Hand some Ben Bitterness

So lucky...they have guns attached to their arms.

So lucky…they have guns attached to their arms. Well, I do too, but they wouldn’t be allowed at the gun show. 

Hands are a pretty amazing and versatile set of things at the end of your arms.  They are really good at things like punching people, avoiding handshakes, even holding strong weapons to defend and offend other people. But some video game and comic book characters are lucky enough to have other things in the place of hands or arms.  Mega Man and Samus with their arm cannons, Winter Soldier with his metal arm, Plastic Man with his rubber stretchy arms.  When it comes to the extension of the arm, the hand falls somewhere in the middle of the pack.  Let’s take a look at some things that might be bitter and some that might be worse.

Way Worse than hands:

Trees: As you know, I feel very bitter towards trees. They litter, they are always getting the way of people’s views, they like to take up space where a house should be, they are always responsible for downing power lines and the worst is when they down TV and internet lines.  Without which I would cease to function.  Can you imagine having one of those things at the end of your arms? You would never be able to go anywhere and your hands would always be dirty and rooty.  Uggghhh.

Cement: I don’t know about you, but whenever people are telling me about the cement shoes they want me to try on while swimming, it feels like they are trying to tell me something.  Someday, I’ll figure it out, but until then, cement hands seem to like it would make it hard to type, text or nap…and that just makes being a blogger that much harder.

All the better to take morning photos with.

All the better to take morning photos with.

Selfie stick hands: I guess if you are an Instagram freak and that was all you did all day, or if you like freaking kids out with your weirdo extendable only-to-take-a-picture hands, I guess it could come in handy, but when you are doing boring things like driving or trying to get groceries, eating out or sleeping it would be hard to do any of those things without getting kind of a boring photo(can you imagine the waking up photo you would get posted to Instagram in the slumber tone every morning?).

Dictionary: Ughhh, I have learn about words and use all kinds of pretentious words because my parents won’t get me a phone or a 3DS because they think these things are entertainment enough…

Fence: People would always want to mend them, or use them to separate my property from theirs.  Also Tom Sawyer would always be trying to get other people to whitewash them.

Credit Card: This one could go either way.  If you are the one paying, it would be a nightmare, especially when someone maxes it out and the clerk is trying to cut it.  On the other hand, ladies would always want to get their hands on them…

Pen: Hey, does anyone have a pen? Ugggghhhh….

Way bitter than hands: 

TV Guide: Never having to get up to know what is on TV, priceless. Never having to scroll through the onscreen guide on your TV, amazing.  Always having the latest TV trivia on page 32, en fuego.  Always knowing the latest on the behind the scenes of CSI Cyber? Okay, that kind of sucks, but hopefully your brain can kick that out for more useless information like the Bennifer divorce.

Car Steering Wheel:  Always knowing just how steer in traffic to annoy the life out of people that are annoying the life out of me? Bonus.

Grappling Hook: For those times when you just don’t feel like jumping off the top of your building to get to the parking lot, or those times when it’s the end of the day and you just can’t face scaling another wall with your hands and legs to seize the castle, a grappling hook would be way bitter.

Sword: For those times when people threaten society with a swift end and you are the only hope of the survival of the planet.  Or if you just need something to open a letter, a tight jar lid, a quick haircut, or the drywall in a quick reno.  Just be careful in the shower.

Stop Sign: A great way to get other people to do your bidding on the road, or leave you alone in your cubicle.  Talk to the Stop Sign, cause the face ain’t listening.

Talk to the stop sign...

Talk to the stop sign…

The Decepticon Symbol: To show where your loyalties lie when they take over the planet.

A Pillow:  It’s never not naptime.

Don't mind if I do hands...

Don’t mind if I do hands…

A Phone with the Pizza delivery on autodial: For all those time when…for all those times.  Period.

Maybe someday, when my back goes out, and my arms go limp from all the pizza, I will get lucky enough to have to get reconstructed as a guy with all these gadgets for hands, and you will realize that your paleo diet, and all your trips to Whole Foods, and all those times you wanted a donut for breakfast, and lunch and dinner but didn’t, were just stupid.  Just wait until you get a load of me.


Bitter Hand Some Ben


Would you rather…?

celebrity jeopardy

sean connery

You know what my favorite game show is? Jeopardy.  Actually Celebrity Jeopardy. Actually Celebrity Jeopardy as portrayed by Saturday Night Live.  Wanna know why? Because of the way they answer in the form of a question. Actually, it’s because of the categories.  Not really, it’s because of Alex Trabek. Well, more because of Will Ferrell’s portrayal of Alex Trabek. Alright, let’s just admit the real reason.  Sean Connery.  Frickin Sean Connery portrayed as a madman bent on destroying Alex Trabek.  Well, all that is true, but today’s game show, uh blog post is about questions.  And actually I don’t really like that Jeopardy asks you to ask questions to answer.  That’s kind of stupid and makes me bitter.

So my daughter introduced me to a game called Would you rather?…They ask you whether you would rather do something really hard or another thing that is really hard.  I thought I would take the challenge.  It’s pretty rare where you get to see me answer questions because I never do those stupid blogger awards, where questions are asked and you answer them.  So today is your lucky day(or your unlucky day if you didn’t) if you wanted to see me answer stuff.  Too bad they won’t tell you anything about me.  So here’s a randumb sampling of some questions and my deeply insightful answers.

Would you rather….

Always be slightly under-dressed or always be slightly overdressed? Okay, I guess we will start with the easy one.  Slightly under-dressed, because I’m always slightly under-dressed. I wear socks most of the day at work, and bare feet most of the day at home.  And wear pajamas to Walmart.  Okay fine, I overdress for Walmart, but that’s the only place.

Have rewind button or a fast forward button on your life? Okay, another easy one.  Seriously, a rewind button? Like I want to relive anything ever? Yeah, let’s relive all those “precious talks” we had.  Let’s relive high school all over again.  How about we just fast forward any meeting, any work day, any time I’m even slightly inconvenienced.  Actually let me just live meals in real time and I’m good.  Fast forward the rest, uggghhh.

Really hairy or completely bald? Alright, third straight softball.  Completely bald obviously.  I’ve been wanting to go Professor X, Mr. Clean, Vin Diesel, Dr. Evil, Micheal Jordan for a while now.  Not having to brush you hair, or even shampoo your hair, sounds like a dream.  And as any family member can attest, hair is my nemesis.  Anytime I see a hair in my food, or in my hairbrush, or in the sink, or in my clothes, I go straight psych ward on them. A would you rather…between having an onion and having a hair in your food…now that would be a hard one.

Read minds or fly? Like I would ever want to know what is on people’s minds ever.  That would be even worse than having to talk to people and that is the worst.  Listening to people tell boring stories sucks hard enough, but having to listen to people’s even more boring thought stories? Jab me with a hair in my mouth. I’ll fly thanks.

Wet socks for the rest of your life or always have your clothes slightly damp for the rest of your life? Now they are starting to get harder. I think I will have to go with the slightly damp clothes for life.  Wet socks are the worst.  If I ever walk into the bathroom and get my socks even a little bit wet, I throw the socks in the hamster (that’s what they call them right?) then throw the hamster in an incinerator, and burn it and the socks into little particles and then dump the particles in the bottom of a red hot lava pit.  That’s how little I like wet socks.

Burn to death or freeze to death? After work yesterday, I would do either.  Just make them quick.  Or slow and painful.  Either one would have been less painful that yesterday.

Be in constant pain or have a constant itch? What if I experience both of these already? Is that a fair question? In fact, reading this question just made me more in pain and more itchy.  Thanks a lot question.

Be able to speak all languages or talk to animals? As a non animal lover (I know, bring your pitchforks to my lynching) I don’t really think animals would have much to say. Cat: Go get me my food human.  Dog: OHMYGOSHICAN’TBELIEVEYOUAREHOMECANWEGOTHROWTHEBALLAROUND? Hamster: Look at me, I’m running in a circle.  Fish: I can’t breathe.  That, or Can you translate this thing for me, Ben? What were they saying there? Oh you speak (insert language)? Let me spout off all the words I know in that language.  Oh you know my language? Let me comfortably tell you all my secrets.  Can I choose one of the options where no one speaks to me?

No one show up at your wedding or no one at your funeral? Wow that is a hard one.  Choosing an event where no one shows up? Can I take both? No? Well, since I wouldn’t be alive to enjoy no one showing up for my funeral, I guess I would have to choose my wedding so I could fully enjoy that.  But, does that mean I am marrying myself? Cause the bride is someone.  And what about the guy/girl marrying me? That person is annoying too.  Can I leave them out too?


