Flipping the fuck out

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~ Jennifer Wilbanks on flipping the fuck out
A wily and violent kitten flips the fuck out on a hapless puppy

Flipping the fuck out, or flipping out is the act of completely losing one's shit, generally followed by a vicious attack on the nearest available target by the flippee.

Although flipping the fuck out is not restricted to any one species, most plants and certain freshwater fish cannot flip the fuck out. Fungi, who you not expect to be capable of such sudden acts of crazed violence, are flipping the fuck out right now on the loaf of bread on your kitchen counter-top.

Some forms of flipping are less dangerous than others, though it is a good rule not to be on the receiving end of a flip out, thereby becoming flipped.

The Physiology of Flipping[edit]

Flipping does not necessarily harm anyone else - physically, at least

It would take someone with an advanced degree in neuropsychology to accurately describe the processes leading to a case of flipping the fuck out, and that someone is not the author. The author did not graduate elementary school, but this did not stop him from teaching himself to read, write, and walk. You would be surprised how hard it is to "get by" in life when you have to drag yourself from point A to point B, just because your parents were too worthless to teach you how to walk. Why did they insist on you being in a stroller or highchair well into pre-adolescence? They won't talk about it, that's for sure. It's like, "hey, Mom, what the fuck?" and Mom's like, "do you have enough socks, dear? You never have enough socks."

The Physiology of Flipping, Part 2[edit]

Due to the mental instability of the author, a second, even less qualified author has been brought in to finish the article - editor

Flipping the fuck out is bad. It does nobody any good. If you flip the fuck out, someone will cry. Maybe they will cry because you hit them. I never hit nobody. Don't hit nobody, it's wrong. Hitting is wrong. Sometimes if you flip the fuck out, you want to hit people. You shouldn't do that. Don't do that. Be nice to people. It's the golden rule, to treat others nice. I treat people nice. I have a doggy, and he is nice. His name is Greg. Greg is a good name for a nice doggy. Greg isn't nice all the time, though. No, he is not. The other day, Anthony came over. Anthony is my friend. He tried to pet Greg, and Greg started to growl. Greg doesn't ever growl at me, but he growled at Anthony. I think Anthony was scared, and then Greg started barking real loud. I told Greg to stop, but he didn't listen. Then he started biting Anthony something real bad. It was bad. I had to hit Greg on the head with a chair to get him to stop biting Anthony. He bit Anthony's face a lot. I'm sad now, because Greg is in the pound, and Anthony is in the hospital. It's lonely. The people at the pound said Greg was going to sleep, but I don't see how. When he misses me, he doesn't sleep much. Oh well. He'll be back soon, and then we can visit Anthony together. I read the other day some lady had a face transplant, and that's good news for Anthony. He'll be fine I think.

The Flipping Process[edit]

As sure as it is no fun to be stabbed with a fondue fork, flipping the fuck out follows a set pattern when executed: equilibrium, escalation, flipping out, and resolution. The following hypothetical (i.e., this really happened but the author is unaware that "hypothetical" means the exact opposite of what he's trying to convey) example involves Fluffy, a cat, and Cynthia, a little girl.


  1. Fluffy is minding her own business, watching birds in the window. Happy feelings are engaged.
  2. Cynthia arrives and begins to pet Fluffy, displaying good intentions.


  1. Fluffy's string of happy feelings are ended because she does not like to be touched by anyone except by Old Man Grumpus.
  2. Fluffy growls at Cynthia, who misinterprets the verbal warning as encouragement. Cynthia is a very slow child.
  3. Fluffy hisses at Cynthia, yet the unwanted petting continues. Fluffy has had just about enough of this bullshit.


  • Three words: claws, screaming and a straight jacket


  • Needless to say, Cynthia never pets Fluffy ever, ever again.

See Also[edit]