By Melissa Janisin of goodnessmadness.com

I mean, I had to tell her she was fat. Because obviously she didn’t know. Posting photos of herself in that bikini like she was just some regular person, right? So I’m all like, dude, might want to rethink the outfit. And she’s all like, fuck you, troll, health at every size and blah blah blah. Like I’m really a troll. Like I live underground or something. I mean, sure, I’m in the basement sometimes, but that’s where my computer is. DUH.

So I try to explain to her that bikinis are only meant for very thin women, like 110 pounds max, but she’s like ignoring me now. Which is a shame, because she’s actually really pretty. I’d have asked her out, you know? I mean, if I knew she was going to work on her weight. So her loss, if you ask me. She could have had a date but now all she has is a bunch of phonies telling her ,“Way to go, girl!” and “You look so happy!” Whatever, I’m over it.

But hey, did you see that story about the mom whose house burned down and she barely managed to rescue all her kids? I mean, excuse me? You have no business having kids if you’re just going to let your house burn down, am I right? They said it was some electrical thing, but like, you need to be able to prevent that. So I commented that maybe if you weren’t texting on your phone all the time or checking Facebook, you could have been paying attention and seen the signs.

I just wanted her to think about that for next time. But people don’t pay attention anymore; they really don’t. Hey, maybe if it’s just you living alone, you can ignore potential electrical situations. But once you have kids, you need to get your shit together. SMH, for real.

What, me? No, I don’t have kids, you know that. Not like I couldn’t have. I could have had a kid lots of times, I just knew I wasn’t ready. I mean, I’m only 37, so there’s time. I figure once my career really takes off, that’s when I’m going to settle down. Right now, I’m just too focused on my work, you know?

Well, no, my work has nothing to do with the internet. God, can you imagine? What if it was, like, your job to comment on the internet? I’d lose my mind, hahaha.

Well, yeah, I comment here and there. But nothing major. It’s just that sometimes you can’t help but say something. I mean, some people are just asking for it. Like those cops who paid for that little kid’s cancer treatments. What do you want, a medal? Let me pat you on the back, pal. I mean, who wouldn’t spend all of their free time doing fundraisers and walks and what have you? Like I said, as soon as my career takes off, I’m probably going to start doing all kinds of stuff like that. It’s just the right thing to do, obviously.

I’ll tell you one thing I’m totally sick of, and that’s these so-called “satire” articles. I post one well-written comment and everyone’s all like, dude, it’s satire. Likely excuse. Don’t cover up your stupidity by pretending you were only joking. I mean, we’re not a bunch of idiots out here.

Hey, can you hold on for a minute? The old broad is asking me something.

“What? NO! You know I hate the pizza rolls with sausage in them! Why do you even buy that shit? I don’t care, I’m not eating them. Make me something else. Fine. Bagel Bites are fine, but they better be the pepperoni ones.”

GOD. I’m back. I swear, that woman does not listen. I mean, I know she’s my mom and all, but sometimes you just have to show tough love, am I right? Never mind, I know I’m right. Obviously, right?

*****

About the Author

Melissa Janisin is a writer, reader, baseball fan and library patron, living and working in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Follow her on Facebook, Twitter, or at her blog, Goodness Madness.