Give up cheese or give up chocolate? Now we are talking a hard decision.  For most people.  I have always been more of a bitter person if you haven’t noticed and chocolate is sweet.  And while cheese is mostly salty, it can be bitter.  And let’s be honest, I could go a whole day without chocolate, but cheese is the like the main ingredient in pizza, hamburgers, hot dogs, Italian food, and everything else I eat.  I would pretty much fade away into being a ghost if I didn’t have cheese.

Have no internet or no cell phone? That is again a pretty easy one for me.  Internet I cannot live without.  A cell phone? That means there is a way for people to talk to me.  And I could easily live without that.  Also, since 1995, I haven’t lived a day without internet.  Only in the last five years have I been attached to my cell phone (and probably only used the phone app like 7 times).

Live twice as long, or win the lottery – Let me see, be old and decrepit twice as long, being on the news for being the oldest man alive, having to endure the endless time in a nursing home, or have tons of money to buy my man cave? What do you think?

Smartest person or the Hottest person? Neither one comes to mind here.  Being smart would be such a pain.  People always asking you questions, people always being snarkily jealous of you (that’s my job), knowing math (uggghh, so boring).  On the other hand, being the hottest would make people want to be around me all the time, and I already think people want to be around me too much now.  I guess smart, because at least some people would like to leave me alone.

Opposite gender or kid for a day – I am thinking that world needs more bitter women and I think if I was one for a day, I could convince more to be.  On the other hand, being a kid would be so annoying.  I would be so annoyed by myself, I would hope that I would get exhausted and just take a nap until the day was over.

So there are the insightfully bitter answers to some super intriguing questions for you.  So my questions to you are: What would you have answered? What other questions do you have for me? How offended are you by some of my answers? Can I just go take a nap?


Bitter Questions Ben


Bitter Networking Network

Spread your network like a virus.

Spread your network like a virus.

I have many ambitions in life.  One is to get an all you can eat card from Pizza Hut, another is to be able to do a 3 day video game binge where all I do is play all the video games I haven’t had a chance to play in the last 20 years, and I want to star a Bitter Empire.  Movies, television shows, amusement parks, bitter merchandise, video games, books, bitter furniture, sugary sweet cereal to make your kids crazy, etc. Building an empire takes a lot of suckers to hop aboard the bitter train to shovel the coal (do all the work for you), so I can sit back and chortle at how much I’ve drained from people’s 401k’s to buy my garbage products.

In order to find people like that, it takes networking.  You know, that mystery tool that absolutely no one really knows how to use on LinkedIn? Maybe it worked for the owner of LinkedIn because he has a site where everyone signs up to pretend they network, but hasn’t worked for one other person? Well, that kind of failure is great for him, but what about bitter people like us who want to fail, but want to be bitter about it? Where we want to drop our bitter knowledge on other like-bitter minded people? Come no further than this, the bitterest blog on the net.  I’m am willing make this a place where bitter can meet bitter and follow each other’s blogs.

Tell your friends and bitter enemies, so I can build an empire you can share information with each other.  It will help you find other bitter blogs like mine.  Or maybe even a bitter nemesis. It’s pretty simple:

In the comments, put your bitter blog address

a description of your bitter blog

any of your other social networks you want to be followed

follow other blogs listed in the comments

Go to the page that will be created to look at others later

Make this the place the Bitter Networking place you always nightmared about.

You’re welcome for doing all this work for you, you ungrateful bitter people.

If you want to tweet about it, use #Bittershare and link back to me.


Bitter Networking Network Ben

PS Here’s my blog address in case you didn’t know.

Twitter: @benadman

Instagram: @bensbitterblog

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/bensbitter


Bitter Friday Drifting Giftures

As you know, I’m a big fan of the nap.  It provides me with a good way to get away from reality, because reality makes me bitter.  In reality, you have to be around people and answer questions, and do things.  All things I don’t like doing.  I’ve found though, that you don’t always have to be inside on your couch to be able to nap.  Recently, we got season passes to the local mini-waterpark which has my favorite water attraction.  The lazy river, which I believe was named after me.  Yesterday, I found that if you lean on your raft just right, you can drift off uncomfortably to sleep, only to be awakened by other little people who think this thing is a roller coaster ride.  I will get my revenge little water devils!

I might accidentally…

...push you on a skateboard in the street...

…push you on a skateboard in the street…

Or teach you the true terror…


…of healthy snacks…

Speaking of healthy snacks…

...how would you like to be one?

…how would you like to be one?


You wanna follow me…


…”fall”ow away.  


Just make sure to keep…


…your crazy eyes on the ball.


You think you are safe inside…

Dumb Kids Get Wet

cause you aren’t.


Ready for a little…


…hummingbird torture? 


Here’s pool I built for you…


…whoops, I knocked it down. So sorry about that.


This will teach you…


…not to horse around.  

Don’t be surprised if I…


…actually be surprised.


Hey, do you mind if I get a scoop of ice cream from you…


…only one scoop.

Oh you have a boring story you want to tell me…


…tell me all about it. 

Oh and you have a boring story to tell me about your summer vacation? Go ahead and tell me all about it.  I can’t wait to hear all about it.  Wow me.  Tell me what you are doing with all those same precious few hours you get at the end of the day like every other day of the year.  Or what you did with the same few weeks you get for vacation every year.  I promise not to drift off when you are telling me all about it…


Bitter Drift King Ben

100,000 Bitter Views


I think 1 person just kept clicking 100,000 times.

I think 1 person just kept clicking 100,000 times.

I’ve been annoying people for a long time now.  From the moment I started kicking in my mom’s belly to popping the plastic letter people in kindergarten to jumping on my bed in first grade to annoying 4 siblings, to annoying roommates and now my co-workers and family members, I’ve had a long illustrious career of annoying people.  But three years ago, I got tired of annoying the same old people, and decided that I needed to make a change.  Twitter wasn’t the global phenomenon that it is today, Facebook was more annoying to me that I was to it, and I just felt like I wasn’t getting through to annoying people on a large enough scale.

How about you bring me 100,000 cupcakes?

How about you bring me 100,000 cupcakes?

Then an idea popped into my head, and I ignored it for a while, because most of mine are so laaammme. Then, another much lamer idea came to me, and I decided that this was the one.  A 900 number.  Most of the kids today don’t know what these are because smart phones, but back in the day, people actually paid money to call people.  Most of them were for calls of ill repute, but some were for tips on video games or other things like information.  Google of course replace that, but my idea, people calling in to complain then allowing the customer service rep to complain right back.  It is still in the works because I’m lazy and also don’t know if 900 numbers exist, but in its place I decided to do a lame blog instead.

So I wrote all the stuff I was bitter about and got 30 views the first day. Mostly my co-workers and myself. I toiled on for about 8 months until I figured out that there were other readers on WordPress that would read other peoples blogs and fast forward to about a week ago and I got my 100,000th view on this blog. I was going to celebrate by giving the 100,000th viewer $100,000 but I was on vacation at the time, and I’m not sure who it was.  If you are out there, feel free to call my 900 number and I will send you the check.

Call my 900 line and it is yours.

Call my 900 line and it is yours.

On a much bitter note, I would like to thank myself for all the hard work of getting to this point of annoying so many people.  Also, I’m just kidding. What is hard work?


Bitter Viewfinder Ben

The End of the Lines

I thought a line was

Look at this blue line as it taunts all the lines below with imminent destruction…only to then do it again and again.  That blue line is a line terrorist. 

I learned a few things on my vacation.  “The more the merrier” is totally untrue, you can never have too much pizza (actually wait, already knew that) and lines are the most destructive thing on the planet.

Let me state that again very clearly.  Lines are the most destructive thing on the planet. DO NOT DISPUTE THIS FACT!

The facts cannot be in dispute. Witness:

Disney/Universal/Amusement Parks – According to some math theory, the shortest distance between two points is a straight line.  According to Disney/Universal, the longest way is bars and ropes.  If you were to do all the rides in all the Disney’s and all the Universal’s it would take about 10 minutes.  There could only be three people in line, but they can Transform that line into a 60 minute wait just by the way they manipulate a few ropes.  Thanks to this genius model of making people bitter, I’ve devised a way to keep people from visiting me at my desk at work.  I will use a complicated roping system, an intern as the annoying bouncer type rope guarding guy/or girl, and a sign outside that says a wait time of 70 minutes, and of course a soundproof booth for me.  The buzz for the end of the ride will be so horrific, that by the end of the day, the wait time will be 80 minutes and I will sneak out the tunnel under my desk.


The fake line of people waiting to talk to me at work. 

The pick up line – Are you a parking ticket? Because you have fine written all over you.  Is your name Google? Because you are everything I’ve been searching for. Is there an airport nearby, or is that just my heart taking off? Do you like pizza? Because I like pizza too.  Has there ever been anything more devastating to your case as a dateable person than bad pick up lines? Besides your face, your bad breath, your terribly unwittiness, and toxic attitude? Besides the stains on your shirt, your bad manners, your complete inability to make conversation, your awkwardness, your unmatched socks, and your 80’s style mullet? Your lack of followers on Google+ and Myspace?

