I JUST WON THE LOTTERY!
and they'd be like, "Oh great. You just wait, all your relatives are gonna come asking for your money and then the government is gonna come asking for your money. And then the money is gonna ruin your life. And you'll say you're gonna spend it on others but really you're just gonna end up buying 25 Big Macs a day. And then you're just gonna hate your life and you're gonna end up lonely and afraid and crying yourself to sleep every night. . ." woh woh woh.
It's actually QUITE annoying. I mean, you could be on cloud nine and they'll just drag you 6 feet under with their crappy attitudes. I mean, sure, winning the lottery comes with it's baggage, but really people, quit raining on parades! Let people just be happy about something before coming in with your insanely moody blues. Let them figure it out on their own, or at least don't be such a D-bag about it.
And for the record, no, i did not win the lottery. But i wish i did ;)
. . . cue the Debby Downer: "WHY CAN'T YOU JUST BE CONTENT WITH WHAT YOU HAVE? IT'S SILLY TO HOPE FOR THAT. GOD DOESN'T LOVE PEOPLE WHO WIN THE LOTTERY. BESIDES, NO ONE EVER REALLY WINS WHEN IT COMES TO THE LOTTERY." Thank you. No really. I get it. Thank you. Now go away. No, I know what you meant. And I knew what you meant the last 20 times. Thank you. Just go.
Why is it that no matter how happy people are, whether it be about a new job, a new outfit, a new relationship, a new baby, a new car, starting a charity, getting married, a new step to success, a good diagnosis, etc. SOMEONE has to be the bearer of bad news? I feel like if being a full-time bearer of bad news was a job, we wouldn't be struggling in this economy.
For those Debbie Downers, I ain't mad at'cha. Wait. Maybe I am. Just a little. No. A fair amount. I wish you'd grow up and quit badgering me and my friends. . . and everyone really. Take a walk outside, look at all the things and people surrounding you, and learn to be appreciative of something already.
Oh, and if you're gonna have to bring others down with your not-so-kind words, maybe do it face to face or in an email and not on Facebook. K? :D
> end rant <
2 comments:
So, speaking of Debbie Downers who love to rain on new-baby-parades, when my mom's eggo was prego with Xanthe, she called up a friend that she'd known for about 10 years to let her know the baby's gender.
The conversation went something like this:
Kelley's Mom: I had the ultrasound; we found out the baby's sex!
Kelley's Mom's Friend: Ooo, is it a boy or a girl?
Kelley's Mom: It's a girl!
Kelley's Mom's Friend: Oh, you must be so disappointed...
Kelley's Mom: *Click*
No joke, they have not spoken since that day. I guess there are some risks associated with downing the wrong person. (...Which sounds like I mean eating the wrong person, but I don't Cannibalism is wrong, everyone knows that.)
P.S. The lady's name, I kid you not, is Dorothy. Say it with me now everybody, "Dorothy Downer". Can't make these things up, folks.
Oh you sneaky, sneaky punctuation; there should totally be a period after, "...but I don't[.]"
Darn you typos. Darn you to heck.
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