In a perfect world, all Big Macs would already have fries in between the buns, and my cats would enjoy taking baths; “Crystal Pepsi” would still exist, and Bahamut would be my mode of transportation. And no one would ever make stupid grammar mistakes–like using “your” and “you’re” interchangeably–because misusing words would be a crime punishable by death. Actually, you know what? That’s the only thing I’ll need in my perfect world, so forget all the other stuff before it.

Putting people on death row for having crappy language skills may seem harsh, but forcing those of us who have worked to attain and maintain our grammar and spelling is worse. What did we ever do to deserve the cruel and unusual punishment of living in a world where people screw up basic words and phrases? Nothing! And yet, we are expected to suffer in silence, with no opportunities for redemption, while certain members of society beat us to death with their nonsense words–a few prime examples being:

I Could Care Less

The phrase “I could care less” is used when someone wants to convey the idea that they really despise something or someone. Unfortunately for the speaker, “I could care less” is not the same as saying “I could not care less,” the difference being that the former has more Care Points than the latter. Thus, if you’re talking about how you hate clowns so much that you “could care less,” you’re basically saying you don’t hate clowns at all. At most, you dislike them because they are scary and make balloon animals that look more like folded dongs, but you definitely do not hate them because you have Care Points to spare.

Being able to tell the difference between “could care less” and “could not care less” is very important, especially when you are talking smack because that is when emphasizing your point really matters. For example: I hate that show “The Hills.” I’ve only managed to sit through one whole episode—which I will never, ever do again because I honestly believe watching that show kills brain cells. That is the only rational explanation for its popularity: killing brain cells enables a person to find “The Hills” entertaining. It definitely has nothing to do with an engaging storyline because all L.C. and her groupies seem to do is go out to restaurants and bars, and complain about how difficult their lives are as a result of going out to restaurants and bars. That’s a pretty weak premise even for a fake reality show. My turd could come up with something better, and it’s a freaking turd.

I do not care at all for “The Hills”—to the point where I could not care less. And if I ever find myself feeling otherwise—i.e., being able to care less—you have my permission to suffocate me in the armpit of that fat guy down in Mexico.

Irregardless

I know what you’re thinking: people don’t actually use “irregardless”! That’s just an urban legend! I can’t blame you for feeling this way for I, too, was once in denial. Back when I was a young and naïve 24 year old, I used to think it was common knowledge that the opposite of “regardless” was “regardful.” I mean, come on! The antonym of “less” is “full”! How is it possible for anyone to screw that up? Even when we’re living in a time where “The Hills” is a popular show, no one is that stupid.

Sadly, I was blinded by my faith in the human race and could not see the truth: there actually are people who are that stupid. These people use “irregardless” in place of “regardless,” and most likely say “regardless” in place of “regardful” or “regarding.” Can you imagine how annoying it would be to talk to someone like that?

“Regardless of my stank body odor, I can’t get a date even if my life depended on it.”

Tell me how that makes sense! Tell me!

Literally

I was reading an article that talked about how this year, children are asking Santa Claus to bring jobs and help their parents pay the bills. One of the mall Santas mentioned how hard it was for him to see young kids worrying about the economy, “I’ve had children just literally tear my heart out.”

Let’s get this out of the way: “literally” means “actually.” If you say something literally happened, you are saying it actually happened. So if Santa had children literally tear his heart out, then he should press charges!

It’s an emphasis thing, I know, but that’s not an excuse for crap-ass vocabulary. Ever heard of “figuratively”? I’m guessing the answer is “no” because otherwise people would be using it instead of misusing “literally.” And people who misuse “literally” should literally be beaten to death with rubber hoses.

Stop manipulating words to make up for your weak language skills! It’s disgusting!

Because I am so confident in my femininity, I have no problems telling you that I tweeze my upper lip…*dead silence* I mean…I have a friend who tweezes her upper lip…yeah…

Yeah, right. I’m not going to deflect any potential shame or embarrassment by talking about “my friend” instead of myself. That is almost impossible for me to do anyway, because I’m such a narcissistic attention whore. Whose morning breath was so foul that her cat tried to bury her the same way it buries its poop? Mine! And who defrosted raw chicken in the microwave, left it sitting out half-raw for 20 minutes, cooked and ate it even though it was probably covered in bacteria, and then ended up with debilitating diarrhea? Me!

So yes, I tweeze my upper lip. Every now and then I’ll find two or three dark hairs just relaxing on my face, and will rip them out before they start inviting their friends. Unless I’m looking for a job with the circus (and I’m not…yet), I don’t see any reason for me to let those hairs remain.

Checking my upper lip for wayward hairs is an important part of my regular grooming routine. Even though I rarely find anything worth plucking, and when I do it’s at most five hairs, that does not give me an excuse to become complacent. If anything, it is an indication of how imperative my plucking has become, as it is the most important defense I have against a horrible predator: the Girl-Stache!