The tan line –  The light part of your arm laughs and mocks the blood red disaster that is the rest of your arm.  While arm is left helpless, dying and crying in the heat of the devastating heat of the middle of the sun heat of Florida, the shoulder sits inside, with the air conditioning on, watching TV and sipping drinks, and laughing at the rest of the arm.

You're going to need a doctor...

You’re going to need a doctor cause you are getting mocked.

Phone lines –  Witness the terror of being forced to make conversation with someone. The caller ID that shows your co-workers number, or you never stop talking aunt, or your kid that only calls when they need money, or even worse the telemarketer/”it’s only a 5 minute survey” girl.  Have you ever felt so trapped?

The linings of your stomach –  You do not want to see the wasteland that is the linings of this stomach. After years of pizza, soda, more pizza, candy bars, pizza, donuts, pasta, pizza, hamburgers and pizza, the linings of this stomach can’t take it anymore and have decided to move somewhere else.  They moved to the expanded waistline.

Laser surgery – Because of my utter inability to stick a curve piece of plastic inside my eyeball, and my utter annoyance in getting eyebrow hairs stuck in my glasses, I could no longer take it anymore.  So I got laser surgery on my eyes, not only so I could see, but also so I could use my laser eyes on people that annoy me.

I will mess you up!

I will mess you up!

The worst line of all? Disney telling us that it’s the happiest place on earth.  What they mean is that it is the happiest place on earth for them.  Because for every little thing they do that they claim is magic is really just them using a magic wand to collect four lines that create a rectangle.  Those rectangles come from our wallets and are made of paper that have numbers like, 1, 5, 10, 50 and 100.  Or plastic rectangles that have other numbers and expiration dates on them, and they are determined to max all those things.  And they line their pockets with that stuff.

Witness the destruction of lines.

Witness the destruction of lines.

Cower in bitter fear, people.  The lines are coming for us and there is nothing we can do about it.


Bitter Line their Pockets Ben


The Bitter Side of…the Sun

Me and the boy sword fighting if we were invincible.

Me and the boy sword fighting if we were invincible.

One night at dinner in one of the 5 star Disney cruise restaurants, I was eating one of my two entrees that night, and my son and I spent the good part of a dinner talking about being invincible and what we would do if we were so.  Of course we would sword fight, punch fight, gun fight, (he likes to fight, what can I say, have you met his dad?). We would jump off the wings of planes, dive to the bottom of the ocean, stand on the top of buildings during lightening storms, jump in hot lava, and go to the middle of the earth’s core.  Then I thought about it, and told him the ultimate thing an invincible person could do.  “We could even fly into the middle of the sun.”  He was blown away by that, and so was I…until we went outside to Castaway Cay.

Castaway Cay is a private Disney Island somewhere near the Bahamas.  It was essentially our first time off the cruise ship and IT. WAS. HOT. Like the inside of an active volcano hot.  We, of course, applied level 70 SPF and spent most of the time in the ocean (protected by the harmful rays of the sun), and reapplied multiple times so as to never get any sort of burn.  Also I wore a hat so the sun couldn’t penetrate between my thick head of hair that was only thin on most parts of my head. Predictably, I became redder than (fine, let’s stick with the Disney theme, uggggh) the Little Mermaid’s hair.

No, not that mermaid, but definitely that bitter.

No, not that mermaid, but definitely that red and bitter.

Many say the sun is essential to our planet living.  It contains just the right amount of heat and light to warm this planet, thus making it inhabitable.  By some luck or force or science it happens to be just the right 93 million miles away to power this planet.  Mercury and Venus are way too hot and Mars way too cold.  Now after spending a little time in Florida/Bahamas for a week and half, I’m not so sure science is right.  I think Florida may have floated off into space somewhere between the Sun and Mercury.  I’m pretty sure it should be illegal and be cruel and unusual to allow anyone in that state to not have a working air conditioner.

Trying to stay cool in Florida.

Trying to stay cool in Florida.

I don’t think that Senior Citizens of this country go to Florida to enjoy their retirement.  They go there because they want to die.  Superman, famous for gaining his superpowers from the Earth’s sun, if he were flying around the universe in a search for the some criminal, hopped around Venus for a while, then took a quick look through Venus, flew through the core of the million degree heat of the sun, then flew back to earth, circled it a few times and then happened to started to fly by Florida in June, even he would have some armpit stains on his perfectly stitched, bright blue Krypton family sealed uniform.  He would probably wonder if there was Kryptonite nearby, because nothing had ever made him feel so weak as the heat in Florida.

Superman in the Florida heat.

Superman in the Florida heat.

When you use spray-on sunscreen in Florida, you can see the drops of liquid being instantly pulled off your skin and floated into the air like a helium balloon floating to its ultimate doom. But the sunscreen doesn’t float away because of the heat, but because the sun actually needs the protection from Florida.  Ever notice why they call June the rainy season in Florida? Because even the sun is smart enough to avoid Florida in June, it’s so hot.  There is only one way to make Florida hotter than anything else in the universe.  Going to an amusement park in Orlando and standing in line with other people.  But that is a subject for tomorrow.  Literally.


Bitterly Hot Bitter Ben


Thanks a lot Dad…

Yeah dad.

Yeah dad.

Thanks a lot dad.  Thanks for teaching me your favorite saying, “Life isn’t fair.” Why can’t your favorite saying be, “Everytime you try to win the lottery, you will win the lottery!”

Thanks a lot dad.  Thank you so much for teaching me about responsibility.  Why couldn’t you teach me about laziness? I had to work very hard at developing that skill.

Thanks a lot dad.  Thank you so much teaching me to be good with my money.  Learning to go on a Vegas trip to blow all my money, buying a bunch of fireworks that would have been amazing, or finding some multi-level get rich scheme to try every week was all my doing. Why couldn’t you support my dreams!



I stay awake for the important things.

Thanks a lot dad. Thank you so much for teaching me to wake up early and go to bed early.  Luckily, I learned how to sleep in, sleep on the couch, sleep in class and sleep through work.  I do wake up for special things like video games and Netflix though.


At least he got to be in a movie.

Thanks a lot dad.  Thank you so much for not being Dr. Evil, or Darth Vader, or Clark Griswold.  How am I supposed to be in movies when you aren’t using me for your nefarious purposes?

Thanks a lot dad.  Thanks for teaching me that education matters.  I got so dependent on it, that I went to school for like 17 years.  It’s like I got addicted and couldn’t stop.  I mean I spent at least 6 years in elementary school, 3 years in junior high, 3 years in high school, and 5 years in college.  Next thing you know, I’m gonna want to become a master.

Thanks a lot dad.  Thanks for teaching me about dad jokes.  The last two days I’ve been telling my daughter about my job.  And about the fact that it is soda pressing.

Yep, my job is great.

The dad joke gene is strong.

Most of all, thanks a lot dad.  Thanks a lot for continuing to be a dad to me even after I am a grown up.  Like I need your help anymore. I’ve got kids to raise and I don’t need an example of how to be a dad to them.  I’ve got it all figured dang you kids, get to your room for not cleaning up after me! out, see?

So yeah.  I’ve got it.

Well, gotta go.  The kids should be busy celebrating me and my bitterness soon.


Bitter Who’s you daddy? Ben

What it feels like to come home from Vacation Friday Giftures

I’m back, Bitters, and more bitter than ever.  Vacation has a way of centering my bitterness and helping me focus even more on it, since I’m not really busy doing work.  Eventually, despite many of your desperate inner pleas for me to never come back and perpetually keep my bitterness to myself, all things come to an end eventually.  There is a certain feeling you get when it all ends and have to wake up at a certain time and you have to talk to people again and you have to answer the same questions over and over again like, “How was your vacation?” (cause I can sum up 10 days in a word like, “Good.”) or “Did you get me any souvenirs when you were there?” *(that’s an easy answer, “No.”) or “What was the weather like?” and you just can’t summon the energy to not fall asleep at that question.  So now, all I have left of that vacation is to daydream about being bitter in a non working situation and hope that no one notices the drool on my face when I take my afternoon nap. Also there are these feelings.

The bitter feeling you get when you wake up…

How was the breakfast buffet?

…and there is no this.

When you get off the boat…


…and the prospect of being near co-workers makes you feel like this.


When you are on your way back to work the day after you get back…


…and traffic is…this.


Your alarm goes off for the first time in 10 days…


…and it feels like this.


You get back from the tropical 100 degree with humidity weather...


