Living In A Small Town: Friday Night Down At Timeout Tavern

There’s a Saying that “There is No Pace to Hide in a Small Town.”, and the Saying couldn’t be Truer. It’s Not the Geographical Confines that make Hiding Hard it’s the Fact that the cliche is True Everyone Knows Everyone Else. Not only that but They know all About Their extended Family, Achievements, Down Falls, The Good, The Bad, and all the Bullshit In-between. You see Gossip is the Social Currency of the South that the Majority of the Population Banks On. I’m Not necessarily bitching Here because I knew this before Ever Moving to the Souther Country, and as such Deemed it as Something that comes with the Territory.

Last Year Timeout Tavern Opened providing the Town with it’s First Actual Bar and Local Drinking Hole. Not only did Timeout Tavern Open in a Small Town it did so During the Pandemic, and it Thrived mainly due to the Locals  being to Stupid for Their Own Good (I guess it falls Under doing Something Good (supporting Your Local Businesses) for the Wrong Reason (IT’S CALLED QUARANTINE). Anyway I digress. Luckily Timeout Tavern and Most of the Locals Survived the Brunt of 2020, and is Doing Better than Ever in all Honesty. I attribute the Tavern’s Success to One Main Factor and that being that Before Opening the Owner did Her Homework. She got a Lay of the Land if You Will Seeing what the Market was like and Moreover what People where Looking for. In a Small Town a Bar is more than just Booze it’s the fucking Entertainment Center for the Entire fucking Town.

            

You have to Remember Small Towns literally Shut the fuck Down at 6pm and there is No Night Life to Speak Of. Thus Timeout Tavern provides Booze Obviously as well as Food (Up until there Opening all We fucking had as a Stellar Chinese Takeout Restaurant as Our Sole Option), There Pool Tables since the Locals love Killing Time at the Pool Table, Special Events like Ladies Night, Karaoke Thursday Nights, and Live Bands every Saturday as Far as providing a Variety of Entertainment Options. It should also be Noted  that in a Part of the Country still Languishing in its Love of Tobacco the Owner researched the Local Laws Pertaining to Smoking, and Established a way for Patrons to Smoke inside.

Finally After My Wife and I were Fully Vaccinated and it had been the Full 2 weeks Post Second Injection had an Opportunity to Check Out the Timeout Tavern for Ourselves. It’s a Nice Bar nothing fucking Special, but its definitely not some Shitty Hole in the Wall. The Owner and Bartenders are about the Nicest fucking People I have ever had the Pleasant Surprise of Meeting. The Patrons are made of Locals from Town as well as the Neighboring Town being that its only 8 Miles Down the Road. Everyone is friendly as fuck and Buying Shots for One another is a Very Popular thing to Do. So Since My Wife’s Work Schedule has Relaxed a bit We have gotten into the Habit of Hitting Up Timeout Tavern on Friday Nights, and this Friday was No Exception.

 

The thing that Stands Out as Odd as far as Timeout Tavern is Concerned is in a Small Town full of Blue Collar Laborers (and Avid Church Goers) is the it gets Busier the Later it Gets, and Timeout Tavern is Open till 2 am or Later if Business is Booming so to Speak. I figured the Peak Hours would be from 5pm the Time most People Around Here Clock Out for the Day and perhaps 10:30-11:00 pm Tops. The Truth of the Matter is Timeout Tavern Business Starts Picking Up around 9:30 or so. It Picks up to the Point where there’re Three times as Many People there When We Leave then when We Arrived.

This Works well Because There need to be Enough People for Me to People Watch and be Entertained, but Once it Starts getting Crowded (like Saturdays with the Live Bands and All) I get fucking Irritated and Leave. I Don’t like People though I can Tolerate Them for Shorter Periods of Time. I hate being Packed in a Loud and Noisy Bar like fucking Cattle with No Personal Space to Speak Of. Also the More People that come is Directly related to the Volume of the Music in the Bar so More People the Louder the Music. I am a music Lover No Doubt but I can’t fucking Stand it being so Loud I can’t Hear what the fuck People are Saying to Not being able to Think Straight. To Me that’s Not Fun thats fucking Irritating to No End.

