Tuesday, 16 August 2011

The Anatomy of a Message Board Argument

So I've been involved in online message boards for about 10 years now- pretty much as soon as I realized that yahoogroups were tedious and irritating. In my various messageboards travels (SRSLY, I am a total whore for MBs...hanging out on boards related to anything from emetophobia to cloth diapers. Shit, I even belong to boards that exist for the sole purpose of snarking other boards), I have discovered that everytime there is a massive amount of drama, it tends to follow the same basic formula. Sometimes resulting in more hilarity than others.

In order to first understand the basic development of a message board fight, you must first examine the five basic archetypes of message board participants. These categories are not mutually exclusive, but rather a person can belong to more than one to various degrees....a venn diagram of douchebaggery if you will.

In no particular order, here they are:

The Pollyannas 

Hailey Mills doesn't have anything on these bitches. SRSLY, they shit rainbows and unicorn sparkleighs, and are oh-so-perfect that they would nevah EVAH dare engage in any sort of name-calling or overt confrontations. Instead, they prefer clutching their pearls and flouncing about admonishing anyone who dares to have an opinion different than their own.

Most likely found: On parenting boards passive-aggressively stating how much of a better parent than you they are

The OGBs

...otherwise known as Original Gangsta Bitches. If you have ever pissed off one of these women, you will know it because they will NEVER FUCKING FORGET. Eight years after getting into a fight over something assinine like brands of sliced bread they will still hate your ass, even if you single-handedly cured cancer and pulled puppies out of a burning schoolhouse. They also have no desire to play nice or pretend to give a shit when the Jan Bradys of the board post all the inane shit about their day begging for validation. While you may enjoy the je-ne-sais-quoi edge that the OGBs provide, beware as they will throw your ass under a bus if you piss them off.

Most likely found: Wherever drama is to be had. Even boring drama that is not related to their situation.
The Jan Bradys

You know how Jan Brady always had those crazy fuck eyes and you just know that behind them she was plotting particularly gruesome ways in which to kill Marcia in her sleep? Well, imagine her with an internet connection and the need for validation from perfect strangers, and then you have the Jans. They equate popularity with the sheer number of threads they manage to post about the most inane shit in their lives, ranging for how bad their asses stank to how they haven't trimmed their bushes in eleventy-years. SRSLY, there be no TMI. Don't respond? Yeah, you aren't getting off that easy....inevitably they will either respond to their own posts, bumping it to the top of the board, or whine and bitch that they aren't popular because no one has replied. After their post has been up for about a millisecond.

Most likely found: In various BGs, unleashing herds upon herds of teal dears.

The Geminis

These are the women who aspire to present the Pollyanna image, but are closer to the OGBs than they would like to publicly admit. While they completely kiss ass to the Jan Bradys in public, in private they will mock the shit out of them. However, if called on this behaviour they will deny deny DENY, and are most likely to be hypocritical of the OGBs (despite expressing similar sentiments in private). These bitches should be trusted to the same extent that you would trust an inmate in the shower if you drop the soap- don't do it, it's a trap! While the OGBs are the OGBs, and you know where they stand, you will never know when a Gemini will take something you said out of context and use it to stir up drama (which they claim to hate, but secretly LUUUURVE more than a Kardashian loves a camera filming their ass).

Most likely found: On pw protected boards bitching about the same Jan Bradys that they are publicly supporting.

The Sally Fields 

What the Sally Fields fear more than a fat woman fears spandex is people not liking them. Popularity and perception is EVERYTHING, yo, so they don't want to publicly commit to any side of an argument until there is a clear winner. So they lay in wait, looking for the perfect opportunity to do a "what she said" to further ingratiate herself to the Pollyannas (unless a herd of OGBs are dominant, in which case they kiss some OGB arse). While they claim to hate drama, we all know they secretly luv it, because it gives them an opportunity to side themselves with the victors.

Most likely found: Following around the OGBs on the search for the very drama they claim to hate.

Ho-Kay. So now that you have the basic idea of what we are dealing with, let's give a play by play of how these shitstorms usually go down.

Most drama is generally started by the Jans, because they are usually more prone to being a lying liar who lies, and are so caught up with their own manufactured drama that they don't realize people are too SMRT to see through their BS. That, or they start bitching about someone (their MIL, DH, best friend, etc.) and it becomes clear that they are the craxxy ones and their poor families deserve a fucking MEDAL for putting up with their special brand of cray-cray.

The OGBs, never ones to sit on their hands or ignore an opportunity to call someone out on their asshattery, go all "nuh huh fuck eyes, you be trippin'". So basically this:

Which of course offends the delicate sensibilities of the Pollyannas, who feign shock and awe at the fact that someone dared to not be 100% supportive- because after all, we all should get along and vomit rainbow sparkleighs and rose petals and fluffy white kittens.

Next up a Gemini attempts to go all OGB on the OGBs (which never works because, let's face it, you can't play a playah), even though the person they are defending is the exact.same.bitch. that they have previously complained about in private. But whatevs, they will never admit it, and it's usually in the company of a Sally Field who they know would never out them publicly, lest they be labeled a narc. Speaking of the Sallys, the whole time they are sitting back with a bowl of popcorn, waiting to see who to align themselves with.

