Credit Bitterness


Helping kids cry since before the millenium.

Helping kids cry since before the millennium.

All day long at work, I am Santa Claus. Or, more accurately, Bitter Claus. I enter credits. I reign money down upon undeserving corporations like rain comes down on Seattle. I go down people’s virtual chimneys and leave the present of credit in their email boxes.  Even though most of these corps are naughty, I deliver something nice.  Credit passes hands, and I am the delivery boy.  Except unlike Santa, I deliver 265 days a year (Bitter Clause doesn’t work weekends, fools) instead of one. Since I am so practiced at giving credit, and you know what they say, you gotta give credit where credit is due, I am going to give credit to some other people, places and things today.

I’d like to give a credit all my bosses, teachers, civic leaders, government authority, wanna be mentors, etc. for thinking it was okay to boss me around, or tell me what to do.  This helped me come to the bitter conclusion that I am don’t heart authority.  Thanks for making me realize how to be bitter in so many ways.


Yeah, I hate the news too. 

Here’s a credit to the media.  I’d like to thank them for their endless search for the “truth” no matter how over the top, unnecessary, or unwatchable it is.  Your obsessive need to report about the biggest idiots to the smallest crimes lead you to report all things bitter.  Ebola, local murders, national murders, mainstream murders, bad weather storms, government laws, tax raises, street awareness, car accidents, crimes against humanity and worst of all crimes against my interest.  It’s because of these things, that I avoid you.

I’d like to give credit to every mosquito that bit me, every ant that annoyed me, every bee stung me, every invisible spider web that made me look like a mental patient, every mouse that wandered our pantry, every bird that woke me up in the early morning and every bear that ate me at night for helping me not like nature.  I don’t come in your forest, don’t come in my house.

A clinic on how to ball hog.

Now THAT is how you ball hog!

I’d like to credit sports, for teaching me about team selfishness.  Basketball taught me the fundamentals, like how to be a ball hog, how to dribble a lot between my legs, how to take the ill-advised contested three and how to look at the stat sheet instead of the final score.  I give credit to baseball for teaching to swing for the fences, instead of getting on base, that three strikes and you’re out. I’d like to credit soccer for teaching me how to be bored, whether it was being a goalie or watching it or paint dry.  I’d also like to thank all those sports for my bad knees, bad shoulder, bad back, and lack of riches they didn’t provide me while missing being a pro by this                                                                                               much.

I’d like to credit restaurants for teaching how quickly I can get full.  A little soda, a lot of appetizers and some really big eyes have made for some very good looking leftovers, a cramped stomach, and pants that need some hemming and a button that can be easily unloosed.

I’d like to credit phones for teaching me how to react just like Pavlov’s dog every time I hear a ring.  (I’m talking like a caveman now.) Phone ring, must answer.  Caller ID say number might be friend, it telemarketer.  It might be day off, but answer call in case it emergency and it just boss asking to work extra shift.  It might be 2 in morning, but answer call, cause might be emergency, just parents calling from Hawaii, forgot time change.

This is one way to get through traffic.

This is one way to get through traffic.

I’d like to credit traffic for teaching me the most inefficient way to get home, how to waste the most gas possible, and a more efficient may to spread rage.  If you are angry at work or home, you can only affect a few, but if you rage in traffic, you are a mobile rage transporter.

I’d like to credit my elementary school cafeteria for teaching me how to fight for the first spot in line, my high school cafeteria for teaching me to fight with other kids, and my college cafeteria for showing me how to fight with food.

I’d like to credit Walmart for teaching other people how to fight for a $99 TV that is already broken, for teaching me how to only open two of the 24 registers, how to stuff as much stuff in the aisles so there is only enough room for zero people to walk in them, and how to appreciate Target so much.

I’d like to credit all my followers for…following me where ever I go.  In the grocery store, in my car, at home.  It’s all a little creepy.  Can you just not? Okay, I gotta go.

I know this sounds like a farewell speech.  No, I’m not dying.  Unfortunately for you, and fortunately for me, I’m not going away.  Not now, not next week, maybe in a couple of weeks, but after that, never! Until never seems like too much work.

Make me your second place! (or first loser)

Make me your second place! (or first loser)

Remember to visit the Weblog Award Page and help me meet my goal of second place finish in the 2015 Weblog of the Year. Voting ends this Sunday, March 22nd at 10 pm EST so if you don’t want that Boring Science Website to win again, vote for me.  IF YOU VOTE FOR ME, YOU WILL GET EXTRA CREDIT



Bitter Extra Credit Ben


63 thoughts on “Credit Bitterness

  1. WOW, Ben, an triple post of Bitter this week! Ya know, you really oughtta follow doctors’ orders and start gulping down that Prozac-y stuff again cuz, the bitter vibes are starting to burn my retinas/soul/coffee cup beside me and every mailbox between here and Seattle, LOL.