                 

When We Arrived there was a Handful of People there as Per Usual and We sat down across the Bar from a Big Old Country Boy and Who I believe was His Father (all I know is it was Some Silver Haired Weathered Looking Biker who He seemed Quite Comfortable with). Time went by uneventfully for the Most Part until a Moronic Immature Man-Child came in and got Too Drunk for His Own Good. Then the Sloppy Drunk Juvenile Jackass insulted the Poor Bartender when He ordered a Round of what is called “The Fat Hooker”. This Feeble Minded Fool is so Intoxicated He kept calling the Shot a “Fat Whore”, and then Announced to Everyone Near by that He had Never bought Anyone a Fat Whore, and that the Skinny Whore (the Bartender) was going to get it. The Bartender wasn’t taking shit from Anyone especially this  Binge Drinking Dipshit so She went on the War Path while the Rest of the Bar got Her Back.  Once the Dumbfuck put His Tail between His Legs and made a Quick Exist it turned out An Older Man there was the Drunken Dick’s Boss who Informed Us all that the Guy was a Bratty Son of a Bitch who has been Leeching Off His Dad like a White Trash Trust Fund Baby.

                      

Once the Drunken Idiot Issue was resolved everything went back to a Normal Bar and all was Well. Then at One Point I noticed the Big Old Country Boy Stood Up and Started to Walk Towards Me with Purpose. Due to His rather Large Size it Didn’t take Him long to End up Standing Directly Next to Me on the Right. Now here was what was Going on in My Mind at this Point:

  • Did I do Something to Offend/Insult this Guy and Now He wants to fucking Fight Me?
  • If He does want to Fight So Be It, but I’ll need an Equalizer due to the Drastic Size Differential so I’d most likely Hit Him with My Beer Bottle at the First Sign of Trouble.
  • Did I meet this Guy before at the Bar and was So Drunk I simply Forgot and Now I’m going to have to Try and Bullshit My way Through this Encounter?
  • Is This Guy just Simply trying to be Friendly and Introduce Himself?
  • Is This Guy a Cop?
  • Is This Guy going to Try and Sell Me Weed?

                  

Luckily for Me the Big Old Country Boy stated His Purpose/Intent without an awkward Delay. He asked Me if “My Mom was Still Out at The Plantation?” which at First Confused Me. I then Realized He meant My Mom’s Family Farm that was (even though My Mother hates to Admit it) an Actual Plantation. So I replied that Yes She was, and He goes on to tell Us that He’s a General Contractor Who Four Years Ago My Mom had Called to Repair a Botched Job with Her Upstairs Shower that Occurred During Installation. Not just that but He had come over to say Hello because He remembered My Wife and I from Our Wedding Photos Hanging in My Mom’s Farmhouse. Apparently My Mom had made a Lasting Impression that She is a Nice Lady, but You sure as Hell wouldn’t want to make an Enemy of Her. I definitely couldn’t Argue since He was Absolutely right My Mom can be Your Biggest Ally or Your Biggest Enemy. Simply My Mother is a fucking Force of Nature Not to be Contented with. I couldn’t Help finding it Funny that My Mom has some Serious Country Style Street Credit.

The Part of the Conversation that I found More than Entertaining (and Equally Interesting to Learn) was when He said “Your Mother called Me in for a Tiling Job for Her upstairs Shower that the Original Guy(s) fucked up, She Didn’t Say that Mind You, but You knew thats what She Meant.” You know You’re a fucking Bad ass when You Don’t even have to Drop an F-Bomb, Yet People Still Fully Understand What Your Saying and That You’re Not to be Trifled with. It reminds Me of Actor Kevin Spacey’s unique Brand of Controlled Rage where He Doesn’t Yell or Lash Out, but You know He’s Dead fucking Serious. At this point I decided to properly Introduce Myself and found out the Man’s Name is Wade. The Funny thing is Wade also informed us “I know where You live Too.” because He apparently liked the House We bought and was even Considering Possibly Buying it Himself. That and Wade Literally Lives on My Street which is Why He extended an Open Invitation to Stop on By when I see Him working in His Garage.