…and you step off the plane to the 70 degree and cloudy weather.


Someone calls the moment you get back from your 10 hour flight…


…and you’re like…


You’re on your way home and someone tries to cut you off…


…and you’re like…


You get home and see your couch for the first time… 


…and you’re like…


You get to work and see how many emails you have to read…


…and you’re like…


You’re hungry so you take a look at the fridge...


…and you’re like…


When someone asks you if you unpack…


…and you’re like…


When you look at the schedule and look at your next vacation…


…and you’re like…


And then someone looks at you like you are supposed to be doing all kinds of stuff at work and you’re like…I have to go through all my emails (most of which are spam, viruses and blog emails) but they don’t know that because they are still busy cleaning up your mess from a week and a half ago.

Have a bitter weekend knowing that you have nothing to look forward to but posts about how bitter I was on vacation for the next two weeks.


Bitter back to the Grind Ben





Bitter Guest Post – Jaclyn from Snarky Brunette – Summer Time Isn’t Happy, It’s Purely Bitter

Not overly impressed with you.

Jaclyn is not overly impressed with you.

Last up, but certainly not the least bitter before my inevitable return is Jaclyn from The Snarky Brunette.  She has been bitter from the beginning and is very straight forward on her bitter views.  She also does some really bitter YouTube videos and parodies.  You may have seen her on Long Awkward Pause as their YouTube expert.  Make sure you check out her blog and her YouTube Channel.  And Bitter Entertainment Network bitterly presents….Summer Time Isn’t Happy, It’s Purely Bitter…by Jaclyn Ashley




Summer Time Isnt Happy Its Purely Bitter


Dear World,

I know most of you are excited for summer time, because you get to go swimming, go on vacation, and if you’re lucky enough stick your toes in some sand, but while all of you are focusing on the amazing things summer brings, I can only dream of the negatives, and that is why I give you, ten things to be bitter about this summer.

  1. Ugly Feet. Yes, I typed it, ugly feet. In general, feet are pretty atrocious, and during the summer is when 98% of the population decides to wear flip flops, and it gives all those ugly feet a chance to see the light, and scare the rest of us into darkness.


  1. Summer time means extra warm weather, and if you reside in a humid part of the world you get to experience lots and lots of sweat. Humidity makes you feel like you haven’t showered in a week, even if you took one an hour ago.


  1. Diets. Everyone and their mom is suddenly starving themselves, because it is now swim suit season and they want to get rid of the weight they gained from all those Peppermint Mocha lattes from Starbucks.


  1. Mosquitoes. Summer time brings those blood thirsty beasts to town, and they’re starving, and searching for something to dine on, and guess what is their favorite thing to chow down on? Human flesh. Yes, say hello to all of those pink, itchy, bumps!


  1. Tourists. This mainly applies to those of you living in cities that people love to travel to. I live in Los Angeles, an overpopulated city, but right now there is even MORE people here!


  1. You get to spend more money on gas. Summer time means hotter weather, and that means cranking up the AC in your vehicle which leads to spend more cash on gas.


  1. You barely get a day off from work. Sure, there is the 4th of July, but that’s really about it until Thanksgiving. Summer does not have any kind of long break, or holidays.


  1. Schools Out! This means you get to listen to tons of bratty children run around the grocery store screaming because their idiotic parents are too busy talking on their cell phones!


  1. This is for the ladies. You have to shave your legs more often, because you’re wearing shorts, and because your hair grows faster when it gets warmer.


  1. There is nothing good on television. It’s like television takes a vacation, and they leave on a bunch of garbage for everyone to watch so we appreciate how good we had it during the winter and fall months.


Bitterly Summered Jaclyn


Bitter Guest Post – Aurora from Authentically Aurora – “Government Bittercrats”


She seems sweet, but don’t let that fool you.  There is bitterness hiding  behind those eyes.

Today, stepping up to the plate and pinch hitting in my absence is Aurora, of Authentically Aurora, and quite frankly in this guest post she hits a Bitter grand slam.  It helps that the subject is the Bittercrats in the government, but she nails it. I should mention that she actually wrote this post LINK HERE on her blog originally, but it was so fantastically bitter that I asked if I could steal it for a guest post. Her blog is about her singleness and misadventures in dating, but don’t let that title in her blog fool you.  She’s also a super talented, well rounded Christian woman who also happens to also be a super skilled writer as well.  Go check her out on her blog, Authentically Aurora.   

“Government Bittercrats”



When life gives you lemons, ask the government to make it into lemonade for you. After they have racked up expenses (to the detriment of the self-starters whomade their own damn lemonade), the government will ignorantly gift you with bleach-laced lemonade, and as you lay dying in agony, you can surely find a way to blame your fate on those blasted self-starters with work ethic.


I got a speeding ticket last month. I was going with the flow of traffic, which happens to be 15 mph over the speed limit on the highways where I live. That’s what I get for driving a shiny new car.

As my last (and only other) ticket was seven years ago, I made the cop talk me through my options. The very next day, I mailed in my $114 check and the perforated slip indicating that I plead “no contest” and request defensive driving. I read through all of the documentation provided to me, but nowhere did it indicate if I had to complete defensive driving prior to my court date, so I stayed up late last night finishing the online course because my court date is scheduled for tomorrow, and I wanted to be sure I could overnight my certificate of completion if needed.

In reading through all of the ticket documentation, I understood that I did not have to appear in court since I mailed in my response ahead of time, but I called the court clerk just to make sure. After waiting on hold for what felt like an eternity, the clerk looked up my ticket number and informed me that they had never received anything from me in the mail. She also informed me that if I didn’t show up for court the next day, a warrant would be issued for my arrest.

Ron 2I asked the clerk how often municipal courts fail to receive their mail. The clerk sighed and admitted that she gets calls like mine all day. Considering that I used the provided governmental pre-addressed envelope to send in my forms via the United States Postal Service, I was floored.

A government employee wrote me a ticket and provided me with a governmental envelope, which I mailed via the governmental postal service to the local government courthouse, and somehow I was the one threatened with a warrant for my arrest! Also, the provided envelope was hot pink. How does the US Postal Service lose a freaking hot pink envelope?!?!?!

Ron 1I work downtown just blocks from the municipal courthouse, so the clerk advised me to stop by on my lunch break and ask to see an annex judge. I debated walking, but it was on the other side of a highway, so I decided to drive the five minutes over to the court building.

When I arrived, I discovered that I had to pay $5 for parking. Annoyed, I swiped my AmEx card. The machine wouldn’t take it, even though it clearly indicated that it accepts American Express. So I slipped in a $10 bill. My receipt printed, but no change came. I mashed a bunch of buttons, and still no change came. Seething at this point, I stormed between clusters of seedy characters lining the stone steps up to the courthouse door.

I walked through a metal detector, asked the woman at the information booth to see an annex judge, was directed down a stairwell to the musty basement where I found Court 99. After I checked in, I was asked to sit in a certain spot on a certain pew partway back in the courtroom.

I started to check my phone, but I saw a sign indicating “No Cell Phones”. I figured I would entertain myself the old fashioned way by reading a book. Then I saw the sign that said “No Reading of Books”. Sighing to myself at the idiotic controls of my local government, I was about to start a conversation with the gentleman sitting beside me when I spotted the sign that read, “No talking”.

Wow. No phones, no reading, no talking, no food or drink, no breathing or scratching your nose… just exist. Sit there and think about what you’ve done. No thanks. I talked to the man beside me anyway. Nobody’s gonna call this girl a Rule Follower.

When it was finally my turn to speak with the judge, I started to explain how I’d mailed in my check and plea, but I just found out they hadn’t been received —

The judge interrupted me. “And did you send it certified mail?” I stared at her blankly. Why should I have to pay extra money to send a government-issued envelope to a government building via the governmental postal service?

“No,” I told her. She rolled her eyes and looked at me like I was a moron.

“Did your check clear?”

“No.” This was not going the way I had envisioned. I started to explain that I had already taken the defensive driving course, when she interrupted me again.

“You didn’t have approval to take the defensive driving course. We never received your paperwork, so we never approved it. Do you even know if it was a T.E.A. approved course?”

“I don’t know what T.E.A. stands for,” I told her, starting to get frustrated all over again.

Here I was, trying to be proactive, having sent in my payment the day after I got the ticket; then taking the initiative to go ahead and enroll in the defensive driving course and now standing in court a day early because I bothered to call ahead and discovered that I needed to show up in person to handle things. The government was the one who lost my paperwork, and yet I was being made to feel stupid because I didn’t follow their bitter bureaucratic process, which – by the way – was not clearly outlined anywhere! I know, because I looked long and hard for some semblance of guidance on how to navigate their bureaucracy!

