Category: Ass Chapping

Well I obviously have not posted anything new for while and I am sure that everyone has been asking themselves what will chap his ass next. Today I am going to answer that question for you. Now I am not claiming that I in any way know how to accomplish every task that someone presents me with, but I am reasonably sure that I can figure out most average problems that occur on a day to day basis. I have come to discover lately that most people can’t figure out the average problem presented to them. This is of course why incompetence chaps my ass.

Where do I come across incompetence? Everywhere. Under what circumstances do I come across it the most? Driving. Now I could easily devote about four blog posts ripping to shreds those moronic, fat, cigarette smoking, stupid women (sorry, but most often this holds true), but that is neither here nor there. Well actually it is here, but I would rather rant about other situations of incompetence as well.

One place that you witness a lot of incompetence is at the wonderful FU. In my experience this incompetence has not occurred in the classroom, but in dealing with the group of bozos in the housing office. Why are these people so incompetent? It probably has to do with the fact that they base their policies off of what they think “works” rather than listening to the students. I can see how that could be a foolish idea though. I mean listening to students…I guess that is just too smart for them. The incompetence in this department does not end with the fact that they are completely out of touch with the students…it goes much deeper. How deep you ask? How about forcing unpaid labor so the employees they do pay can smoke outside all day. They feel it is necessary to force students to clean, not just get rid of their stuff at the end of the year, but clean their room upon moving out. Now this could almost be accepted if they actually had the places clean when we moved in instead of having to deal with the dust bunny infestation. So after they are too lazy to at least clean the place up a little bit, they then expect you to pay for random damages that four students before you have already paid. But the damages are so clearly “new” after you have been living there that they might as well pick up an extra $125 per student. So FU all the time right back at you housing.

Incompetence can be found in one’s own home too. Now people over the age of fifty have an excuse to struggle with technology occasionally as they did not have the privilege of growing up with such things. However, this excuse goes right out the window when there is just a complete lack of effort to try to figure out a problem. The solution: just guess at it and figure it out. This section is rather brief as I do not want to offend individuals both under and over the age of fifty who have struggled with technology. However, I will share with you my favorite solution to a problem. Turn it on.

Now we come back to the driving. Is it really that hard to drive in the right lane if you are going at or under the speed limit? Is it that much extra effort for someone to turn right on red? Is it impossible to simply pay attention to the task at hand instead of trying to do five other things? The answer, thanks to a failure on the part of 90 percent of society, is yes. One part people mixed with one part motor vehicle is the simplest recipe for incompetence…or maybe just plain stupidity.

Even though I have gone through just a sample of my issues with incompetence I have yet to entirely explain why it chaps my ass so much. The explanation really is quite simple. Most of the time when I am using my problem solving skills or attempting to simply perform any given task, I am guessing as to what the solution might be or just doing the task the correct way, but nevertheless I am putting forth some sort of effort. The root cause of most incompetence is a complete lack of effort, which could easily be solved if people were not so lazy and actually did something productive with their insignificant lives. Putting forth even the smallest amount of effort can effectively eradicate I would guess 75% of most incompetence. However, there are just some failures of people out there to make sure that remaining 25% sticks around.

(Note: In writing this post I did a Google image search for incompetence…the picture that appears most frequently is of Barack Obama)


chautauqua lake

I know how unlikely this may seem, but there is nothing for me to write about this week. Why is this? Well I am currently at my favorite place, Chautauqua Lake. This means that there is absolutely nothing to chap my ass since I am at the greatest place ever and also I am obviously not cutting grass.

sunset on the lake

the lake

Fourth of July fireworks

the famous Chautauqua Belltower

So this past weekend I had the privilege to travel to Washington D.C. to visit my brother and by visit I mean move him to his new apartment in either 104 degree heat or pouring down rain and wind strong enough to blow over a chain link fence, but I got my fix of Chick-Fil-A so all is well. During my mom’s and my drive over, it of course became necessary to use my GPS once we got onto the beltway. To sum up this experience with some others, my GPS somehow manages to show emotions…by insulting me.


During my travels it is inevitable that a turn will be missed and my GPS will start saying in its traditional American female voice “recalculating.” Hearing this word is demeaning on quite a few levels. First off, I am obviously a terrible judge of what four hundred feet means while driving. Then you also start to realize that this is a simple device that shouldn’t make things this complicated. And then there is the tone. Whether or not the creators of my Garmin intended for this to happen is up for debate, but my GPS gets this degrading irritated tone when she says the word recalculating. I’m glad that I have made life so much more challenging for her that it has to get snippy with me for taking the wrong exit out of a roundabout.

