Good Morning. Here's My Periodic Rant

Does everyone have a ranting list? Ya know what I mean? Like, for example, a writer using poor grammar in a sentence. 😀


Or a writer who uses emojis.


People who “fact vomit” can sometimes kind of bother me. To clarify. People who go around saying stuff they hear without bothering to check its accuracy.


Imagine an individual standing up, chin jutted, chest puffed, stating the following, “My spouse and I are beating the odds! The divorce rate is FIFTY percent, and we’ve been married for twenty NINE years!”


Congratulations. You’re average.


The divorce rate for your demographic is more like twenty percent. Stop repeating that stupid statistic you heard from your friend over thirty years ago. Don’t believe me? There is this whole new invention called the Internet. Look it up.

  • If you want to make an impact on the divorce rate in the United States, you actually have to GET a divorce. So yeah. Stay married, and stay proud. Keep that divorce rate right where it is.


Stop regurgitating words. Just stop it. I know, I know. That’s the manner of learning our primary education system promotes. But you can rise above this. I believe in you.



But wait! There is another subject for this morning’s rant.



Stop being a generational robot. I will again clarify, starting with a story.


In High School I worked at McDonalds. I worked there for a long time. By my senior year I understood how to work every station, and could handle the registers under the most intense rushes.


During High School I was highly focused in the math regimen. I would end up majoring in Mathematics, and later in life I obtained a masters in Electrical Engineering, and even taught Electrical Engineering at the Naval Academy. There is a point to this. I promise.


I will always remember a specific Saturday morning my senior year working at McDonalds. We had four registers, with four lines, extending to the door and beyond. This had been going on for nearly an hour. I was a bit tired.


An older gentleman at my register, after I was gathering his change, handed me an additional four cents so he could receive an even amount in return. I froze. Normally I could count almost anything in my head. But I was tired and I was caught off guard.


“Never mind,” he exclaimed as he took his four cents back and accepted my change. He went on to state, “This generation! No one teaches them to count!”


He wanted to ensure the entire lobby heard his opinion.


That was 1985.


Fast forward to now. Thirty-five years later.


I’ve had a few customers do the same thing to my employees.


Congratulations. You. Are. A. Generational. Robot.


That’s my term. I invented it. Thank you. Thank you very much.


Stop it. Stop doing that.

Guess what? The next generation behind you is different. They do things differently. They use things like Snapchat and Twitter and they don’t call people. They text instead.


In 1939, the parents of the day called their teenagers lazy and unappreciative. “You don’t know what it’s like to go from prosperity to depression.”


Those teenagers won World War II.


The generation behind you will never be your version of yourself.


Get. Over. It.


I have more rants. But I’m told to keep my articles short otherwise I might lose my audience. Maybe I’ll make this a habit for future articles.


Ending with emojis. We’re ending with emojis. Woo…


😜 🤫 🤓 🤔 👽



Note: The whole 1939 thing I wrote above is historical fiction. I don’t know if the parents said those things. But I’m pretty sure they did.


And here's one more rant. Bloggers who gratuitously promote advertising on their website.


Check this out!



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