    That said, I will definitely vote for your blog but only in an attempt to prevent more of your vitriolic prose from searing the TUBES (a la Mr. Gore and the Internet-y thing he definitely did NOT invent) between Bitter Ben and all of us mere humans reading your yatta, yatta, yatta, LOL.

    While I get your message here in regard to sports, I have to disagree. While, yes, sometimes sports focus on the the wrong aspect of playing baseball or basketball or whatever. But I firmly believe that my son benefited from playing football and wrestling, both of which gave a very shy kid a lot of confidence. It also taught him boundaries as in life is often black and white. The ball either goes in the basket, or it doesn’t – though, of course, you can’t always say that about football especially with the constant REVIEWING of calls that goes on. However, sports also taught him to think about the TEAM and not just himself, which is why Tiger Woods could never have been successful playing any other sport because with golf it is only about me, myself and I.

    However, I know what you’re saying in that when you have a bad coach, oftentimes the positive ideals are not part of their (the coach’s or coaches’) wheelhouse of instruction. Alternatively, I totally agree with you about Soccer. The only time I ever fell asleep when Max was playing some sort of team sports was during SOCCER! I’d rather EAT paint than watch it, LOL!

    On the flip side though, I’m sending many SWEET NOTHINGS, BEN, many SWEET NOTHINGS your way! Are you melting yet? 🙂 And, no, all you smut-minded plebes, rip your brains from the gutter, cuz I mean that in a strictly platonic way, trying to temper Ben’s ire.

    And even if I were the cheatin’ sort, which I so am not, t’would be kinda difficult to have a quickie at lunch with Benji and flash back to my cubicle or office hovel here at home before my husband/future supervisor might notice since Mr. Bitter-Kins abode is 3,000+ miles away from mine.

    And, yes, before you ask, I will, once again, have one of those overbearing boss-bast*rds at the con-founded cubicle hell I will be embarking upon once again on 3/23…sigh.

    In which case, I will definitely not read your Bitter Diatribes cuz I’ll have enough to be depressed about 🙂 🙂 – or maybe, I’ll read more of posts more to gauge how well my make Sweeter Ben campaign is going!

    That said, LOVE the whole “stay in the forest” comment. I concur, and that made me smile. However, I love being in the woods, but I don’t bite the mosquitoes, bears or flies when I’m there, and I don’t eat their food either, so BUG OFF, LOL. Get it? Bug. Off? Oh, never mind. You’re too Bitter to laugh. I forgot. But as to the flies/bears analogy, my motto is to live and let live. And you have to admit, that works as well!

    I also love the Santa Photo AND I love your analysis of the media. SPOT ON! And would someone please tell me how it is even remotely considered NEWs to report upon whatever stupid-looking attire Kylie/Krystal/Kandy Kane who gives a crap Kardashian is wearing when she exercises? Especially since she obviously only posts such provocative photos for attention, which the moronic media exploits and exacerbates by their proliferation of her/their (i.e. all the K girls) endless exhibitionism. I would hate to live in their skin. They must be incredibly insecure to constantly need a steady supply of adoration from thousands of brainless strangers!

    And, no, blogging isn’t the same cuz we use our words, to borrow from my former kindergarten teacher curriculum, to express ourselves, which you know, pours forth from our gray matter and not from any- oh, please love me, aren’t I hot photos! 🙂

    Regardless of her/their mindset, for the love of stupidity, that was actually something I saw on a news feed this morning when I was trying to get to, so I’d know whether I needed to take an umbrella to the grocery store or not! Instead, some tabloid blarney assaulted my senses portraying one of the dark-haired K-Girl Misfits who has way too much money for just being PRETTY in some kind of leotard meant to be worn while dancing around a pole, LOL! 🙂

    Anywho, thanks for sharing! Good luck in the OTHER poles, LOL, you know the ones where we vote for Ben for President, or was it best blob? Oops…I meant weblog… 🙂 Or will you be dancing around a pole in a skimpy outfit too, LOL? Just checking and let me know, so I won’t peruse your cyberspace that day…

    Oh, and I’m sorry if I hijacked your blog…couldn’t help myself…:)
    Love and chocolate chip cookies,
    Your Nemesis FOREVER


    • So…I see you had a little to say that you needed to get off your mind. Gotta be honest, it will take me a little to get through this novel of a comment, but I’m sure in the end it will be well worth my time to be bitter about. Anyways, sounds like you have a lot to be bitter about so you are in the right place…where everybody knows you name…


  2. I would like to give YOU credit for souring my milk on a what…3 times a week basis? You need to get out of the house more. Or don’t – it’s awful out here and it sounds like that Marissa Bergen lady is a bit of a stalker…


  3. I just want you to know that I’m writing this comment from the back of your car. I followed you to work and now I’m waiting so I can follow you home but I’m actually gonna be in your car this time. Then I will follow you everywhere for the rest of your life making bitter and inane comments.


    • It sounds like it doesn’t it. I guess you could say I was roasting the world? Or accepting an academy award in the bitterest way possible? Or just ranting at stupid stuff in a different way?


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