But there is a time and a place for this "lively debate" to occur. The following is a list of places that are NOT APPROPRIATE VENUES in which to argue with me. Ever. About anything.
In my own home
If you come into my house and want to argue with me about something I believe in, you'd best turn your ass around and get right the hell out. My house is my castle, and I am its Queen, and you are nobody. You hear me? Nobody.
That's right, motherf***er.
[I feel like this is a good time to throw in my definition of "argue." I don't mean argue as in 'politely disagree' or 'question'. I mean it like argue. Like I've made my position clear and your dumb ass won't drop it.]
Let's say, for example, that you've come over to clean my floors (why the hell else would you be in my house? To hang out with me? No. I don't like you enough to have you over for a social visit) and you notice my stash of cloth diapers in the laundry room. Your children all wore disposable diapers, so you're curious about my decision.
You ask me, "so why did you decide to cloth diaper?" and I respond with some of the reasons I laid out in this post. So far, you have done nothing wrong. We are still good.
Then you follow up with, "well, if you think about the amount of extra laundry you have to do, it's not really that much cheaper and it's no better for the environment. My kids all wore disposable and we never had a big issue with blowouts."
Now you are on some thin ice, my friend. (well, not my friend -- you're just in my house to clean my floors, remember?). But I, polite motherf***er that I am, simply nod and say "I'm very happy with my decision and I continue to recommend cloth diapering to anyone with patience enough to deal with the extra laundry."
But you're not done yet, no sir! "Well, the whole thing seems like a big waste of time and money to me," you toss in, anxious to have the last word in this argument that you started with me in my own home.
At this point, I grab the Planet Wise wet bag that we keep all the dirty diapers in as they wait for the laundry. I act like I'm about to show you something that will help to change your mind, unzipping the bag and moving closer to you. And just as you peer into the bag to see what I'm about to show you, I TURN IT UPSIDE DOWN AND SHOVE YOUR HEAD INTO THE BAG WITH THE DIRTY DIAPERS AND THEN ZIP IT SHUT AROUND YOUR NECK SO NOW YOUR ENTIRE HEAD IS SURROUNDED BY DIRTY PEE AND POO DIAPERS AND THERE'S NO AIR FOR YOU TO BREATHE JUST PEE AND POO FUMES AND AS YOU DANCE AROUND TRYING TO GET THE BAG UNZIPPED I KICK YOU IN THE KIDNEYS FIFTEEN TIMES.
"How come you're a stick figure in this drawing but I'm not?"
Have you learned nothing from this picture? DON'T ARGUE WITH ME. I AM CORRECT ALWAYS.
This is why you shouldn't argue with people in their own homes. Because it's rude.
On my own Facebook page
"But the Internet is public! Free speech! First Amendment! Rahhh!" you whine, still upset about the whole diaper-bag-on-your-head incident.
And you are correct, in a sense.
But my Facebook page is not "the Internet." It's my flipping Facebook page. It is a museum of ME, founded by me and curated by me. I control all the content, and I also control the visitors. If I have accepted your friend request, that means I've allowed you to enter my Me Museum ... but I still reserve the right to deny service to anyone for any reason.
For example, if you post pictures like this and I accidentally look at them.
And that means you'd best not argue with me in my museum, you f***er.
Once again, keep in mind that 'argue' does not mean 'question' or 'politely disagree'. If I post something that you vigorously disagree with or find offensive, you may say something to that effect. But you only get one comment in which to disagree with me, and you'd best do it in a way that respects me as the curator of the museum
What will be gained from continuing this argument? Will you convince Geena? No. Will you annoy Geena? Yes. Will you annoy yourself? Almost certainly.
DO NOT FALL INTO THIS TRAP. ONE COMMENT, THEN JUST MOVE ON.
I've talked previously about the process of getting yourself unfriended on Facebook, but I'm telling you now, there is no quicker way to do it than to argue with me on my own page. I will delete a motherf***er like they never even existed. Watch me. I don't care! I do what I want! I'm ca-raaaaaaazy!!!
And while we're at it, don't argue with my friends on my Facebook page either. I like them more than I like you. You just clean my floors, remember? Unfriended, shitbag.
On my blog
I can delete your comments faster than you can write them.
By the way, isn't that a great-lookin' drawing of a face?