Air travel etiquette for jackarses

For the most part my recent holiday travels were thankfully uneventful. However, being that the stupid effing amateurs come out in droves this time of year and frustratingly annoy their fellow travelers, I thought I would compile a handy list of air travel tips for jackasses:

1. If you have never before traveled by airplane or are just a fricking idiot who can’t remember basic security protocol, then please for the love of gawd go to the TSA website and familiarize yourself with the security screening process BEFORE you get to the airport. No one wants to be log-jammed at the security checkpoint because you don’t know what you can and can’t bring on the plane or what you can and can’t wear through the metal detector. Read up and get with the program you daft f*ckwit(s)!

2. When traveling with a child do not allow your little demon seed to repeatedly hurl metal lunch boxes 15 feet across the airport terminal and past the heads of your fellow travelers. Either put a leash on your little brat or keep him at home until such time as he is capable of traveling in a far more civilized manner.

3. If your husband is randy old tomcat who is in the habit of checking out other woman while waiting to board the airplane and you are an insecure old cow, please refrain from trying to make out with said husband on the plane’s sky bridge. Doing so is gross and desperate. There are children around for gawd’s sake. And no one is the least bit interested in your crusty old man with the meandering eyes so get over it and let the rest of us board the effing plane!

4. When boarding the airplane, please find your seat, quickly stow your luggage in the overhead bin and then get the f*ck out of the way of the other passengers who are trying to board. If you are less than cognizant of the fact that those 200 passengers behind you can’t get on the mofo plane because you are blocking the aisle, then perhaps you should take a bus or just stay the heck at home.

5. If you are inconsiderate enough to travel with a young child that you cannot control and said child proceeds to scream for the entire duration of a three hour flight, then please know that you will majorly piss off your fellow passengers. Either give your child a pacifier, a nice bottle (of whiskey), or shove a big juicy tit in its mouth. Just make it shut the f*ck up! Or refer to #4 and just stay the hell at home.

6. While flying if you talk loudly, fart repeatedly, recline your seat into the lap of the person behind you, ram into other passengers while walking up and down the aisle, invade the space of the person(s) seated next to you, or otherwise annoy other passengers then you are a rude and inconsiderate arsehole who has no business flying and you need to stay the EFFING HELL AT HOME!

Now do I make myself clear? Good. Now don’t make me tell you again you friggin’ jackwagon!

***************************

Happy Holidays my lovelies!
xo The Empress

Fame Whoring – Paris Hilton edition

Just when you think that ditzy, oh-so-innocent celebutard otherwise known as Paris Hilton has FINALLY gone away and crawled back under the rock from which she came, she remerges to plaster her fame-whoring ass all over yet another asinine business venture. And no boys and girls, it’s not an all natural, non-pharmaceutical version of columbian tang that she is hawking.

This time P. Hilty has decided (being the incredibly knowledgeable motorcycle expert that she is) that she would go out and get her very own little team on the world motorcycle championship circuit. …Because she needed a seemingly legitimate excuse to parade around in skin tight motorcycle costumes without obviously appearing like the super skanky Barbie wanna-be that she is.

From 2011-2013 the SuperMartXe VIP by Paris Hilton team will embarrassingly compete in the 125cc racing category all kitted out in hot pink and blue motorcycles emblazoned with her name. …No word yet whether or not the team’s racing uniforms will be rhinestone bedazzled with fluffy hot pink feathered trim.

Paris was so freaking excited about the whole ridonkulous deal that she tweeted “I can’t believe I have my own racing team! So cool! :)” And she even committed to attending at least five actual races during the next season.

Wow! Five whole races. How in the world will she ever manage to fit them in between all the crazy partying, paparazzi bribing, shopping, champagne swilling and raunchy table dancing?

Someone please make her go the effing hell away …once and for all …I’m just saying…

Fun with words – Naughty Bits edition

Recently while I was waiting at an appointment I had the rare opportunity to peruse the chick magazines, you know the ones with all the silly fashion, sex and relationship advice. One particular magazine had an article featuring the pet names that couples call each other’s naughty bits. And being the word perv that I am, you know I was all over that article like butter on bread.