My irritation must have shown on my face because the judge put on a face of superiority and said with steel in her voice, “You look like you are angry with me.” It was a challenge. Her face said with deadly silence, “Girrrl [insert Z-snap here], don’t you know I have power over you? I hold yo’ fate in these here hands. You best be showin’ some respect!”

There were lots of things I wanted to say in response to that – comments about the governmental parking meter outside, the cop who gave me the ticket, the unclear nature of their process, inefficiency of their system, the incompetence of USPS and the government in general… but instead, I gritted my teeth and said, “I am not angry with you.”

I am now to print off my $27 driving record, wait to receive my $25 (+ $35) certificate of completion from my defensive driving course, and return to the municipal court by the end of August to have the ticket dismissed… because I answered correctly by acknowledging my incompetence and inferiority to the Judge, The Man and The System.

Ron 3
Speeding ticket: $114
Defensive Driving course cost: $25
Driving record cost: $27
Notary fee: $6
Overnight certificate mailing fee: $35
Municipal Court parking fee: $10
The Speeding Ticket Experience: Priceless

Acerbic Aurora


Authentically Aurora

Bitter Guest Post – Alex from Only Bad Chi “Rule Breaking Bitterness”

Alex has perfected the bitter face.


Next up in the Bitter-Ben-is-finally-out-of-our-lives-for-a-little-bit tour, is Alex from Only Bad Chi.  We have pretty much figured out that we are soul twins, because she is as bitter as I am.  She blogs about many things that irritate her like men, guys, males, and people getting in the way of her food.  She’s agreed to take the bitter mic and drop some funny up in here. I pretty much figure that as soon as I get back, this blog will be a desert wasteland, and her blog will be the life of the party. Just don’t talk to her at the party, because she hates talking to people almost as much as I do. Without further ado, her bitter take on rules.

“Rule Breaking Bitterness”

I was so honored when Ben asked me to write a bitter blog guest post, because I worship him, his blog, and his bitterness. At first, I couldn’t think of one bitter thing to write about. Because I’m literally bitter about EVERYTHING. How ever could I choose? That’s like putting an alcoholic in a liquor store and saying, “just pick one.” But then, it struck me. Rule breakers. I have so much bitter hatred towards them–people who think the rules don’t apply to them. Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t believe in rules. For the most part, I think they’re baseless. However–when they serve a legitimate purpose and/or when everyone else has to follow them or will get in trouble, then every individual should have to abide by them.


For example, when someone cuts in line. Do you think I like standing in line, sir? Do you think I’m just doing this for kicks and giggles? NO. What makes you think you’re above the line? I have to pee just as bad as you. I’m in just as much a rush as you are to get out of the grocery store and home to Netflix. I’m just as eager to eat whatever delicious food we are in line for. I’m just as desperate to get a drink in me at the bar. What gave you the idea that I’d enjoy staring at the back of your stupid head and your accompanying neck fat? FALL BACK.


Or when someone cuts you off in traffic. What makes you think I want to be behind you? You clearly didn’t enjoy being not in front of me, so why is it cool for you to cut me off so I then have to slam on my brakes, and the food I’m inevitably trying to eat and coffee I’m trying to drink spills everywhere, and then I have to lick it off my car seats because I don’t believe in wasting food, the only thing I know to be holy? Why do you think traffic doesn’t apply to you? What do you gain by getting ahead of me? You’re still stuck in the same mass of unmoving cars on their march toward death (or Costco, whichever comes first. Which is probably the former more often than not if we’re talking people on their way to Costco (it’s not just the items they sell there that come in ‘bulk’)).


Or, similar to line-cutting, when you’re at a restaurant where you’re supposed to order at the counter, then get a number, then get a table, but table space is extremely limited, so someone takes an open table before ordering and then saves it while they send their friend up to order and get a number. Yeah, it’s really too bad that there aren’t enough open tables, but what makes you more worthy of one than the person who’s patiently and considerately waiting in line to be a paying customer first? Nothing, that’s what. You are not special. In fact, you’re kind of the worst for taking a table without paying first. You think you’ve scored because you’ve gotten the last table–to you, it’s a win. You know why? Because the rest of your life is pathetic. You don’t win in any other aspect, so you have to win here, even if by cheating. You probably live in your grandma’s basement and live off of her social security checks. You probably cry when you jack off, eat nothing but Cheetos and drink nothing but Mountain Dew, and have a long past-receding hair line. Guess what? I don’t care. It’s not my fault you’re a loser, ergo you don’t get the table by default.


There are so many other instances of rule breaking that make me endlessly bitter, but in the interest of not wasting too much of your time, I’ll just say that I think it’s appropriate to institute vigilante justice in these situations. I’m taking back my place in line, I’m taking back my place in traffic, and I’m taking back the table that’s rightfully mine (or, if you won’t leave, I’m sitting down with you at the table. Get comfortable–I went to a lot of camp as a kid, so my knowledge of campfire songs is INFINITE. It’s about to get Kumbaya up in here). It’s time we all channel our wild wild west mentalities (but not the movie, though–that was terrible. Ugh one more thing to be bitter about).


Alex from Only Bad Chi





Bitter Guest Post – Ben from Ben’s Bitter Blog – “Out to Sea Giftures”

Today’s guest poster will be me.  Bitter Ben is a blogger…blah blah…Clearly, I either have delegation issues, or someone didn’t offer to do the Friday Giftures, both of which make me bitter.  What you should know is that I have just been through a torturous week of eating tons of free food, getting sick from eating the free food, getting sick from the constant motion of the cruise ship, getting sick from all the Disney Characters annoying me and I’m sure the bed was hurting my back.  Here’s some of the lessons I’ve learned out here on the high seas…

Out here on the high seas...

...attacking things with a vengance

…we’re attacking things with a vengeance. 


We’re learning…

...we're learning all kinds of destruction skills.

…new superpowers.


We are learning that…

...taking it easy.

…some people aren’t really in much of a hurry. 


We’re learning that no matter what you do…

water gets everywhere.

…water gets everywhere.


We’re learning that…


…you should be aware of who is applying your sunscreen for you. 


We are learning to not be too good at anything…


…cause of the way they celebrate things around here. 


We are learning that you might be able to walk on water…


…but you can’t run on water. 


We’re learning that some fights…


…are actually worth watching. 


We are learning that some fish..


…have a little more fight. 


We are learning that…


…homemade jetpacks don’t work as well as factory made ones. 


We learned that…

...not all rope swings lead to water.

…not all rope swings lead to water.


And the biggest lesson of all…


…don’t text near water.  



Well, enjoy your time on land doing work and all that.  I’m out here suffering on some sandy beach, having people bring me stuff while I don’t do stuff.  It’s a hard job that I always seem to get stuck with.  Consider yourself lucky because you are probably indoors safe from all this heat. UGgghhh.


Bitter Out to Sea Ben

Make sure to check me out on my blog at Ben’s Bitter Blog

Or on Twitter 

Or on Instagram.








Bitter Guest Post – Mindy from Yellow Fever – “Started From The Bottom”


This is Mindy, on one of her less than bitter days. Don't mess with her on her bitter days.

This is Mindy. Not bitter now, but ask her one more question…

Today’s substantial upgrade at substitute blogging is Mindy from Yellow Fever, a guest poster who totally volunteered when I coerced her into doing a post for me about a month or so ago.  When I first started reading her blog, I knew she was a bitter blogger cut out of the same cloth as me.  Similar to this guest post, her blog tells all kinds of stories about how rude guys can be when trying to get a date with her.   Remember to be nice to Mindy because as a former librarian, she will tell you to shhhhh. Pay her a visit at Yellow Fever.


“Started from the bottom, now we’re here”

Stop. Don’t even try and tell me you haven’t heard those lyrics before because everyone knows Drake. Drake has to be one of the most popular artists of this decade, and if you haven’t heard of him… you’re probably lying. You know who else is lying?

Drake. He didn’t start from the bottom. No, he had an above ground pool growing up and was on a little Canadian show called “Degrassi: The next generation” maybe you’ve heard of it?



Now, I know most people can see past the lies, and are on the D(rake) Train, and you know what? I USED TO BE ON THAT TRAIN! So what happened to make me fall off the bandwagon? What made me react to any Drake song the way he reacted to being kissed by Madonna at Coachella?


Oh, I’ll tell you what happened… let’s roll back six years ago to my freshman year of college.








It was my first year of college, and I was working at a bar. Wow, big things were in store for this 18-year old.

Now, working at a bar definitely upped my cool factor with the other people who lived in my building/floor, but that’s not the reason I decided to work there. I had a scholarship, which paid my tuition for four years (holla!), and I wasn’t looking to screw that up, so I decided that I wanted to have a good time, but not party and lose my scholarship. I was such a good student my first semester.