Inevitably, the Jan goes all:

Claiming that they will NEVER come back (although you know bitch be lying, as she's just waiting to see how many people beg her to stay- tru fax), and that she is going to go off and cry now. The drama seems to be over, but never one to miss an opportunity to show how superior they are a Pollyanna will start a thread relating to the previous drama, usually under the guise of "I'm not sure what happened to us- we used to be closer than a politician to a hooker" or how she is "werry WERRY disappointed in all of us"- because she is obviously my mom and I give two shits.

And that folks, is how these feats of fuckery usually progress.

Shit, I think I needs me some wine now.

Sunday, 22 May 2011

Child v Doctor: The inevitable sequel to Child V Barstool, only with MOAR drama

So I got the short end of the stick and needed to take Norah to get the stitches out of her chin. Knowing that this was inevitably going to be an ordeal of epic proportions, I packed a lunch, my phone, a change of clothes and a book. And a handful of tylenol for the massive fucking headache that was likely going to result.

We went to the clinic (since the idea of sitting around the emerg where she got them done appealed to me about as much as doing the cast of The Golden Girls, pre and post-mortem), and after about two hours of dicking around (and watching multiple attempts of people trying to get narcotics, even though the sign clearly states they do not renew scripts for them), we got called in.

All this poor fucker (aka the doctor) had to do was walk in the room, and then Norah lost her shit. As in a full on screaming, snotting, kicking tantrum that may or may not have resulted in the doc narrowly escaping being kicked in the junk. While I would like to have sympathy for him, it became blatantly obvious when he started trying to reason with her as though she was 23 and not 3 that he has not really had much experience with children.

Some gems that came out of his mouth:

"Now Norah, that's not fair"

No shit dude, but it was also not fair that she broke the fall off the barstool with her face, so let's call this one a stalemate.

"Norah, if you keep acting like this I'm just going to leave"

Great! Because that's not what she wants AT ALL- I'm pretty sure you are the source of this meltdown Dr. Dipshit, so how's about we NOT give her the option of you leaving!

"Norah, this isn't going to hurt at all- just sit still"

....as the big scissors make their way towards her face. Dude, the last time she went to the doctor they fucking sewed her face up, and the time before that they cut an earring out of her ear. So really, I'm pretty sure your word means SHIT to her three year old self right now. Sweet Jamaican Jesus on a stick.

"Norah, those stitches need to come out"

followed closely by:

"Norah, if you don't behave I'm not taking them out"

Well gee asshole, can you make up your mind? You, me, and everyone in the fucking waiting room knows these damned stitches need out- don't make her think that it's optional. Mixed messages, yo!

Eventually I got her in a semi-headlock position and he managed to get them out- during the struggle a button came out of his shirt and I think he may have lost his stethescope, but the job was done.

I'm pretty sure the 20 year old medical assistant in the room helping me hold her down will likely not have kids until this incident is far back in her memory.

Three year olds- the best birth control EVAH.

Thursday, 19 May 2011

Kid v Barstool: the epic battle

I guess the title of my blog was especially apt last weekend, as while Norah was hanging out at my cousin's house she took a header off a barstool. FYI, in case you were not aware, people will Prince-face the fuck out of you if you mention that you kid fell off a barstool. The assumption apparently is that this occurred in an actual bar after a shot of jack. Which is totally ridic, since anyone who knows us knows that we only bring Norah to the bar on Fridays, and her drink of choice is vodka, not jack.

Anyway, apparently after several hours of going up and down the barstools with no issue whatsoever (this cousin also has four kids, all of whom navigate the barstools just fine), Norah fell off. And broke the fall with her face. My cousin was about 5 feet away from her, and said that she made no effort to break her fall with her hands, and seemed genuinely shocked when her face made impact. Seeing as she is the child of a man who once gave himself a concussion from trying to throw a rock but instead dropping it on his own head, I can believe it.

After a few hours in the ER, and needing to wrap her in blankets so she wouldn't kid the crap out of the doctor (I don't know what it is with this kid and doctors, but it's not a good scene), Norah is the proud recipient of 5 stitches.

Or "stars" as she likes to call them. Just ask her, she will proudly display her battle wounds:

(pic curtesy of my husband's iphone- I love the fact that she kind of looks like a zombie in search of a delicious meal of brains).

I just hope there is awhile before the inevitable sequels of "Kid v Couch" and "Kid v Stairs".

Back- Now Bigger and Bloggier

Ok, so apparently I royally suck ass at sticking with things. Or I'm really awesome at procrastination. Either way, after a handful of posting on the old blog, I pretty much abandoned it like a prom night baby.

But now that Viv is actually sleeping for more than 5 seconds at a time, Norah can be trusted not to play in traffic, and Chris can wipe his own ass, I gots some time on my hands. And you know me, if I don't actually do something productive with my time it will quickly escalate to hookers and blow.

So I'm back.

*cue the trumpets*

*cue the fanfare*

*cue the local LCBOs to stock up on box 'o wine*