Things I Rue

Those of you who know me[1] know that I often tell those who have wronged me that they’ll “rue the day they crossed me”. Those of you who know me also know that this is no idle threat[2] and that when I demand satisfaction, satisfaction is what I get.

Lately however, I’ve been wondering if my constant need to seek revenge against those who’ve wronged me might me a tad excessive. And then, I began to ask myself exactly what it means to “rue” something anyway. After going to dictionary.com [3] if found the following meaning(s) for rue:

–verb (used with object)

1. to feel sorrow over; repent of; regret bitterly: to rue the loss of opportunities.

2. to wish that (something) had never been done, taken place, etc.: I rue the day he was born.

–verb (used without object)

3. to feel sorrow, repentance, or regret.

–noun

4. sorrow; repentance; regret.

5. pity or compassion.

After studying the definition in greater detail, I realized that I didn’t know what rue really meant at all. I thought that rue had a much harsher connotation than it does. I wanted my enemies[4] to suffer[5], not feel remorseful for crossing me. Or, if they did feel remorse, I wanted them to feel remorse because of they pain I inflicted upon them. Upon further reflection, I realized that I needed to reassess my stance towards the word rue and that I should take a page from Michael Jackson’s[6] book and start with the man in the mirror. So I sat down at my computer, and decided to make a list of the things in life that I rue. I should warn you, the list won’t be pretty[7], but it will (theoretically) be entertaining.

Things I Rue[8]

1. When people don’t know how to cuss good… er… well.

David Keuck[9] once said, “Profanity is the common crutch of the conversational cripple.” While I do agree that profanity is seldom ever required, sometimes you just feel a need to let some four-letter words fly to further illustrate your point. I don’t condone it, but personally feel that you’ve got to respect a man (or woman) who works in profanity the way the great masters worked in oil.


Every time you say a swear, this little girl loses a single hair[10].

At this point, you may be asking yourself “But Blake… how will I know when someone is cussin’ right?” I’m glad you asked. The easiest way to tell is to go down to your local skate park, chocklit shoppe, or box social[11] and listen to the first gaggle of 14-year-old boys you find. They are cussin’ wrong, and the way you’ll know that they are cussin’ wrong is because they are stringing far too many profanities together at one time[12]. Sure, those off-limit four letter words are fun to say, but try to pepper your curse-laden diatribes with a few adjectives. I guarantee that people will respect your creativity, and generally overlook the fact that you have a mouth that resembles a burst sewer pipe.

2. Having to poop in a public place

That’s right. I said it. Yes I realize that no one likes to take a twosie in a public place, but I also feel really bad about myself whenever I have to do so[13]. I feel like everyone is standing outside of the stall, laughing at me.


This guy is such a show off.

3. Goth Kids

I get it. You yearn for death’s sweet embrace, and that’s real nice, but must you whizzle on my parade as well? I hate these kids, walking around like the lords of the smoothie cart at the mall, so pale and painfully skinny, with unwashed hair in a rainbow of shades that don’t occur naturally.


No, these aren’t actors at Colonial Williamsburg.
I just want all the Goth kids to do me a solid favor: burn all your Bauhus and Dead Can Dance albums[14], go sit in the sun for a few minutes, and then buy a t-shirt that isn’t black. You’ll notice the benefits immediately[15].

So there you have it folks, three things I rue[16]. I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know if there’s something that you rue, or if you rue the day you read this blog.

Ya’ll stay classy… wherever ya’ll is…

Blakely A-dam Sumner

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[1] And who know of my work

[2] Yes it is. I’m quite a lazy man.

[3] Here’s a friendly word of advice: when typing in dictionary.com on the ole’ Google search bar be sure to spell dictionary correctly. An incorrect spelling will take you to a website you probably don’t want to visit. Unless you’re a freak, then you might like what you see there.

[4] Who are more numerous than one would expect a 28-year-old South Georgian to have.

[5] No, not really.

[6] R.I.P.

[7] But I’ve always assume that if you, the faithful readers, wanted “the pretty” you would go read someone else’s bloggerations.

[8] In no conventional order.

[9] No, I don’t know who he is either.

[10] Sadly, this poor child went bald on February 23^rd, 1997. You should be ashamed of yourself.

[11] Or wherever the heck it is the youngsters hang out these days. I used to be so cool…

[12] Here’s a good rule of thumb: if you say more than three profanities back to back, you’re doing something wrong.

[13] The year that I lived in the dorms was not a pleasant one.

[14] Or whatever the crap it is you freaks call music.

[15] I guarantee your Aunt Nancy will invite you to Thanksgiving again if you do.

[16] I realize that the Goth kids tirade isn’t really something I regret per se, but I just hate those freaks. So much.