So I worked at this bar called “Cy’s Roost,” but I only stayed there a semester because my boss was the kind of person you weren’t supposed to be alone with, and because of stories like the one I’m about to share with you.

I went in on a Friday night, around 9:00 p.m. and had to work the highly respected beer cart. I actually didn’t mind working the beer cart because that meant I didn’t have to go up to random people and ask if they wanted any more to drink. Although, it also meant I couldn’t leave, especially if I was stuck in an awkward situation…

So it was fairly early into my shift, and Steven Anthony Lawrence’s (A.K.A. BEANS) doppleganger came up to me to buy a $3 tall boy. He made some small talk and asked how my night was going. I said it was pretty quiet so far, which led him to continue to ask more questions. Thank goodness he picked up on my subtle hints, which indicated I wanted to him to continue to sweep me off my feet. He told me he was in a band, and I should come see his band some time.

I said cool, but ignored his invitation. I asked him what he did in his band because as I previously stated, I was being swept off my feet and it seemed polite to ask. OF COURSE this guy was the lead singer, and they did some of their own stuff, as well as covers of some other songs. He asked me what some of my favorite bands and songs were, but unfortunately I wasn’t able to answer because another customer came up behind him. Thankfully, I had put out enough clues of interest in this guy that he told me, “I’ll be back, cutie!”

Me too, Jason.  Me too.

Me too, Jason. Me too.

Y’all, this man did not disappoint. He did came back, and he was quickly becoming drunker, which makes sense because he was at a bar. He came back and continued to brag about his band, and I continued to feign enthusiasm. Apparently this guy had never talked to a girl at a bar before because he believed that I was hanging off of his every word, despite the fact that I was looking around in search of help the whole time. Sometimes, a girl will have a sparkle in her eye when she’s talking to someone she’s interested in, the only things in my eyes were pleas for help.

Luckily, I was saved once again by another flurry of customers and Beans 2 walked away as he assured me he would be back. YES. Now, I know you’re probably thinking, wasn’t this story supposed to be about Drake? Or maybe even, “Oh, yeah! Drake, I forgot!” Well, don’t worry, we’re almost there, or as Drake would say, “Started from the bottom now we’re *almost* here.”

So a little while later, the man of my dreams came back to me, as “Best I Ever Had” by Drake was playing. You bet your sweet behind I remember which song was playing. You always remember the song playing the moment you first fall in love with someone… or the moment someone completely creeps you out. I’ll let you guess which applies here.

This guy came up behind me and started drunkenly serenading me with “Best I Ever Had” by Drake. I was so grossed out because not only was he using this song I liked against me, but I could feel his hot breath on my ear, and smell the beer on his breath. It was all of my nightmares rolled into one. I was scared stiff, I couldn’t move and I had no idea what to do.

This will always be me.

This will always be me.

Thankfully, I managed to make eye contact with one of the bouncers, who rushed over and told the guy he needed to back away from me. The man of my dreams told the bouncer that we were just trying to have a good time, as I shook my head at the bouncer. The bouncer decided that the guy had had enough to drink and that it was time for him to leave. After the guy was escorted out, I thanked the bouncer, and said the guy was being kind of creepy all night…

But that wasn’t the end of it for me and Beans 2. As the other workers and I were closing the bar down, this wonderful man was swaying outside the window trying to get my attention. He kept gesturing for me to come outside and go somewhere with him. Wow, could this really be our first date? I shook my head no, and continued cleaning. I let the bouncer know the guy was still outside, and he went out there to tell the guy to leave. Eventually he did leave, but I never did get back on the D(rake) Train because it always brings back memories of what could have been.

Mindy from Yellow Fever

Follow her blog at Yellow Fever

Her Twitter at Mindy Dickerson

Bitter Guest Post – Annie from Under and Over and Around and Through – “Bitter Grocery Store Experience”

Annie, not trying very hard to look bitter.

Annie, not trying very hard to look bitter.

Today’s Bitter Ben substitute teacher is actually a substitute teacher, Annie Emmy Evans from Under and Over and Around and Through.  No, she’s not going to just put on video on and let you slide through the day.  You are actually going to have to pay attention, because she has words of bitterness for you.  And trust me she has things to be bitter about.  Have you ever been a teacher? How about a substitute? Anyways, I won’t tell you that sometimes she takes a positive spin on things, because you probably wouldn’t believe me. Thankfully, she didn’t do it this time in her visit to the grocery store.  Go see her blog Under and Over and Around and Through.

“Bitter Grocery Store Experience”

Yesterday, after work, I had to run to the grocery store. I hate running to the grocery store after work because everyone else seems to think that running to the grocery store after work is a brilliant idea too. Thus, the “after work” grocery store crowd pretty much consists of everyone in town plus their second cousin removed converging on the grocery store at the same time. This means ridiculously long lines, ridiculously slow moving people, and aisles you cannot enter or exit because of the traffic jam of carts, wailing kiddos and sunburned tourists. So, pretty much it was the worst idea I have ever come up with.

As I’m trolling the aisles looking for my products of choice, I encountered upon a health care professional looking cute as a button in her pastel scrubs, her pony-tailed hair and 4’11”, 75 pound frame. I instantly hated her. I don’t even know why. But hate her I did… with the passion of a thousand burning hell fires. I smiled and nodded at her as we passed with our carts, and tried to subdue the bitterness now building up inside of me. I gathered my pre-packaged ham, my potato chips, my Wonder Bread, my microwave popcorn, my naval oranges and my frozen pizza and headed to the checkout counter.

But as luck would have it, the only line open was the one in which “Nurse Adorable” was last in line, which meant I had to take a spot directly behind her. Even the way the woman unpacked her cart was annoying. She was one of those people who is compelled to group like-things with like-things. As though having the tin foil sitting next to the salad dressing on the conveyor belt will cause mass confusion for the clerk and the entire world will explode into utter chaos. So, here she is separating her paper products from her produce and her produce from her dairy products and her dairy products from her canned goods and OH MY GAWD, it was so freakishly annoying. Who is that anal retentive about unpacking their grocery cart?! (I mean, except my mother, and she’s old, so she totally has an excuse.)

I fought the urge to roll my eyes and waited “patiently” for my turn to load my groceries onto the counter. But suddenly I felt horribly inadequate as I watched her load up her gluten free cereal, her whole grain bread, her organic produce, her granola, her preservative-free deli meat and her quinoa and flax seed. (What the heck IS quinoa and flax seed anyway?! Does anyone even know or are we just purchasing these things in order to look cool to the REI crowd? I’m pretty sure it’s the latter.) Anyway, it occurred to me that as soon as I loaded my preservative-laden crap food on the counter, I was going to be judged by Nurse Adorable. She was going to look me over, notice my flabby upper arms and think (with an air of superiority), that I too could be as petite and adorable as she was if I would just eat right. Clearly, those super foods allowed her to maintain her petite frame. (They clearly also caused her stunted growth which resulted in her topping out in the height area at the age of ten.)

I was terrified of unloading my cart because it would have been a perfect illustration for any children’s health book on how to eat and how not to eat… And I was in the “How not to eat” category. In my defense, I never eat frozen pizza, but I was exhausted and the thought of cooking for myself was just unbearable. And normally I would get the preservative-free deli meat but the other stuff is just so much cheaper. AND, my naval oranges and organic microwave popcorn look kinda healthy, so that totally counts, right?


No, Annie. No, it does not.

ANYhoodles, it was finally my turn to unload my cart, and as I was doing so, Nurse Adorable actually gave me the stink eye as I set my frozen pizza down on the counter. I’m not making this up. I thought my fear of being judged was all in my head, but here was little Miss Ponytail, eyeing up my purchases, quietly judging me and my flabby arms. I mean, she actually looked at my food, looked at me, looked at her food, and then looked at me again with this completely judgy look on her face. I almost expected her to launch into some sermon about “You know that stuff will kill you, don’t you?” As though I had just plopped down a carton of Camels, a 24-pack of Budweiser and beef jerky down on the counter. Who is she to judge?! I eat healthy… sometimes. MOST of the time. Just not tonight. On the one night I decide to eat like crap, I get in line behind you?

I knew I hated you when I saw you, Nurse Adorable. I’m sure you’ll pack up your groceries in your Subaru Outback, head off for a quick Zumba session at the gym, pick up your sixteen athletic kiddos (I saw how much food you had in your cart. You are clearly feeding the Duggars.) for a family dinner of white rice and organic stir fry vegetables before heading out into the backyard (pesticide and dandelion-free) for a quick game of touch football before bed (complete with bamboo sheets and hypoallergenic pillows).

Me? I’m going home to feast on my preservative-laden pizza and fantasize about punching you and everyone like you in the face. Sound good? Good.


I’m never going to the grocery store again.


