December hateful.....

December Hatefuls: Day 1

Christmas music.  I hate it.  In my opinion, there is only 1 good Christmas song and it is Chuck Berry's "Run, Run Rudolph".  In my head and perhaps only in my head, that is a fact and the whole hearted, fully thought out truth. 

But its not so much that I hate Christmas music that has me pissed off this morning.  Nope.  I read an article in the newspaper this morning about a radio station that has decided to drop playing at least one song because it might offend someone in the #metoo movement.  That's what I am most hateful for today.  This radio station doesn't want to offend the 7 idiots wearing vagina hats that doesn't like that song.

I remember a day when, if a song came on the radio that you didn't like, you turned the dial.  That's it.  Nobody was offended.  Nobody felt the need to write a 1000 word essay into their local newspaper's op/ed page revealing their true feelings about how a song could be so hurtful. 

I did research on this.  I asked 100 people, "If a song comes on the radio that you do not like, what do you do?"  Not one person said, "I find time to be offended."  Not fucking one! 

We've gotten to the point in this country where we are looking for things to be offended by then think  everyone else on the globe has to understand and offer up some empathy statements.  If shit like a horrible Christmas song offends you, you aren't paying attention.  If shit like a horrible Christmas song offends you, do something useful and go fuck yourself.  Nobody wants to hear you talk for 30 minutes about how you find the song "Baby its Cold Outside" offensive.  Nobody.

Better than that, how do you find the time to to be offended by a fucking song?  Why do you feel it necessary to take time out of your day, to form an opinion, stew on it, let it get you so worked up that you deem it necessary to demand that people hear you out?  Nobody cares... its you... its a dumb fucking song.... turn the station or shut the radio off.  Quit complaining or I am going to send one of Santa's elves on steroids over to your house to kick the ever loving shit out of you with an ax handle.  When that happens, you can be offended.  Until then, shut your god damned yule hole and be thankful.

My name is Brice Dudley, and I approve this message.  If this offends you, nobody cares.