Dear Buffy Nation,

Things I don’t understand fall into one of two categories: (1) don’t know/don’t care, and (2) WTF? Since my parents and possibly a few pastors follow my blog, I’ll rename category two: things I don’t freakin’ get.

This afternoon, someone was driving by my house and actually pulled over to debate this very topic. I fell asleep on the sidewalk.

Let’s skip category one and dive straight into category two, shall we?

Tops on category two’s list is the ridiculous reference by Aggies to the University of Texas as “tu.” Frankly, it’s ignorant. I didn’t go to The University of Texas, nor did I go to Texas A&M. I went to UMS (in Aggie speak). If I had gone the super-size me public school route, U.T. would have won hands down because I could have walked on the grass and wouldn’t have had to squeeze my crotch at sporting events.

Just under idiotic references about other schools are idiotic posts on Facebook groups. Just today, someone posted about getting a plastic surgery procedure and a group member warned her about being “under Anastasia for three hours.” Equally mind numbing are these posts that I could rip to pieces like a high-capacity shredder:

• Car question. Should we get a nice sedan?
• Need recommendations for my son’s birthday party tomorrow.
• Gross question. Has anyone had an animal die in their walls?
• Where can I get a grilled cheese sandwich?
• What’s the best brand of baby wipes, or should I just wet a paper towel?
• Can someone tell me how to (Buffy here, and I’m not even going to tell you what that one was about).

I’m an equal opportunity nitpicker, and Little League dads are up next. I have nicknames for many of them, and my favorite — actually my least fave — is Mr. Kravitz, the male counterpart of Mrs. Kravitz on my favorite childhood TV show Bewitched. Cravitz is sooooooooooo up in everybody’s business because he has waaaaaaaaaaaay too much time on his suspicious hands. More than once, I saw Kravitz park his wheels a block or two from the fields, and then peak around corners and from behind trash bins to make sure no one was using “his” fields. Kravitz got mad at the league this year and took his bat and ball elsewhere. I feel sorry for elsewhere.

Next up: bikini photos on Facebook. Sure, it’s possible to post a tasteful swimsuit photo of beach frolicking on family vaca, but 99.999999999999999999999999 percent of the photos I see are of tiny Triangl swimwear on teens, mommies with vavavooom implants and the 30a crowd — that’s a place, not a bra size — making sure we all know it’s vacation rental week.

I may have things out of order, because exercise photos also rank high on the list. I’m saving that rant for another blog day.

Constant chatter about elementary/middle/high schools has almost put me in a coma the past two weeks. Thanks to acceptance letters that went out recently, parents are fighting for airspace to debate “the best school,” which I have politely and weirdly blogged about. Missed it? Scroll down.

All this ridiculousness is enough to make Buffy bitchy, only Buffy has farrrrrrrr too much on her plate these days to give it much more thought beyond wondering FTW?