                   

My Wife told Wade the Story of How one of the First things We did Prior to Moving in Full Time was We replaced the Upstairs Toilet. Since We Don’t have Trash Pick Up of Any Kind We had to load the Crapper into the Car and Drop it Off at the Local Trash Dump. The Dump is actually a Parking lot filled with Various Dumpsters for Various Things (like Yard Waste, Old Tires, Metal etc.) and Two Trash Compacters that sit Side By Side. The Reason I mention this is to Distinguishing Our Dump from the Usual Trash Dump People think of thats Archers of Trash Piled High as Mountains. Once My Brother’s Wife’s Father came to Visit and Thought the Dump was the Typical Giant Putrid Mountain Range of Garbage, and got excited about Going Down to the Dump to Shoot Rats like He did as a Kid. The fucking Bizarre thing is When I was carrying the Toilet to the Appropriate Dumpster a Man who was a Complete Stranger approached Me and said “So You’re the Ones that Bought the House on Such and Such Street.” which Blew My Mind because again I never seen this fucking Guy before in My Life. That was My First Real Lesson in What living in a Small Town is Actually like in Reality.

       

After Our Chat Wade Returned to His Side of the Bar, and My Wife and I spent a few Minutes discussing How fucking Uniquely Strange Living in a Small Town is because Shit like this happens Frequently. I’m from Up North where You don’t even Look at Your Neighbor more or Less Conversate with Them. Where I grew Up You just ignored the Hell out of Your Neighbors under the guise that Neighbors are Typically More Trouble than They’re Worth. I then glanced at My Phone to check the Text Messages, and when I looked up I Saw Wade Pointing at My Wife in the Classic “You want a Shot I’m Buying.” Stance. My Wife Doesn’t start Drinking Until She is Ready In Spite of Being at a Bar so She Replied that She wasn’t Currently Drinking but Thank You just the Same. Wade then immediately Turned His Attention to Me and Boisterously Announced “I Know His Mom, I Know He Needs a Shot!” Which is the Country Version of Respectfully Busting Your Balls so I didn’t get all Bent About it in the Least. In Fact it was just the Opposite I said He was definitely correct and received My Free Shot.

                    

Later on the Bartender Stopped by and Dropped Off a Beer and told Me that it was from Wade. I thanked Wade Who responded by Saying Loudly “He’s a Good Guy and a Good Guy to know since He’ll be Running Everything Someday.” which is Pretty Accurate. What Wade was alluding to is He is a Contractor, My Mom’s Farm always has Work that Needs to be Done, and when the Time Comes I will be in Charge of it all. This is Almost Totally accurate accept Wade seems to be Unaware I have a Younger Brother Who will be Running the Farm Jointly with Me. The Irony is My Mother’s current and Long Time Contractor is getting Close to Retiring especially since His Life of Physical Labor is taking a Heavy Toll on His Health (His Back is Shot to Shit). So crossing Paths with Wade at this Time was Perfect since We will be needing a New Contractor in the Near Future once the Current one Calls it Quits at Last.

So as I have Adjusted (and still am Honestly) to Small Town Life I never thought I’d be the One to say it, But Small Town Life is Easy Living. I never in mY wildest fucking Dreams thought I’d ever Settle Down in a Small Town and Not Only Not Hate it, but Come to Embrace it as well. I suppose its Life’s way of Letting You Know that it’s in the Drivers Seat Regardless of What You may Think or have Planned.

Thanks For Reading,

   By Les Sober  

The F List Continues Baffling Its Creator

As I am sure even if they haven’t read it Readers are aware of two recent Posts Titled F to the U to the C to the K Parts 1 and 2. For those who may not be aware the original Post was a beyond basic “List” if you will of Fucks as in molded in the Fuck “That” format.

