You just made my list!

Goodbye, turds.

No, you are not turds. Well, some of you are. Wait, when I really think about it, I have dealt with an incredible amount of turds and turd-related activities on this website. To be honest though, it was those turds who got me out of bed each morning. I LOVE all the hate mail that continues to pour in every day, it truly does make my day. I salute you, turds!

But where does that leave you, the non-turd? Well, I love you even more. Yes, even I have the ability to love.

If I may be human for one brief moment, I really have loved hearing from all of you over the last few years but the reality is that I simply do not have the time or energy to continue writing. You may not be able to tell from my past writing, but I actually really put effort into this site and I don’t want to continue unless I feel I can give it my best effort.

“Fuck you Listy, how hard can it be to rant about Guy Fieri?!?”

What did you just say to me? Do you have any idea how much vomit I choked down over the past 3 years while writing about powerful enemies like Guy Fieri, Miracle Whip and corn? Holy shit, I just realized something, if Guy Fieri has a recipe that involves slathering corn on the cob with Miracle Whip I might have to kill myself.

Back to the point… Dedicating 5 nights a week to my genius opinions was taxing but I did it for you, the little people. And WOW, was I good at it! Not to mention, all the hilarious writing I did (and continue to do) in the comments. I really am great, just like you guys always tell me. I’m high-fiving myself. Now I’m taking off my shirt and karate kicking the air while singing a Kid Rock song. I don’t know if it’s a real Kid Rock song but when I sing about America, tits and eagles I just assume it’s probably one of his songs.

So, as much as I hate to say it, I think it’s time for me to close up shop. It feels weird to make it official but all moderately good things must eventually fizzle and die a slow, forgetful death. Like Aerosmith.

I’m trying to find just the right words to sign off with. Something sincere, poignant and heartfelt. Perhaps I will simply say this…

Everything is the worst.

Goodbye.

So, why haven’t I been writing lately? Turns out, when you move to Hawaii, you have to sell everything you own first. And, it turns out, selling everything you own is a fucking pain in the ass that takes up every free minute of your life.

I mention this so that I can fully illustrate my disgust with today’s topic. It takes something insanely stupid to get me motivated enough to hop back on the computer, and today I found it at a Red Robin restaurant.

Has it really come to this? Are Americans actually so lazy that they can’t be bothered to raise their heads to watch TV? Do we need TVs in the floor? You wouldn’t want to miss a single second of Maury Povich while waiting to cram a Fiesta Southwestern Ranch Bacon Spicy Beef Jerky Slim Jim Burger with extra bacon crumble and a side of bacon juice down your fucking throat. Who’s the real father of the baby? I don’t know but there’s a good chance he’s in back “cooking” my “food.”

We deserve to have our economy collapse. We deserve Donald Trump as our President. We deserve Jersey Shore and the Kardashians. We are pathetic. It’s over.

Awesome!

So anyway, I’m cutting this piece of paper on Friday with an X-acto knife when all of a sudden I see the side of my finger sitting there on the table? I looked at it and thought “Why aren’t you on my hand anymore?” The arrogant piece of finger just stared back at me like “What are you gonna do about it?”

Touché finger piece, you win this one.

Well, I posted the photographic evidence and the videos, so my work here is pretty much done. No need to say anything more about this, goodnight.

Fine, I’ll try to get through this without killing myself but I’m just warning all you babies out there, the next baby I see is getting punched in the face. I know it seems harsh but you can blame E-Trade and especially these nightmarish commercials directed by Satan for Hawk Ford. Yeah that’s right, I now hate ALL babies, way to go TV!

I didn’t like it when E-Trade hired magical talking babies to peddle their website, but at least the E-Trade kid doesn’t look like an angry, deformed baby who just dunked its own face into a bucket of acid before running after you with a knife. Jesu Christo, how did this shit get approved?!? How is it possible that somebody at the ad agency didn’t say “Well, obviously we can’t show the client this, what else do you got?” Why not just hire the fucking baby from Eraserhead for your next round of commercials?