Well after getting back on the right track, my GPS’s mood instantly changes back to her normal calm self, until we reach our destination. Whether or not she uttered recalculating is irrelevant because she will still announce “arriving at destination” in the most sarcastically excited voice you can imagine. I am not sure if this comes as a result of her having memory of some of my previous travels where it took quite some time to finally reach my destination, or if she just thinks that me arriving at any destination in general is a miracle…what an ass chapping jerk.

Well last time I was hard at work my mind wandered to much happier thoughts than what chaps my ass…instead I to got ponder the craziness that is 80’s music. However, my happy thoughts were cut short today and my ass is chapped yet again. What caused it this time? Well most likely a bunch of 15 year olds that think they are cool and live by their own rules. Or it could have been a smattering of 18 year olds who did not want to display the fact that they in fact live one of the many West Virginia stereotypes. Or finally it could have been the overweight 40 year olds who are mad at the world. Why do I have such contempt for these people whom I hope eventually go to prison and have to clean up the mess that they once made. Well, sometimes in my profession I have to deal with the litter that these people create. This actually chaps my ass so much I often dream of a world where Gary the No Trash Cougar actually exists.

Two of the public places where I cut grass are next to some relatively heavily used roadways. So on the overweight 40 year olds’ after work drive back to their single story houses (because there is no chance that they waddle their fat selves up some stairs everyday), decide that after scarfing down their Big Mac and Biggie size Diet Coke that they will just throw it out the window to get back at the world for making them fat. On a side note, this is another thing that chaps my ass. Why are fat people so bitter towards the world as if it is the world’s fault that they are fat. This actually mostly applies to fat women as they are the most bitter ones, because fat guys are generally just funny. But anyways, yea these people just chap my ass because they think everyone else should just clean up their mess, and by everyone else I mean me.

The trash belonging to the 18 year olds varies a little bit but is a little more disgusting to have to deal with. As I mentioned earlier these punks want to hide the fact that they do in fact use more Skoal than major league baseball players. So to try to keep the stains off the side of their cars they just throw their Gatorade bottles full of dip spit out the window of their car, along with the empty can so their mom does not find out their child is not so innocent anymore. Well if they were worried about their child’s innocence, they should have kept a better eye on them at 15, which brings me to my last bit of ass chapping.

The 15 year olds use the basically public park that I cut grass at for everything. From the items I have found there it is safe to assume that these kids eat there, go there to drink their beer, light random stuff on fire there, fornicate there, and then run away naked after their fornication. Just imagine if you will what is has been like to see some of the remnants of these activities sitting in a field of grass. When I found the clothes there I thought for a second I was living the Left Behind series of books, but I digress. So some of this stuff I just refuse to pick up and just run over with the mower, but some I have left sitting there for over a year. Like last year I found a golf club leaning against a tree and I just left it there thinking someone would steal it, but no its still there. Anyways this nasty crap that these kids leave there for me to clean up really, really chaps my ass.

For some strange reason I actually had to spend the better portion of my day cutting grass yesterday…a whopping six hours. But I guess I can deal with that considering I am now basically done for the week. Anyways more to the point, during my unusually extended labor period yesterday I was focused on a place that is a veritable hell of ass chapping. What is this place you ask? Here it is called Centretown Fitness. At school it is known as the Herman W. Lay Physical Activities Center (which on a side note is the reason why whenever I try to get a pop I am stuck with Pepsi products thanks to that miserable and most likely fat individual). Sorry for that tangent there, but yes I am referring to any workout facility any where. For those of you wondering, my initial disgust with so many of these people can be traced back to conversations my brother Robbie and I had while lifting and simultaneously degrading each and every tool we saw. So without further delay I will be sharing with you my thoughts on these places that act as the venue for some of the most embarrassing and annoying occurrences.

The first person that I will begin with can be described simply as “the tool.” The tool is that one guy there who basically has every possible attribute that could make you want to throw a dumbbell at his face. The tool begins with his physical appearance…most notably the lack of sleeves on his shirt. Keep in mind here that when I say lack of sleeves I actually mean this guy has removed more shirt than he has left and his nipples are clearly visible from every angle. Next comes this guy’s exercise routine. It generally consists of a lot of dumbbell workouts that are meant to attract as much attention as possible whether it be from the constant grunting as he completes a rep or the loud booming sound as he throws the dumbbells to the ground proclaiming to everyone in the gym, “Yea, I’m done with that.” The tool also tries to prove to anyone lifting in his vicinity that he is more manly than them mainly through his interaction with others. I once asked a guy, “Hey are you done with those dumbbells?” To which he replied in what can only be described as the most burly Arnold Schwarzenegger voice without the accent as he could muster, “I’M THROUGH WITH THEM.” This pretty much completes my character sketch of the tool whose presence basically just chaps my ass whenever I am condemned to be within 10 feet of this guy.

