Idiots

If your voice makes milk curdle and people run when it's your turn to hit the mike at karaoke, don't try out for American Idol. And when your glittery eyeshadow and spaz personality that made you the laughing stock since the third grade makes Paula Abdul, the Queen of Nice, piss her pants, you are an idiot.

If you walk up with a full cart, overflowing with 697 cans of creamed corn, to the "15 Items or Less" lane at the grocery store, you are an idiot. And if you choose to fight with the little old lady behind you who only has her pitted prunes and oatmeal to buy, you are also a dick.

If you are a grandmother but still favor low-cut shirts that expose rour Frederick's of Hollywood red lace bra, you are a massive idiot. And probably a slut with wrinkly raisin poon.

If you are saving yourself for your boyfriend who dumped you when you were sixteen, even though he is married, a multi-millionaire, and his wife is a model from Brazil, you are a 42 year-old idiot. And you are probably so fat you drive a Rascal around Target but blame your lack of walking on your bad knees, not the triple orders of chili cheese fries you inhale on your lunch break.

If you hit on the girl who works as a barista at your neighborhood Starbuck's but neglect to notice she vomits a little in her mouth every time she sees you walk in, you are an idiot who has also never gotten laid. And the other local coffee junkies laugh their asses off at your bumbling "moves" you replay every morning at 7:37am. Loser..

If you think no one knows you got a boob job after being mistaken for a 13 year-old boy for years, you are a bimbo who has size G tits and who should also get "IDIOT" tattooed on her forehead. Fess up, Funbags.

If you think no one smells the weed on your clothes after an afternoon clambake in your Escort, you are a stoner idiot. With a savage case of the munchies and ugly dreads.

If you think that all natural deodorant crystal you bought at Whole Foods serves as a body odor deterrent, you are so sadly mistaken. And an idiot. And kindly do not stand next to me in cardio class. You smell like onions. I hate onions.

If you don't think I see your three giant dogs shitting on my lawn every morning as I stand in my front window, you are an idiot. I hope you like your dog dookie smeared under your car door handles, Fuckface. I'm sorry, IDIOT Fuckface.

If you think that no one will notice that you didn't wash your hand after taking a monster dump in the john, then returning to make your 6-inch subs without plastic gloves, you are an idiot. And you just gave dysentery to 14 people on their lunch break from shit skids under your nails. Classy.

If you are one of the Hollywood writers who has been on strike long enough to fuck up all my favorite shows, you are an over-paid idiot. And I bet you're not that funny anyways. Get over yourself and your $250 haircut.

If you think that by not coming out no one really knows you are flamingly gay, you are more wrong than that Barry Manilow tattoo on your lower back. You are more closeted than an All-You-Can-Carry sale in the home organization department at IKEA. Oh, and you are a flaming idiot who wears bun-huggers to the beach.

If you paid $300 per ticket for some scalped Hannah Montana tickets, you are an idiot. You happen to be an idiot I am jealous of because my kids would have had seizures if I got tickets to see that rich little, wig-wearing redneck.

And if your name is Molly Ghahtani and you took Total Conditioning yesterday AND kickboxing today, you are a raging idiot. You are limping like you had a stroke and you can't sit down to piss without screaming in Arabic, which you don't even speak. And you will be a bigger spaz idiot if you try to be a bad-ass and take spin class tomorrow.