The 1st “List” as it were was only meant to be one singular post. Later after it was posted I slowly realized that I had forgotten a few things, and before I knew it I had another whole “Lists” worth of material.

At this point even My Dear Friend SpaceDog whom I have know more years than I can recall right now thought that had to be it.

And so did I.

We were Both Wrong.

The Cycle just reset itself and began once again spawning a 3rd and possibly final Fucks “List” (which is fucking Mind Boggling even for Me)

To say that these posts are not for f-yourblog curious Noobs. This only appeals to the small section of society that truly understand the “Lists”

No One  including Myself wouldn’t blame Anyone for skipping over this or the two prior “Lists” Not by a Long Shot. The One and Only SpaceDog Himself said reading the “Lists” made him feel and I quote “Dirty”

So for those Hardcore enough to withstand the Gruesome Grind I give you List Number 3 in the ongoing F to the U to the C to the K to the series.

The Fucks List Continues:

Fuck Tiny Houses. Fuck Waffle House. Fuck Tail Gating. Fuck the Illogical.

Fuck Colombo. Fuck Nursing Homes. Fuck Coal. Fuck Armed Conflicts.

Fuck Leaky Roofs. Fuck Head Colds. Fuck The Flu. Fuck Foot Notes.

Fuck Traffic Lights. Fuck Neighbors. Fuck Kenny G. Fuck Muzak.

Fuck Flutes. Fuck Ice Machines. Fuck Regulations. Fuck Teletubbies.

Fuck NPR. Fuck AM Radio. Fuck FM Radio. Fuck Satellite Radio.

Fuck Internet Radio. Fuck Chat Rooms. Fuck Shitty Tattoos.

Fuck Manic Panic. Fuck Body Piercing. Fuck Phil. Fuck Jail. Fuck Uniforms.

Fuck Fango. Fuck Fanta. Fuck Soy Milk. Fuck Coconut Water.

Fuck I Can’t Believe Its Not Butter. Fuck Substitutes. Fuck Tori Amos.

Fuck Mr. Brainwash. Fuck Cheap Toilet Paper. Fuck Hand Dryers.

Fuck Port-O-Pottys. Fuck Credit. Fuck Loans. Fuck PayDay Loans.

Fuck The Movie Ratings Board. Fuck Harmonicas. Fuck Loans.

Fuck Finances. Fuck Mortgages. Fuck Predatory Bank Loans. Fuck Loofas.

Fuck Body Spray. Fuck Spas. Fuck Unsolicited Advice. Fuck The Odds.

Fuck Playing It Safe. Fuck Droll Waiters/Waitresses. Fuck Last Call.

Fuck Spray Tans. Fuck Extensions. Fuck Push Up Bras.

Fuck Victoria’s Secret. Fuck Staring. Fuck Foreclosures.

Fuck Insider Trading. Fuck Slow Fast Food Service. Fuck Identity Theft.

Fuck Religious Conflicts. Fuck Home Schooling. Fuck Reunion Tours.

Fuck Being On The Spectrum. Fuck Quiet Riot. Fuck The Beetles. Fuck Yoko Ono.

Fuck Bob Dylan. Fuck The 70’s. Fuck The 90’s. Fuck Dull Knives.

Fuck Dog Racing. Fuck Horse Fighting. Fuck Coming Back Into Fashion.

Fuck Hair Salons. Fuck Sore Losers. Fuck Asshole Winners.

Fuck Dog Fighting. Fuck Gloating. Fuck Howie Mandel.

Fuck Condo Associations. Fuck Middle Men. Fuck People’s Core.

Fuck Hot Yoga. Fuck Carbs. Fuck So Called Upscale Shit. Fuck Cell Towers.

Fuck Dust Bunnies. Fuck Shedding. Fuck Speed Limits. Fuck Spite.

