Why Would I Write

Category: Rants

  • Frustrating Investigations

    During the lockdown, I’ve had some time to catch up on shows that I hadn’t watched before and a large chunk of them turned out to be crime/investigation series. While I enjoyed watching the shows (i.e. Broadchurch, The Stranger, Safe), there was something that irked me a lot about all of them – the people interviewed by the police are never upfront about the truth!

    Everyone seems to have something to hide, and for some reason, they don’t care enough about the murdered victim to be upright with the cops. Because by the end of the show, I find myself thinking – this would have all been over in a day instead of weeks if they had spoken up initially.

    Sure, it makes sense if guilty people are hiding the truth, but the majority of these people are just bystanders or have nothing to do with the case! Yet they keep silent even when opening up wouldn’t get them into trouble.

    I’m sure it’s just the writers’ way of dragging the show past a single episode, but wouldn’t it be more compelling if detectives had to do actual crime-solving instead of verifying false statements? It’s obviously working because I keep watching these shows, but whenever the series end, I feel like I’ve wasted my time.

    Maybe I’m just watching the wrong shows, but Netflix recommended them to me and they were interesting enough to sit through. So, whatever. It’s my own fault for indulging in them. I frustrate myself. Ugh.

  • The Case for Diet Soda

    One thing I’ve noticed since switching to diet soda is that I get a lot more people chiding me for my drink of choice compared to back when I drank regular soda.

    I get it, drinking either form of soda is unhealthy, there’s no need to tell me that. Plain water is always the better choice (sparkling ftw btw). It’s nice to have the taste of a sweet beverage on your lips every now and then. Like the occasional pint of beer I drink – funny how I never get any flak for that.

    Anyway, I’m not here to change anybody’s minds about drinking diet soda – it’s like religion. People can drink or believe in whatever they want, just don’t force your preferences onto others. However, I do want to clear the air on the topic.

    While doing some research for this post, I came across this video and it sums up everything better than I ever will (it even has sources):

    If you don’t have 24 minutes to watch it, here’s the lowdown: consuming a safe level of Aspartame does not increase your risk for any disease. Don’t drink more than 24 cans of Diet Coke a day and you’ll be fine. So, you can stop spreading tales about how I’m going to die faster because that’s not true. There’s no concrete evidence to say otherwise.

    Also, as an active smoker, I can probably say that being killed by diet drinks is the least of my concerns.

    For people arguing over how ‘natural’ foods are always going to be healthier vs something created in the lab – just because something is artificial doesn’t mean it’s bad for you. Whether something is made in a lab or found in the wilderness does not determine the safety of food substances. Perfectly safe substances can be made from toxic materials and vice versa. There’s also tons of shit out there not made in labs that are harmful to humans.

    For the record, diet Dr. Pepper tastes like ass. It’s the only non-diet soda I drink these days. Occasionally I’ll drink a regular Coke or Pepsi when their sugar-free variants aren’t available, but I’ll usually order something else instead.

  • Angry at a Thief

    Angry at a Thief

    “Life is what you make it” is a common phrase that I say all the time and believe in. Sometimes it becomes interesting even if you don’t do anything. I guess you could say this was my fault, but let me begin.

    I leave my flip flops outside, on the welcome mat of my home. I have been doing that for years with no issues until a couple of days ago. There’s always a first time for everything.

    As I was about to head out of the house in the afternoon, I realized my flip flops were missing and in their place was a hideous pair belonging to a stranger. “What the fuck?” I exclaimed.

    I asked my mom if she had brought my flip flops into the house – negative. I told her that they were gone. She laughed. I wasn’t so amused about it.

    They were my favorite pair of flip flops! And they weren’t cheap! And last I checked, Miniso had stopped selling them. I was pissed off. Immediately, I began to wish the worst upon whoever had switched my footwear. I was talking to myself, calling the thief all sorts of names. My mind began generating evil thoughts – leaving out another pair of flip flops with diseased needles protruding from the bottom, the thief getting his/her foot trapped in an escalator, the thief stumbling down a large flight of stairs to their death – everything under the sun. I had never hated someone as much as I did that day.

    It took me a day to cool down until I returned home and saw that my flip flops weren’t on my welcome mat, which reminded me of that miscreant. I was still mad.

    I haven’t been this angry in a while. I know my words don’t hold any power, but it is cathartic to let it out.

    To the owner of the flip flops above (who knows if they were stolen too): fuck you, you lowlife degenerate. I hope stealing my flip flops will be the cause of your downfall. May you and your family be plagued by foot diseases, victims of abuse, and robbed blind. Sooner rather than later. You don’t deserve such comfortable footwear.