The major ass chapping in the gym does not come from the tool surprisingly. No it comes from something much simpler, and yet somehow causes me more frustration with people than just about any other situation. What is this situation? It is the simple interaction between males and females. The males in this equation are generally the tools I have previously mentioned, but can be free of that description, only to be placed in an even worse category: the boyfriend who works out with his girlfriend. When I say work out with, I mean this guy takes his girlfriend through their workout and they each do the same exercises and spot one another. On a side note I’ll go ahead and explain this little ass chap. The tool will for some strange reason overlook all the guys that are lifting in the gym and proceed to ask the one girl to spot him for his bench press…doing the amount of weight that I weighed in fifth grade (this was before I got fat). So not only is this guy doing an embarrassingly low weight, he has now also attracted the attention of the one girl in the gym along with the attention of every guy in the gym who was most likely focused on that girl. Congratulations tool, you have given me some laughter to coincide with my chapped ass. Anyways back to the main focus of this rant, the couples. A guy does nothing except set himself up for failure by going through his workout with his girlfriend. First off, I am going to laugh at the two of you to begin with because this is just weird and annoying to everyone else around you that the two of you are so joined at the hip you can’t even do a separate workout and may quite possibly at some point be seen holding hands while on two treadmills next to each other (Thanks Julia). Now I will call those joined at the hip couples type one (basically just those annoying couples). Type two applies to the guy who is trying to impress his girlfriend, but probably should have picked a better venue. One of three bad outcomes can come from this situation. Number one, your girlfriend finds out that her boyfriend is for lack of a better term, a bitch. Number two, your girlfriend realizes that the only reason you are going through this with her is because you are incredibly insecure and trying to prove your manliness. Number three, your girlfriend sees that you actually are really strong, but realizes you are a tool at the sight of your nipples and bacne. Not to mention that any guy that sees this fantastic display of ass chapping will obviously be trying his hardest to make sure that the boyfriend is left with no manhood by the time he leaves.

Basically if you fail at presenting yourself as a normal human being in a workout setting, you will chap my ass. So boyfriends, save yourself the embarrassment, and tools, well tools just end your existence now because I guarantee you that your being a tool extends much farther than my veritable hell of ass chapping.

This has been another exciting installment to what chaps my ass while cutting grass.

let it begin

Since the summer after seventh grade, I have been gainfully employed in the field of grass cutting (yes that is supposed to be a pun). This is in fact the greatest job I could ask for. How is this so? Well for starters I begin work on the days that I feel like working when I feel like dragging myself out of bed. So on these special days at around ten in the morning the real fun begins. I put on my headphones, take off my shirt, and begin the mindless task of pushing or riding a mower around and across or up and down the endless green. Hidden here are three of the greatest joys of my profession. Number one: I get paid to listen to music. Number two: I never have to wear a shirt…it really chaps my ass that shirts are required in so many situations. Between sleeping and working, I am able to spend the vast majority of my day without a shirt on, a fact that never ceases to bring a smile to my face. It will be a sad day in my world when I can no longer go to work without a shirt on, but I digest (a small taste of what is to come in the ass chapping section). Number three: cutting grass really is a mindless task, so my mind is free to wander to generally one of two places.

Things That Chap My Ass
A lot of little things chap my ass. And when I say little things, I mean things that people do that just should not happen. Now, these things do not bother me to the point that these things ruin my day, but to the point that I think “why in the hell does this crap happen?” Sure, this may not be healthy and probably contributes to the fact that at age twenty I suffer from high blood pressure, but nonetheless my mind wanders here, and it is these ass chapping actions that I will share.

My World
My world is simply the title I will give to the place my mind wanders when I just zone out of a situation. I zone out a lot in general. In no way am I necessarily disinterested in what is going on around me, but I just slip away into a sometimes thoughtless world, a world of pure imagination, or a world full of thoughts and ideas I have based off of current conversations or observations.

So there it is. I spend generally between seven and fifteen hours a week cutting grass. This means I have at least seven to fifteen hours to dwell on what chaps my ass or to drift to my world, and the rest of the time to share these musings with you.