Seven reasons I hate dolphins.

So this post isn't going to go over so well, because I am fully aware that you saw flipper once or you saw some dolphins when you were on a boat and some idiot told you that they were amazing, peaceful, intelligent, wonderful animals. And that jerk was the biggest jerk whoever jerked and was obviously trying to get you ruthlessly murdered and you need to reevaluate the people you trust. Are dolphins smart? Sure. Most sociopaths are. Are they peaceful? Why don't you just swim up to a wild dolphin and see how that goes for you. Make sure you bring a rape whistle, because they're pretty rapey. Aside from being rapey (and murderous), here are seven other reasons I hate dolphins.

1. They’re tricky mammals. Come on, dolphin. No one really believes that you’re a mammal. What? Your body is covered in hair, thus scientifically placing you in the class Mammalia? Nope, sorry. Sloths are mammals. Mountain Goats are mammals. It’s also pretty clear that Ron Jeremy is a mammal, but you? Knock it off, Sneaky Pete. Here are some examples of mammals. Also, one of these things is not like the others.

"Oh hey, look at me! I'm a mammal!"

"I am a slightly more irritated mammal!"

"I will mammal you allllllll night."

"What's up, bitches. What? Who said I was a mammal? Sure. Ok. Whatever. I'm a mammal."

2. They have conical teeth. WTF, dolphin. What kind of horrible monstrosity has conical teeth? Oh that’s right. Whales. And do you know what whales are? Killers. What’s that, dolphin? Alligators also have conical teeth? Good point, douchebag.

 Conical teeth. Because eyeball.

"I have conical teeth, just like that rapey, murderous dolphin."

3. The butterfly stroke. Have you ever tried to do the butterfly stroke? A better question: have you ever seen me try to do the butterfly stroke? Have you ever seen a dolphin do the butterfly stroke? These assholes don’t even have to use arms. Hey, dolphin, quit making me look bad by setting an unrealistic standard for us real mammals.

JennieB: A picture of grace. Also not built for aerodynamics.

4. They’re smug assholes. Seriously. Have you ever seen a dolphin that didn’t look like it was mocking you for reading Us Weekly and watching Ghost Hunters while you sat on the couch and ate rice with cheese and butter and Doritos crushed into it, and also you drank an entire six pack of Dr. Pepper? Get a life, dolphin. Not all of us are skinny. Holy Christ.

Dolphin mocking you for reading Us Weekly, watching Ghost Hunters, eating cheesy rice and drinking a six pack of Dr. Pepper

5. They’re horrible actors. Dolphin, do you honestly believe we think for even a second that you care about that child?

"And that was the last time anyone saw Timmy alive."

Not on your life. All you care about is pretending to be a mammal and swimming all day. And maybe eating fish and raping defenseless creatures. What would have happened if, instead of your bit part in Titanic, you were cast as Jack?! That would have been a disaster!

Dolphin: Bit part in Titanic.

Actual actors

Dramatization of terrible disaster

6. You can’t eat them. Dolphin, I eat mammals. As the top mammal, I get to decide who I eat and how delicious they are. No photos are necessary here, because it’s just a fact.

7. Dolphins are mindless killing machines. Dolphins, if you get together in groups of two, take on, and then defeat, great white sharks, what the hell would you do to me if I met you in a dark alley?! If you can beat this guy I do not even want to begin to image what you would do to me! It would be like having a nightmare about dinosaurs with teeth made of razorblades, and on top of that dinosaur is a shark with a battering ram shaped like a fist, and on top of that shark with a battering ram shaped like a fist is some sort of meat grinder. And then they all catch you. That’s what you’re like, dolphin, and that’s why I hate you.

Dolphin: "Oh that guy? That guy's a pussy."

Dolphin: "Oh hey, Larry. Your vagina is showing."

How a dolphin would beat me up in a dark alley.

A dinosaur with teeth made of razorblades, and on top of that dinosaur is a shark with a battering ram shaped like a fist, and on top of that shark with a battering ram shaped like a fist is some sort of meat grinder

Cleanse diet shame spiral

Have you ever eaten yourself into a food-induced coma, woken up sick and thought: “maybe I should try to implement some sort of eating disorder?”

(Side note: eating yourself into a food-induced coma is a sort of eating disorder.)

And then you look at cleanse diets online. And then you turn off your computer because looking at a diet that allows you half a cup of broth and the leaves from celery stalks makes you hungry for nachos or a hotdog or some sort of microwaved butter-sugar-bread concoction.

And then you turn your computer back on because in addition to the nachos and hotdog and microwaved butter-sugar-bread concoction you seemed to have also eaten seventeen cups of guilt and the combination tasted like shame and you realize that you must look like Sloth from the Goonies because you’re a horrible, shameful monster.

Fig. 1.1
Probably what I look like after I eat nachos.

And then you look at the cleanse diets again and you look for the one that suggests you take in the least amount of calories in the longest amount of time because starvation is the only option at this point and then you see all of the medical warnings that say THIS WILL EFFING KILL YOU, PLEASE DON’T DO THIS, I SWEAR YOUR HEART WILL EXPLODE AND YOU WILL DIE  A LAYNE STALEY DEATH ALONE IN YOUR APARTMENT AND THE DOG WILL EAT YOU AND THE AUTOPSY WILL SHOW THAT YOU ATE NACHOS AND A HOT DOG AND BUTTER-SUGAR BREAD.

Fig. 1.2
If you can't read this, it says Layne Staley died alone and no one could ID him. Yowza.

And then you ignore the warnings because you look like Sloth from the Goonies and think about how lemonade and cayenne pepper and maple syrup would probably taste a little like spicy lemonade and drinking salt water to ‘expel toxins’ is fine because supermodels do it, so you’re sure it’s not technically part of an eating disorder and then you send the cleanse diet to your healthy sister who says THIS WILL EFFING KILL YOU, PLEASE DON’T DO THIS, I SWEAR YOUR HEART WILL EXPLODE AND YOU WILL DIE A LAYNE STALEY DEATH ALONE IN YOUR APARTMENT AND THE DOG WILL EAT YOU AND THE AUTOPSY WILL SHOW THAT YOU ATE NACHOS AND A HOT DOG AND BUTTER-SUGAR BREAD.

And then you decide that she’s crazy, you can survive indefinitely on 200 calories per day, and you’re going to the store to buy lemons and maple syrup and cayenne pepper and some type of sea salt and you’re excited because you’ll be spending ten dollars a week on groceries. But then you look at the television and there’s a documentary about ghosts on in addition to a weather warning that clearly states your county, at least part of it, is about to suffer apocalyptic thunderstorms and it would be irresponsible to drive in a possible thunderstorm. So you stay home, watch a documentary on ghosts, make a glass of actual lemonade with about five cups of sugar, find a piece of cheese from the nachos in your bra and start a blog instead?

Fig. 1.3
What shame tastes like

That was pretty much my day.