Fuck Malice. Fuck Re Runs. Fuck Whitening Strips. Fuck Date Rape.

Fuck Someone Loves Someone Reality Shows. Fuck The Bachelor.

Fuck The Pick Up Artist Mystery. Fuck Jeff Foxworthy.

Fuck Larry The Cable Guy. Fuck Kevin Hart. Fuck Cialis. Fuck Zoos.

Fuck The Weinstein Brothers. Fuck Beard Art. Fuck Dog Shows.

Fuck Chris Jericho. Fuck Zack Saber JR. Fuck Deep Fried Butter.

Fuck Vince Vaughn. Fuck Decaf. Fuck Papa Johns. Fuck Bell Bottoms.

Fuck Kiss. Fuck Lowe’s. Fuck Property tax. Fuck Non Caffeinated Soda.

Fuck Tim Allin. Fuck Ray Romano. Fuck Jazz. Fuck Noise Bands.

Fuck Synthesizers. Fuck Drum Machines. Fuck Unauthorized Bios.

Fuck Korn. Fuck Morrissey. Fuck Slutever. Fuck Humiliation. Fuck BP.

Fuck Second Rate Sushi. Fuck Tex Mex. Fuck Fusion Restaurants.

Fuck The Cost Of Living. Fuck Maritime Law. Fuck Rush Hour (Traffic).

Fuck Rush Hour Movies. Fuck Steven Seagal. Fuck Dolf Lungrin.

Fuck Jean-Claude Van Damme. Fuck Phish. Fuck The Grateful Dead.

Fuck Petrulli. Fuck Toe Rings. Fuck McRibs. Fuck Ambrosia Salads.

Fuck Jello Molds. Fuck Fruit In Jello. Fuck Fig Newtons. Fuck Flair.

Fuck Glitter. Fuck ARL. Fuck Contradictions. Fuck Cane Toads.

Fuck Fanny Packs. Fuck Snap Bracelets. Fuck Jelly Bracelets. Fuck Mullets.

Fuck Vanilla Ice. Fuck Las Vegas Residencies. Fuck Snake Oil Salesmen.

Fuck Chain Wallets. Fuck Hacks (as in People). Fuck Pokemon Go.

Fuck Cheap Liquor. Fuck Labels. Fuck Swamp Ass. Fuck Anal Leakage.

Fuck Gas Station Bathrooms. Fuck Skiing. Fuck Paddle Boarding.

Fuck Sorry Not Sorry. Fuck Granola. Fuck LOL. Fuck Fisting. Fuck Thrillers.

Fuck Food Porn. Fuck The Unknown. Fuck Love Seat. Fuck Snuggies.

Fuck Voter Tampering. Fuck Dental Vaneers. Fuck Golden Showers.

Fuck Foot Oder. Fuck Bad Breath. Fuck Hashtags. Fuck Lice. Fuck Herpes.

Fuck Bed Bugs. Fuck Bug Bombs. Fuck Trophy Fishing. Fuck Commands.

Fuck Slot Machines. Fuck Full Voice Mail Mailboxes. Fuck Mimosas.

Fuck Homelessness. Fuck Carbon Dioxide. Fuck Braces. Fuck Smoothies.

Fuck Human Resources. Fuck Spanish Fly. Fuck Roofies. Fuck Spyware.

Fuck The Cold. Fuck Vape Shops. Fuck Toe Sucking. Fuck Rhubarb Pie.

Fuck Smoothies. Fuck Fire Ants. Fuck Preconception. Fuck Cosmetics.

Fuck Assumptions. Fuck Evaluations. Fuck Opossums. Fuck Termites.

Fuck Elective Surgery. Fuck Pool Noodles. Fuck North Korea. Fuck 777.

Fuck Web Cams. Fuck Skype. Fuck Microsoft. Fuck Slavery. Fuck Karaoke.

Fuck Vacation Resorts. Fuck Itineraries. Fuck On Schedule. Fuck Profiling.