Annie Emmy Evans



Bitter Guest Post – Matti of Schnitzel Adventures – “The Bitterness of Being a Woman”

Ms. Schnitzel looking a lot less bitter than she normally is.

Matti looking a lot less bitter than she normally is.

First up on the Bitter-Ben-is-on-vacation-and-doesn’t-want-to-do-anything-on-it-so-he’s-having-guest-posters-do-all-his-work-tour is Matti from Schnitzel Adventures. Her area of expertise in bitterness is being a German living in America.  We both share a disdain for the very few holidays in America, and disdain for Grumpy Cat, who is making tons of money being bitter while we are much bitterer and much poorer since we don’t get paid for it.  She’s going to discuss a subject I have no idea about(being a woman) so have never blogged about before. Go check her blog out at Schnitzel Adventures.

“The Bitterness of Being a Woman”

When I read that Ben was looking for guest bloggers, I was like ‘Hell YESS!’. Then he messaged me and told me that I can’t swear on his page, which made the decision a little harder for me since I swear quite a bit. I’m German and we can swear all we want. There are no speed limits and no cursing rules and a never ending supply of sausages. And you Americans think you live in the promised land? Think again!

But seriously, I give Ben mad props (I hear that that’s what the kids say these days) for being bitter and yet always staying classy and contained. The Bitter Blog was one of the very first blogs I stumbled across when I created my own blog about 3 months ago. I instantly loved it because like him, I also am bitter about a lot of things. In fact, I’m so bitter that my boyfriend’s only nickname for me is ‘sourpuss’. He either calls me by my first name or by sourpuss and calling me by my first name is probably even more alarming to me than being called sourpuss. It feels like my mother telling me off for not cleaning my room. So everytime he says ‘Mattea’ (which, as you might guess, is my first name), I automatically start cleaning or apologizing. I am pretty sure that that’s how he made me his hausfrau slave that I am today.

So while Ben is on vacation probably being bitter about the weather, the accommodation and the fact that he is on vacation itself, I want to talk to you about something that makes me bitter. A topic that Ben can not relate to and that has been ignored on this blog all along- It’s being a woman.

Being a woman has not always annoyed me. I was a tomboy for most of my childhood until I hit puberty and everyone started to care about make-up and clothes and boys. And that’s where it starts already! The source of all evil: BOYS. Boys are responsible for 99% of all woman troubles. There’s always something wrong – Either a man is too nice or not nice enough or he wears the wrong socks…we always find something to be unhappy about. While guys mostly just think about sports, food and breasts, women think about EVERYTHING else. Do you even know how many thoughts are going through our heads all day? At least 10 times a day I have to call my girlfriends and discuss and interpret your actions, e.g.  the way you ate your sandwich this morning before you left the house to go to work. You really chewed on it unusually long which could mean you didn’t want to leave to go to work, which could mean that you got fired or that you have another woman who also makes sandwiches for you and that’s why you couldn’t finish another sandwiches so quickly! That’s probably it.

But in order to even have a man we can worry about and drive insane, every woman has to compete with a bunch of other women, which is why we have to dress up and wear make-up and act all naive and pretend we never eat or use the bathroom. All my life I had to pretend that I am terrible at math when in reality, I am the granddaughter of Albert Einstein. Ok, that was a lie. I really do suck at math. Big time. Have you ever met a woman who eats a steak on a first date? Didn’t think so. Do you think she does that voluntarily? NO! Women love steak too! I personally don’t, because I’m vegetarian, but you get the point. That poor woman is starving herself to death and has to watch you eat a steak that she would like to devour herself right now, only because she wants to be ladylike and skinny for you. Are you starting to realize how hard it is to be a woman yet? AND I HAVEN’T EVEN DISCUSSED PERIODS, MENOPAUSE OR PREGNANCIES YET! I will spare you the details because I’m nice like that.

I really think I would make a pretty decent male. I know I would never shave and look like Jesus while eating all the food I can find. And still I’d probably have three main chicks and 5 side chicks (yes, I studied my slang) and get paid more than any woman. So since that is not going to happen anytime soon, I think I have every reason to be a sourpuss.



Bitter schnitzel



I’m blogging to you from the Bitter Past

Too legit to quit.

I’m coming to you live from the cruise ship. Cause I’m too legit to quit. 

Hello Bitter Blog Followers.  It is I, Bitter Ben, and I come to you from the Past, because when you read this, I will be soaking in the darkness and bitterness of the moonlight on a cruise ship.  I am obviously complaining to some poor, sad ship worker about something bitter or another and trying to hunt down Mickey Mouse for all the bitterness he has caused me in my life, from waiting in long lines to overpricing all his merch, to providing the highest of expectations of “The Greatest Place on Earth” and underdelivering every time.  To explain this to the slow, I am actually writing this before vacation, and then using some real WordPress magic, as opposed to fake “Disney magic” to transport this post into a future date.  So just so you know, though Disney has more money making ability in its Empire, the WordPress Empire(23% of the web is powered by WordPress) has more practical magic.

This post is to explain that you will be not hearing from me for a week and a half.  I know that is inducing a lot of clapping all across the 23% of the web using WordPress right now, but don’t get too excited quite yet.  I will be having some very bitter Guest Posters covering for me.  Though they aren’t near as bitter as me overall, they do have a lot to offer in some specific bitter ways, and also some are bitter in more broad ways.  Regardless, you will be bittertained.  In fact, after having read all the guest posts presented to me, I imagine that most of you will probably defect to these other blogs, and I will probably return to find my blog as empty as a MySpace Fan Convention.  Also, just because they are substitute teachers, doesn’t mean you should treat them as so.  They will be reporting back to me after this is all over and if I hear any word that you have been anything but bitter about their posts, there will be a Bitter Reckoning.

You're scared now aren't you?

You’re scared now aren’t you?

Speaking of Reckoning, I assume that the Ship of The Mouse will probably not be too pleased to hear all my bitterness, as I don’t think it is allowed there.  So if you hear of a bitter blogger thrown over a cruise ship on the news, you know that is me.  Assume that I will either be lost at sea forever, eaten by sharks, or lost in the Bermuda triangle.  If you do sea(get it?) that, go ahead and contact my family and tell them my WordPress password, and keep sending in Guest Posts to them until my daughter reaches the right age to take over the bitter blog.  If Disney doesn’t throw me over, I will be back Thursday the 17th, and I’m sure I will not be feeling it that day and not want to post anything.  Regardless, I’ll be back and with a bitter vengeance…sometime.

I thought the Carib was supposed to be warm.

I thought the Carib was supposed to be warm.

Until then, I will be having scouts watching you, and…enjoy the time you have away from me.  It will probably be your least bitter time for a while.


Bitter Crusin Ben

Murphy’s Law Friday Giftures

Murphy’s law is the only law I follow all the time.  For instance, I’m always on time or early to everything, which for the most part is a meaningless skill.  But the one time I need to be early, something will always happen to me that causes lateness.  A flat tire, run out of gas, shirts on backwards, I forget to shave.  Another thing that always happens to me? The weather mostly sucks around here.  But whenever I go on vacation somewhere where the weather is always better? The most perfect weather of the year happens here.  It’s not longer just coincidence.  Bitter weather follows me.  When I need to succeed at something finally? I fail hard and fall down on my face.  As Smith from the Matrixes always says, “It’s inevitable, Mr. Gardner.”  Just like it’s inevitable that you are getting gifs on a Friday.

Some days…


…you just start the day on fire. 


But most days…

And other days...

…not even bacon can get you going.


Then you take your morning energy drink of choice…


…and you think you are going to conquer the world. 

So then you go to eat something…

...but you just aren't hungry.

…but you just aren’t hungry.


Then someone asks you to do something...


…that isn’t your job.  


And you’re like sure, then they walk away…


…and you’re like no. 


You end up having to do it…


…but it is a struggle the whole time.  


And the task just seems overwhelming…


…until you finally break through. 


But then it’s lunch time…


…and you lose all momentum. 


But you manage to push through…


…and claw your way to the end. 

Then the person who assigned you the task…

...I just can't.

…tells you they actually didn’t need you to do it.


And the next time you see them you’re like…

...no hard feelings.

…no hard feelings.


A bitter weekend to all. May the bitterness always be with you.


Bitter Freakin Weekend Ben



Almost Bitterly Famous

Don't be jealous of my walking skills.

Don’t be jealous of my walking skills.

