcohol (I’m looking your way, fettuccine alfredo), or maybe even morning sickness (get the FUCK out of here, lobster)?

Thanks.

Well, today is the day an email forward is going to ruin a whole assload of food for you, Internet. If you feel vaguely dirty eating a banana now, you’re going to have some serious issues after we’re through with this shit.

Go away, MOM! I’m getting my daily recommended allowance of potassium!

PAY IT FORWARD: This Creationism is Delicious!

WARNING: This PAY IT FORWARD is going to make you wicked hungry, Internet.

Emphasis on “wicked.”

PAY IT FORWARD: The Lady Doth Protest Too Much

I knew a boy throughout junior high and high school who had a reputation for being a total perv with the ladies. If you were a girl, he was warm for your form and he let you know about it. He spent years making crude jokes about what he wanted to do to my boobs, and then everyone graduated and BOOM! He came fah-lyyying out of the closet. He was gay! Of course he was gay! He didn’t want to come within 100 meters of my damn boobs (…literally), and that’s why he constantly spoke to the contrary.

So you’ll have to forgive me if I’m less than convinced that a man who constantly yammers on about how straight he is doesn’t actually enjoy the occasional mouthful o’weenus, especially when he presents this self-portrait as evidence of his supreme gun-owning, bike-riding, manly-man toughness:

HAAAAY GIRRRRL!

PAY IT FORWARD: My Wood Is Wet

Sometimes when I read the forwards you guys send me, I’m at a loss for words, and not in a good way. Having used the terms “moronic,” “idiotic,” and “horrifically fucking ridiculous” in my PAY IT FORWARD entries more times than I can count, sometimes I feel the need to turn to visuals when expressing my reactions. And so I give you a photo I snapped with my cell phone mere moments after reading the last sentence of today’s featured forward:

This is also the face I make whenever I try to watch “How I Met Your Mother” after being told for the 6,235,620th time that it’s “so funny” and “you’ll love it.”

(It isn’t and I don’t.)