Fuck Drug Free Work Places. Fuck Netty Pots. Fuck Canned Raccoon Meat.

Fuck Pickled Eggs. Fuck Jerky. Fuck Grits. Fuck Dullards. Fuck Snap Chat.

Fuck The Close Minded. Fuck Vine. Fuck Crabs (Pubic Lice).

Fuck Speed Walking. Fuck Pegging. Fuck Cream Pies. Fuck 7-11.

Fuck Titty Fucking. Fuck Lutefisk. Fuck Canned Meats. Fuck Waste.

Fuck Tea Bagging. Fuck Gristle. Fuck Waste. Fuck Female Circumcision.

Fuck Vice Principlas. Fuck Rats. Fuck Boiled Chicken, Fuck Bottled Water.

Fuck Cheque. Fuck Pasties. Fuck Granny Panties. Fuck The Over Rated.

Fuck False Promises. Fuck Bait and Switches. Fuck Newark. Fuck Trenton.

Fuck South Orange Blossom Trail. Fuck Disney. Fuck Phone Solicitations.

Fuck The Police Athletic League.Fuck The Black Eyed Pea (Restaurant).

Fuck The War On Drugs. Fuck Addiction. Fuck Vices. Fuck CBD. Fuck SWAG.

Fuck Name Tags. Fuck Hospital Gowns. Fuck Social Functions.

Fuck Polities. Fuck Malt Liquor. Fuck The Cost Of Living. Fuck Love Bugs.

Fuck Medical Debt. Fuck Gnats. Fuck Pat Robinson. Fuck Christian TV.

Fuck Gentrification. Fuck Animal Testing. Fuck Mowing The Lawn.

Fuck Jessica Vaughan. Fuck Thomas Homan. Fuck Kirstjen Neilsen.

Fuck Pubic Hair. Fuck Clubs. Fuck Toupees. Fuck Gangs. Fuck The Alt-Right.

Fuck The Proud Boys. Fuck The “I’m Above That” Mentality. Fuck OMG.

Fuck Medical Capitalism. Fuck Pay Per View. Fuck The UFC.

Fuck Sea Monkeys. Fuck Angora. Fuck Corduroy. Fuck Ski Masks.

Fuck Inflatable Lawn Ornaments. Fuck Fake Xmas Trees. Fuck Candy Corn.

Fuck Chemical Warfare. Fuck Water Boarding. Fuck Glory Holes.

Fuck Cheerios. Fuck Table Side Guacamole. Fuck Lectures.

Fuck Thighty Whiteys. Fuck Frozen Rats. Fuck Kazoos. Fuck Mimes.

Fuck Circus Clowns. Fuck Broadway. Fuck Nay Sayers. Fuck Lasik.

Fuck Custom Contact Lenses. Fuck Artificial Vampire Teeth. Fuck Halo.

Fuck Body Modification. Fuck Call Of Duty. Fuck Gamer Chairs.

Fuck Gamers. Fuck Angry Birds. Fuck Words With Friends. Fuck Risotto.

Fuck Candy Crush. Fuck Zucchini. Fuck Invasive Species. Fuck DayQuil.

Fuck Sleep Paralysis. Fuck Red Tape. Fuck Paperwork. Fuck Trivia Crack.

Fuck Sleep Apnea. Fuck Escalades. Fuck Munich International Airport.

Fuck Preferred Customers. Fuck Yard Sales. Fuck Garnish. Fuck Liver Spots.

Fuck Varicose Veins. Fuck IVs. Fuck EKGs. Fuck Nose Hair. Fuck Dipping.

Fuck Cigar Lounges. Fuck Daring Not To Dream. Fuck IQ Tests. Fuck PTSD.

Fuck Bastardizing Dive Bars. Fuck Artificial Intelligence. Fuck  Hair Metal.

Fuck Political Science. Fuck Glam Metal. Fuck Poking (FB). Fuck Toe Rings.

Fuck Revenge Porn. Fuck Trickle Down Economics. Fuck The Boarder Wall.

