Barenaked Ladies came on the radio the other day. I hate the Barenaked Ladies. So I’m suing the radio station. Hey, don’t laugh at me, dumbass lawsuits are all the rage these days. Apparently anyone and everyone are responsible for catering to my own personal wants and needs. The world does revolve around me, after all.
You see, I’ve recently succumbed to a worldwide epidemic of self-absorbed stupidity. Its symptoms include a lost sense of all logic, expecting everything to go your way, and throwing a tantrum when it doesn’t. This is a very serious illness that often manifests itself in incessant whining and legal proceedings. Here are some examples:
A Florida woman sued Universal Studios for emotional distress on the grounds that their “Halloween Horror Nights” attraction was “too scary.” The Orlando theme park really should have been more specific in their title. They should have known that “Horror Nights” could have been interpreted to mean “Not Scary At All” by certain individuals suffering from this illness.
A California man sued two Las Vegas hotels and casinos for allowing him to gamble away his money while he was intoxicated. True, drunken mistakes are what give Las Vegas its charm, and without them the city would collapse into itself and cease to exist, but that doesn’t mean the alleged drunks should have to suffer the consequences of their actions.
Last summer in Colorado two reckless seventeen-year-old girls thought it would be a “nice” idea to bake batches of cookies and leave them on their neighbors’ porches with notes that read, “have a great night!” One neighbor sued the girls for $900 in hospital bills after the shock of the vicious invasion gave her an anxiety attack. Damn hoodlums delivering cookies. They could have killed her!
Last month an Ohio man filed a lawsuit against NBC for a segment on Fear Factor that involved eating dead rats. His handwritten lawsuit complained that the images made him physically ill and caused dizziness that led him to walk into a doorway and hit his head. He’s asking $2.5 million, and with good reason. To Hell with free speech and “changing the channel;” that bruise on his head probably really hurt!
Seriously, bumping your head sucks, didn’t they think about that? Reality show producers need to take the faint of heart into account. Those disclaimers at the beginning of the show aren’t good enough. They need to stop creating material that certain viewers may find offensive. Some might call that censorship. I call it damage control.
These are just a few illustrations of what can happen when this illness is not properly addressed. While there is no known cure, and treatments are still being developed, there are two options, very different in nature, for people who are forced to deal with someone afflicted with this condition.
One is to tell them to quit their damn whining. Remind them that they don’t always get what they want, but that it’s no reason to be such a sniveling little crybaby. It might help to point out what an embarrassment they are to their friends and loved ones. Sometimes a simple punch in the mouth will do the trick, but be careful: they may turn around and sue you.
The second option is more a means of prevention and should be reserved for extreme situations. It involves standing perfectly still in one place, not speaking, eating, drinking, or breathing. The idea here is to avoid doing anything that might offend the infected person(s). Sure, you may die from lack of food, water, or oxygen, but sometimes the only way to avoid offending some of these dingbats is to be dead.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go pursue my lawsuit against the radio station. Or maybe I should sue Barenaked Ladies for making such crappy music. Or maybe I could sue the mothers of the band members or giving birth to them! And once I’m done with that, I’m going to sue all the other courtroom-addicted morons of the world for infecting me with this crippling disease.