I’ve had my brushes with fame in the past.  One time when I was a stupid kid, in about 4th grade, I was outside at recess in the cold South Dakota air, running and sliding on the massive skating rink that was out recess area.  I slid once and hurt my arm.  Nothing big, until later that week, on Sunday at church, I was outside slipping on a icy sidewalk, and for some reason fell down again.  I probably looked like Bambi with my long gangly legs (speaking of Bambi, cause I’ve never seen this movie, is Bambi a boy or girl?) and fell down again.  This time it was off to the hospital for a sprained wrist. The pain was tolerable.  What wasn’t tolerable was the fame that came along with it at school the next day.  “Oh my gosh, what happened?” said the first person.  Story was given in great detail, from the epic battle with the ice beast to the downfall of the evil snow kingdom, because of the sacrifice of my sprained wrist.  Thank goodness for me.  Then another.  “What happened to your wrist?” The regaling of the story, a little bit shorter this time, because class was about to start.  Four days later, from a random 6th grader at the drinking fountain. “What happened to your wrist?” he asked.  Me?”Fell down.”

So, I need to iron my clothes now?

So, I need to iron my clothes now?

Another 2 days of fame.  I was deleting a bunch of emails at work in hopes that if I didn’t see them, I didn’t have to do them.  I get one from WordPress.  Congratulations, you’ve been Freshly Pressed! it says in the subject. Hi Ben! I hope your blog is ready to welcome some new readers — your post will be featured in Freshly Pressed as WordPress.com editors’ pick! Yes, I’m ready.  I immediately go to the post and read it. Why? In. The. World. Did. You. Pick. This. One? I have about 40 other ones that are way better.  I wrote this one as a last second thing on Halloween.  I check the grammar and spelling. I constantly check Freshly Pressed to see if this is the day. It finally comes.  I prepare for the flood.  I get a trickle.  People come. Most of them just hit Like, some comment, but they are mostly inane comments like “Congrats on being Freshly Pressed”.  What am I supposed to say to that? Thanks? What a fascinating dialogue. I get some that say how funny I am and say they can’t wait to read more of my posts. I’m like, there’s a 140 post on my blog.  How about you start now? They never come back. Two days later, still the same people that have always followed me.  Return back from my 2 days of fame.  Except with weight of higher expectations on my writing.  On a blog about bitterness.

Thanks for telling me, Dwight.

Thanks for telling me, Dwight.

Every year, for one day, I become the most famous person in my universe of people I know.  At midnight 01, on April 9th, Facebook starts telling people that it’s my birthday.  You should write a note to this person you barely know.  Because your birthday is the same week as the kids in town are off for spring break, someone else takes your birthday before you. So you get to spend it with the co-workers you despise and have to pretend that you’re excited that they told you Happy Birthday.  Because they saw the streamers above you desk.  Your boss pretends to be nice for one day.  Buys a cake on company budget.  Gets you a lame card that everyone is forced to sign.  Everyone signs the same things that people on Facebook did.  All 4 of your siblings and your parents call to wish you Happy Birthday. You go home and more cake, birthday wishes, a present or two you don’t deserve.  You do your annual post on 42 Things you are Bitter about.  Comments are all, Happy Birthday, just like the Facebook, and co-workers one.  You get used to saying thanks for wishing me a Happy Birthday.  One of the 42 things should be birthdays. Because a birthday is your day. But really it’s everyone else’s.

Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne had the right idea.

Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne had the right idea.

So, do I want to be famous? Let’s just say that Tony Stark had the right idea.  Get trapped in a cave, create a suit of amour for protection, one that can fly away.  Then spend all my time in my man cave with my electronics.  No, I don’t want to be famous. When you are famous, you have to talk to people.  When you are famous, you have to get stalked by people.  You have to be admired by people.  I mean, I only look at my face in the mirror twice a week and that’s only because I don’t want to involuntarily become a blood donor (I mean shave.)

The Loch Ness monster, Big Foot, and the Sasquatch seek fame more than I do.  Become an athlete? And have the pressure of winning all the time in order to justify all the money I’m stealing to play a kids game? Become an actor, where my job is to memorize lines, act like other weirdos, and show up at awards shows? I can’t even memorize my wife’s one chore for me on a Saturday.  I can’t even talk into a YouTube camera without being self conscious.  I can’t even be bothered to wear anything but sweats outside of work.

I’d rather be ignored like my alarm clock. Holed up in a mansion created wealth I earned by being someone’s heir.  That got wealthy from doing something boring like selling ketchup to women in white dresses.  Or ice to people in igloo’s.  Fame? Ughhh. No thanks because people.


Bitter Fameless Ben

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The Great American Indoors

Fun little ditch in our backyard.

Fun little ditch in our backyard.

Raise your hand if you’ve been seeing the previews for the upcoming comedy disaster movie staring the Rock and some other people, and based on Grand Theft Auto, San Andreas? OH, you means its already out? Well, little known fact. I grew up in California, in Pasadena, not far from the Rose Parade and was born in a hospital right near a horse race track.  Though my parents would deny being hippies in the 70’s, I think I might have been because apparently I ran around in sandals a lot.  ONLY sandals.  We also had a really awesome water ditch thing in our backyard that we liked to play around in when it got particularly hot in the summertime.  I later found out this little water ditch thing was called the San Andreas fault and that some day in the near future, it would be the star of a disaster movie staring a Rock.  Cool.  That could have been me getting swallowed in a giant earthquake.  I could have been the star of a 53 million opening weekend blockbuster!

Instead, we bitterly moved not long after that, and I was deprived of a natural disaster happening in our back yard.  The worst part though, was that I wasn’t a little older and hadn’t gained the appreciation for a bad pun. Had I been older, and been in trouble outside that San Andreas house, I could have said, “It wasn’t me, mom.  It was San Andreas’ fault.” What that San Andreas house didn’t teach me was the appreciation for The Great American Outdoors. I was deprived of the outdoor experience.  As a lifelong indoorsman, I’ve had people tell me all about this “outdoor” thing and I’ve gotta say, I’ve really missed out. Take it from some random outdoorspeople I talked to about their amazing outdoor experiences.

Ugghh, how do I deal?

Ugghh, how do I deal?

“There’s just nothing like the fresh air you can get by being in nature.” Harriet Hippy – You’re right. All we have on the indoor front is this thing called air conditioning. Sometimes the air conditioning goes a degree cooler and we have to fight our way through the cold.  But you outdoorspeople have it so much easier of a time freezing to death. If you want to freeze to death, you can stay outside, you can freeze in your tents, you can even freeze right next to the fire.

“There’s nothing like a meal cooked over a campfire, or a portable propane stove.” Otto Outdoorsperson  – Well, us indoor people have to use a stove or a microwave.  We can burn our food too, but there’s nothing like the scent of food burning outdoors. Though sometimes the microwave actually accidentally cooks our food just right.  But we can’t suffer from getting all the smoke in our eyes like you, Otto.

Yeah, sounds like you have such breathtaking views outside.

Yeah, sounds like you have such breathtaking views outside.

“The views in nature are spectacular and take my breath away.” Ned the Naturist – Yeah, we really have nothing like nature.  We just have you seen this nature demo on our 88 inch curved screen Ultra HD 4K TV’s that has spectacular views of mountains and forests and natural phenomenon all over the globe.  You guys have that one view that only takes a whole day hike in rainy, cloudy, mustiness. And maybe you forgot your glasses and you were attacked by a bear on your way there.  At least your breath was taken away.  Mostly from all that hiking.

“There’s nothing like setting up a tent that protects you from the elements for the night.”  – Fred Forager – It is true, the Insidist has nothing like a tent to protect them from the elements. Just these four walls with insulation, a waterproof roof, and a blanket fort interconnected with another pillow fort that runs throughout the house.  How do we ever make it through the night?

“The sounds of nature always helps me sleep so much better.” – Nancy Naturesound – You are right, having the symphonic sounds of bears and cougars growling, wolves howling, raccoons snarling, moose grunting, and leopards quietly stalking must always make it easier to sleep at night. All we have are the sounds of Dolby 7.0 surround playing the sounds of silence to help us sleep.

“There’s nothing like the excitement of telling stories with friends around a crackling fire.” Samantha Social – Yes, talking to other people is just so fun! Us insidaficianados have to deal with all the stupid silence of not talking to other people and we don’t get to hear the same stupid lame jokes, from the same stupid people with the same stupid terribly unscary stories.  We have to be tortured inside and have to sit around a horribly uncomfortable couch, and have to deal with sitting around the warm glow of Netflix playing on our laptops.  It is the worst.


See how we can stay up all night for a sunset? 

“My body feels refreshed when I’m outside roughing it.” – Elaine Essential Oil – Yeah, you’re right.  My body just feels so nourished and clean from all those showers I take and they just don’t feel right not having mosquitos bites to itch and scratch and my nails just don’t feel right being so free from all that dirt.  And my hair just doesn’t feel right when it’s not flaky and dry.

Thank you random people of nature for convincing me that going outside is so awesome.  As soon as I finish the internet, I will be right out.


Bitter Indoorsman Ben