You know what I despise more than waking up to a jack hammer? People who question factual information. People who, for whatever reason, can't seem to grasp what they were told is indubitably wrong--so, so wrong.

Some people wouldn’t believe Earth were round if I threw a globe at their head; pulled up every web site dedicated to the science of Earth’s round circumference as well as having Christopher Columbus himself avow it's not flat from his grave.

I blame Wikipedia for everything. Someone sit’s at home changing information ever so slightly during the commercial breaks of Wheel of Fortune.

The funny thing is, it’s usually one friend (we’ll call her Karen) who can't believe anything you say, just one. You then have to ask yourself, what book is Karen reading or newscast is she watching? Where in the hell did she hear Regis Philbin was a woman and Pluto is an orbiting Altoid?

If there were several people claiming this propaganda—an instance you could actually contest the information—it would make logical sense; however, it’s just one person against my senior year knowledge.

I have given up on Karen. I never argue anymore; it gets me nowhere. Sometimes I forget Karen has these problems. Finding myself set up for imminent failure, I still have word vomit and continue to toss in my own jargon of what I know to be truth.

Saying “no, but the DNA test said he is the father,” gives me the chills.

Chiming in with her alleged Harvard graduate brain, she claims DNA tests have been proven irrevocably erroneous; something she read somewhere or heard from someone. Right.

When Karen is around, I stick to discussing surface things which are perceptible. You may hear us talking about grass because we are sitting on it and if need be, quickly I can pluck two blades to prove it’s green due to photosynthesis. Raising an eyebrow, she notes it is not photosynthesis, simply food coloring. You see? There is no triumph with Karen.

Regardless, whatever reason this personality type needs to be in the right so often, I would rather sew my head to a rug than have to argue another story. Nail polish remover is not another salient form of alcohol and candle wax cannot be used for eyebrows.

Bottom line, I never win. You may as well finish that sentence with: “I read it in The Onion.” At least that is reputable false information.


  1. nice post! yes, that was in Huntington! i miss it!!

  2. hahah you are funny but you are very right!!

    One Love,

  3. Yes, I see that guy on Main Street from time to time. haha.

    and thank you!




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