(WARNING: For those of you with lily white virginal eyeballs and G-rated sensibilities, PLEASE STOP READING NOW. This post contains LOTS and LOTS of FUN NAUGHTY WORDS!!!)

The pets names listed ranged from flattering (king kong ) to amusing (dongola). However, I was much surprised to read that one guy actually admitted to regularly referring to his partner’s lady bits as a ham wallet …and that he was still alive and breathing with his wiener and both balls intact.

There were a few other names listed for the male and female nether regions but not nearly enough to satisfy my somewhat demented dirty little mind. So, I went in search of additional penis and vadge nicknames, all pervy of course, and here is what I found:

FEMALE-
Fur burger, meat curtain, butcher slit, fish taco, squish mitten, cooter, oyster ditch, pork steeple, meat locker, clunge, spam purse, cod pouch, finger hut, tampon socket, hatchet wound, cum dumpster, and honey pot.

MALE
Wang, schlong, willy, prick, johnson, shaft, pecker, boner, dong, knob, woody, chubby, pork sword, stiffy, tool, phallus, sausage, pocket rocket, trouser snake, one-eyed wonder worm, tube steak, pee-pee, mutton dagger, purple-headed yogurt slinger, meat whistle, and tallywacker.

And now that I have corrupted all of your saintly minds, please go forth and have a fantabulous week!
xo The Empress


PS: I also want to say thank you so much for all of your recent support regarding Miss Poopy as well as for hanging in there while my attention has been diverted away on a major work project. And to all of the lovely new readers, WELCOME!

Somebody tried to poop on my parade

Recently I was incredibly stoked to be named Blog of the Week over at I am Fickle Cattle. Fickle bestowed this awesome honor on both me and my totally cool bloggy friend Simple Dude. And this special honor became that much sweeter when several of you were kind enough to leave congratulatory comments and recommendations to other readers.

Unfortunately the fun little high that particular recognition brought on ended up being rather short-lived. All because some rude person decided it might be fun to poop on my parade.

Basically someone now referred to as “Miss Poopy” felt that instead of saying nothing at all, that the kind thing to do was to say that she wouldn’t follow The Ranter’s Box because it contains too much information and it gives her a headache.

Now call me overly sensitive or just a plain old big baby, but I kind of understand what Taylor Swift must have felt like when Kanye West dissed the music award she received. Seriously, who does that shit?

And while I admit that not everyone is going to enjoy my blog or want to become a follower, was it really necessary for Miss Poopy to hurt my feelings by publically saying that my blog sucks and induces headaches?

Then add the fact that Miss Poopy also basically insulted Fickle Cattle for him having chosen me as one of his Blogs of the Week. I mean here is a guy who reads tons of blogs, has over 700 followers and is generous enough to help pimp out some of his fellow bloggers, and yet there is some inconsiderate jackwagon rudely disparaging his recommendations.

Was all that really necessary? Or is Miss Poopy really just a nasty, stupid, smelly effing cow who is jealous for not having received similar recognition?


********************

PS: Please know that I have missed you, all of your wonderful comments as well as the opportunity to read your lovely blogs while I have been away slogging it out at my paying career.
xo The Empress

Let’s pretend it’s November 31st and celebrate!

A few days back, on what would have been November 31st if there were indeed such a day, The Ranter’s Box happily crossed the six month mark in the blogosphere. And while the past week or so has been a bit of a blur, I couldn’t be more pleased to have achieved this milestone.

I consider myself incredibly blessed to have become acquainted with all of you and in many ways you are like this wonderful new family that is now a part of my life. It brings me great joy whenever I sign onto Blogger and discover new readers or see all of the many comments you regularly leave regarding my posts. And when it comes to recognition, you my lovelies, are beyond generous. Thank you for each and every one of the kind, funny and awesome awards you have bestowed upon my snarky arse.

Please know that while I adore blogging and hope that someday I am fortunate enough to find a way to make blogging a lucrative career, there are times where I will be missing in action for several days or so. This is only because my paying career sometimes requires every ounce of my time and energy -- and not because I have forgotten about you. So, I hope you will understand and continue to hang in there even when my posts occasionally become sporadic.

In the meantime, thank you for all of your bloggy love and may you enjoy an amazing and wonderful week!
xo The Empress