Fuck Musicals. Fuck Natty Ice. Fuck Day Drinking. Fuck Paddle Boarding.

Fuck Grown Men Who Call Their Fathers “Daddy”. Fuck Mood Rings.

Fuck Promise Rings. Fuck Las Vegas. Fuck Atlantic Shitty. Fuck Dan Hanson.

Fuck Brittany. Fuck Gargling. Fuck Orgies. Fuck Swingers. Fuck Bukacki.

Fuck Nude Beaches. Fuck Patrolman Miller. Fuck Police Corruption.

Fuck White Collar Crime. Fuck Winding Brook. Fuck Designer Drugs.

Fuck Smoking Pot Using An Apple. Fuck Convince Store Coffee.

Fuck Panera Bread. Fuck Above Ground Pools. Fuck Cauliflower.

Fuck Florists. Fuck Customer Service Reps. Fuck Private Schools.

Fuck Ciracha. Fuck Putting Salt In Beer. Fuck Scrapbooking. Fuck Drones.

Fuck Puppy Mills. Fuck Backyard Wrestling. Fuck Matt Whitaker.

Fuck Blue Jays. Fuck Backyard Breeders. Fuck Kellyanne Conway.

Fuck Vatican LAw. Fuck Kids In Cages. Fuck Russian Oligarchs. Fuck Fur.

Fuck Hello Kitty. Fuck Sports Bars. Fuck Shitty Pizza. Fuck Garbage Island.

Fuck Cable Sports Packages. Fuck Phone Promotions. Fuck The Red Tide.

Fuck Revelations (Bible). Fuck Palm Readers. Fuck Ouji Boards. Fuck Q Tips.

Fuck The Evil Eye. Fuck Pier One. Fuck Pottery Barn. Fuck Sharper Image.

Fuck Segway. Fuck Baby Bumps. Fuck Metal Wind Chimes. Fuck Fruit Wine.

Fuck Dean Heller. Fuck Scott Walker. Fuck Oliver North. Fuck Kris Kobach.

Fuck Bruce Rauner. Fuck Pete Sessions. Fuck Dave Brat. Fuck Kim Davis.

Fuck Claudia Tenney. Fuck Rohrabacher. Fuck Percentages. Fuck Huffing.

Fuck Metal Straws. Fuck Cheesy Welcome Mats. Fuck Police Check Points.

Fuck Valets. Fuck Permits. Fuck 3rd Party Billing Agencies. Fuck Sneaks.

Fuck Military Coups. Fuck Double Speak. Fuck Backstabbers.

Fuck People Who Talk Both Sides Of Their Mouths. Fuck Dementia.

Fuck Alternative Motives. Fuck Privilege. Fuck Servitude. Fuck Mentors.

Fuck Back Handed Compliments. Fuck Cheap Shots. Fuck Sucker Punches.

Fuck Walking Poles. Fuck Land Mines. Fuck Hummers (Vehicles).

Fuck Butt Chugging. Fuck Vodka Tampons. Fuck Smoking Tide Pods.

Fuck Sniffing Glue. Fuck Mass Production. Fuck Comfort Zones.

Fuck Haters. Fuck Alienation. Fuck Life Coach’s. Fuck Advisors.

Fuck Piss Jugs. Fuck Men’s Thongs. Fuck Product (Hair). Fuck Tinsel.

Fuck Cosmetics. Fuck Dereliction. Fuck Disadvantage. Fuck Ye Olde.

Fuck Foreskins. Fuck Conditioning. Fuck Gold Diggers. Fuck Trophy Wives.

Fuck Status Symbols. Fuck Recorders (The Instrument) Fuck a Quick Fix.

Fuck Being “Too Good For” Anything.

AND

Fuck f-yourblog.com.

Well if you have made it through the entire list without skipping an entry congratulations thats really some Hardcore Shit right there.

This is The End of the F List……OR IS IT?!

Thanks for Reading  By Les Sober