Oh, and by the way baby, why don’t you shut your mouth and leave the car-buying decisions to the people actually paying for the God damn car. You get no say in the matter so keep your snarky opinions to yourself until YOU can afford to buy your own car, you creepy Michael-Myers-mask-looking piece of shit!

I think I’m going to be sick.

Finally Chevy has figured out a way for you to NEVER escape the incessant, meaningless blathering barfed out by all of your “friends” on Facebook. You never said more than two words to these people when you sat next to them in algebra 20 years ago, but thanks to the magic of Facebook, you now have an up-to-the-minute update of every dumb thing their fat kids do and say.

Well, guess what? Your once peaceful drive home from the adult book store is now going to be filled with wacky anecdotes about microwaved Legos and pancakes found under rugs. Good luck getting a boner after that.

I invite you all to take a look at your Facebook “news feed” right now and imagine what it would sound like to have it read to you by your car. For example, if I was driving right now I would learn that “After shopping all afternoon with my kids, it’s safe to say I am NOT a ‘shop till you drop’ kind of person!!! LOL!”

Way to go society!

Shivers.

OK, before Rick Bayless tries to sue me, let me CLEARLY state, I DO NOT think there is anything sexual or technically inappropriate between Rick and his daughter Lanie… however let me also CLEARLY go on record and say ewww.

I mean come on Rick, you are obviously unable to see what everyone else sees. These two giggle and flirt back and forth worse than Jerry Seinfeld and Sheila on the “Shmoopy” episode. You hang up first. No, you hang up first. No, YOU hang up first. It’s creepy.

What’s that, you don’t agree? Well try this one on for size… there is an episode of Chef Bayless’ program “Mexico – One Plate at Time” where he decides to dig a fire pit in his yard while Lanie yucks it up inside, pretending to know what the fuck she’s talking about. Rick strips down to his wife beater (a woman’s wife beater, not the cool ‘Raging Bull’ kind) and gets all sweaty shoveling in the dirt. It’s borderline gay porn. Meanwhile, Lanie is blabbing on about some bullshit in the kitchen and actually says “Speaking of hot, let’s see how my dad is doing.”

[the link has been found – 9:25 into this clip – It’s 100 times creepier than I remembered!]

Take a moment to re-swallow your vomit.

Let’s take the whole father/daughter sexual tension horribleness out of the equation and talk about the other thing wrong with this picture. Why the fuck am I listening to a 13-year-old tell me how to make salsa? You know what Lanie, thanks but I think I can take it from here. Aren’t you missing a therapist appointment or something?

The owners of this dog might like to believe their dog is saying “I love you” but, in reality, this poor dog is saying “Please stop saying those words to me, I don’t know what they mean, I just want to watch a little TV on this romantic four post bed before I go take a shit in the living room. I hate yoooooooooooooooouuuuuuuuuu!”

You know how I know dogs can’t say I love you? Because you never see videos of Mexican dogs saying “Te Amo” or Chinese dogs saying “我愛你.” Apparently dogs can only express love in English. More evidence that AMERICA RULES! Yeah, that’s right, America is the only country that speaks English!

Why don’t these genius talking dogs ever proclaim anything other than their unconditional love for their jackass owners? You never see a cute Youtube clip of some dog saying “Let’s go for a walk” or “Toss me that tennis ball” or “I honestly believe Lee Harvey Oswald did, in fact, act aloooooone!”

Remember those kids in high school who would randomly wear their clothes backwards one day as some sort of sad protest against prom or something? They were the kind of nerds who didn’t try to disappear into the background but would instead call jocks “homo erectus” right to their face about two seconds prior to being tied up with their own 25 foot Dr. Who scarf and stuffed into a book bag. These are the same people who are now charging you $500 to eat menus and inhale walnut air. The nerds have won.

Sorry, I know this makes me an “old man” who “hates fun” but I find molecular gastronomy to be insufferable and fucking annoying. I honestly think I would rather *GULP* go to dinner at Guy Fieri’s house than have some asshole sell me a frozen raisin that was aged for two weeks in a room with a stereo playing nothing but Belle and Sebastian.

Fuck you and your stupid edible menu. Oh my GOD, I relate to nothing!