Might Whitey, please quit saving the day, you pompous prick.

I hate people trying to prove how not racist they are. Boooring.

Guilt-ridden white Hollywood actors are always trying to prove they aren't racist by doing one of two things. They either play a super-racist character, so when they hit the talk show tour promoting the movie, they can tell everyone in the crowd how it was "so hard for them to play such a vile person, that was nothing like themself- really a stretch." Boooring.

Or these same white actors play some character who was the only white person in the film who would stand up for the poor helpless black characters in the film. Also boooring.

Look, Hollywood actors, we get it! You're not racist. Or at least that's what you want us to say. But aren't those films those guys make where Mighty Whitey comes in and saves the brothas' kind of racist in a patronizing way. It's like they are saying, "I love black people. But they'd be nothing without my heroics!" No? No one else gets that vibe. Well, I'm right and you're wrong.

You know who else I hate? Politicians who have debates with each other on the campaign trail about who grew up poorer. They think this is a noble characteristic. Wrong! I don't want poor people running this country. Look, most of us have been poor at some point in our lives. That's the beauty of our society: economic mobility. In other words, keep working and you'll pull yourself up. But if you come from a long line of poor people for generations on end - especially in AMERICA, the land of opportunity!- then that means you come from a long line of stupid people! And I don't want these people who come from a long line of royal stupidity running my country.

I also hate people who falsely claim they weren't popular in high school. It's as if nobody over 25 ever remembers being popular. You know who you're really majorly pissing off? Guys like me who really weren't popular in high school. We don't want you stealing our victimhood. We earned that shit... that we didn't deserve! And besides, don't you know that there are public records out there called yearbooks? I know if you were Prom Queen - there's a photo of you with a caption! And you're wearing a sash that says "PROM QUEEN!" Don't lie about it now.

In my case, sure, there were some kids who were more isolated than me. But no one else can claim that a hot Senior girl once came up to them with the intention of being sweet and said, "Hey, Roth Wriscey. You know that column I write every week in the school paper about 'The Adventures of Poor Freddy Freshman?' He's you! I just wanted to say thank you. But I'm sure you already knew you were him anyway!"

No! No I didn't. I thought that guy in those stories was a real dork. But I didn't think he was me!I thought this fictitious character was the one guy who was lamer than me!

I know you're wondering, "How did she get all this inspiration from you?" Here's how:

I had no friends my freshman year. No one would sit with me at lunch. These two senior girls that went to my church had the same lunch and they felt sorry for me and did the Christian thing and let me sit with them every day. I knew it was pity, but for once I didn't care. I took it. The senior girl columnist was also friends with these girls and sometimes they would tell her about my plight, not because they were gossipy, but because they felt for me. So the only popularity I had was in the form of some fictitious guy with a different name who was a loser.

I'm glad I was never popular. Honestly, I never wanted to be. I never liked those dudes in that crowd. I did finally make some friends with some awesome dudes in the 10th grade. They were like me: themselves. Not long after that, the popular crowd came calling just like some cheesy 80's teen movie. They made it clear that I could join there side if I would just ditch my boys. Ditch Garlic Boy? Ditch Bravo? Ditch Cadillac? Hell, no! Those were my real friends and I was smart enough to realize it. Ironically, Cadillac's big sister was one of the two church girls who sheltered me at her lunch table the year before when I was a lonely new guy. And I was gonna bail on him? Not a fucking chance! I'm so glad to look back on one aspect of being a teenager and realize how mature I was for a moment. You don't get to do that a lot.

So, in conclusion, I hate Hollywood actors? (That was no conclusion at all. I need to go to writing college. Do they even have those?)