Yes, the Girl-Stache–the evil that has afflicted some girls with thick, full, luxurious mustaches even though they are not on Jose Conseco’s Juice diet or undergoing hormone therapy. One should always be on the look-out for any signs of the dreaded Girl-Stache because anything less than total vigilance will make you vulnerable to attack.

Trust me when I say this: Girl-Stache is not to be taken lightly! It stalks your hair follicles with unwavering patience, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. And when that opportunity comes, when the victim has neglected to check her upper lip, the Girl-Stache moves in with such stealth and speed that its target has no idea of the assault that has just taken place right under her nose. There, the Girl-Stache will grow–silently increasing its territory and influence, unimpeded by its host because the Girl-Stache has used its super ninja skills to conceal itself from being noticed–until it has successfully attained total domination. And when it does, the world will know that another Upper Lip has succumbed and cannot be saved…

…at least, not without facing a serious dilemma: should you alert the victim that her facial forest needs a mowing, or keep it to yourself so she doesn’t feel embarrassed? The Girl-Stache knows it has created a delicate situation, which is what makes it both frightening and intruiguing.

Beware the Girl-Stache!

Behold, the product of a truly genius mind:

(Okay, so it looks more like a mallet than a hammer…but whatever…)

The world would be a much better place if we had Wiggidy-Wack Hammers available for us to use whenever we really need to beat someone down for being wiggidy-wack. A regular hammer just does not cut it because people tend to presume you are committing criminal assault if they see you hammering at someone’s face. But with a Wiggidy-Wack Hammer, everyone will know you’re bludgeoning someone for a good reason.

I came up with this awesomely awesome tool of awesomeness while I was taking the Multistate Professional Responsibility Examination, better known as the MPRE, last Saturday. It was bad enough that I had a freaking test at 9:00 in the morning, but I was also stuck taking it with a wiggidy-wack asshole.

If you have ever taken a standardized test, then this should look familiar to you:

Ah yes, the Scantron form. It’s quite the pain-in-the-ass, isn’t it? Especially if you have a long name and are stuck filling in a bunch of bubbles—what a freaking nightmare. I’ve only got 6 letters in my first name, but filling in a measly 6 ovals has turned out to be a most excruciating experience because of my obsession with staying within the lines.

Anyway, you can pretty much figure out how the Scantron sheet works just by looking at it: you write in your name or whatever information in the blank boxes, and darken the bubble with the corresponding alphabet letter. As for the blank ovals at the top of the column–it doesn’t really take a genius to realize that those are to be filled in if any of the boxes above are left blank. Although the standardized tests I took in the past did not require me to do so, I guess the MPRE wants to stand apart from all the other Scantron-based exams by making their testtakers fill in the blank ovals.

So the main test proctor read us instructions on how to properly fill in those letterless bubbles–causing a few people to mutter or sigh because it didn’t seem necessary to tell us how to do the obvious. We just wanted to hurry and start before anxiety set in. However…

This guy seriously could not figure it out. It was as if he was being asked to conduct open-heart surgery or something. It’s a blank oval for blank boxes! Fill them in with your pencil, dumbass! The longer I watched this guy, the more pissed I became; the more pissed I became, the more I wanted to beat him down.

Okay, so my version of Tony Montana leaves much to be desired—but, lucky for me, I can still be a badass without emulating a character from a movie that is apparently a staple of every rappers’ DVD collection. Indeed, although I’ve amassed a Mount Kilimanjaro-sized pile of lackluster “achievements,” I also have a handful of accomplishments that have made me a bona fide badass. Granted, I am the only one who thinks I’ve rightfully earned this title, but you know what? Chicken butt (oh no I di’int!). You know what else? I watched both the English and Japanese versions of “The Ring” and “The Grudge” and couldn’t sleep without the lights off until I turned 24, so I don’t care that my badass status only exists in my own mind because that is the only thing preventing me from being the lamest person on Earth I’m a badass…and yes, I like to use circular arguments whenever I can’t come up with anything better.

All joking aside, I think everyone has accomplished something that makes them feel pretty badass even though most people consider that “something” terribly mundane. But it’s the fact that you were able to do it that makes it meaningful. For instance, I think of myself as a badass because I got all four of my wisdom teeth removed at once. Not really that exciting…except two of my teeth were impacted–i.e., growing on their sides:

Oh, and I didn’t have the luxury of being knocked out during the procedure. Instead, I went in with nothing more than two shots of novacaine, an MP3 player, and my massive balls of steel. And for 20 minutes, I got to listen to a dentist hammer and saw away four of my teeth–which had not even grown out of my gums yet–because the MP3 player wasn’t loud enough to drown out the noise. And then I drove myself home. See, I ain’t no punk b*tch!

I know getting one’s wisdom teeth removed is something many people have experienced, but I’m still pretty proud of myself for going through it because seriously, I had considered running out of the dentist’s office and just living my life with really jacked-up teeth. I was that scared. But once it was over, I felt like such a badass, with my face all swollen and my mouth stuffed with gauze. Sexy.

So…what have you done that makes you a badass?