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1. A welcome relief from someone or something undesirable or unwanted.
2. An American punk rock band
3. A well known song by popular american punk/pop/punk rock (whatever you consider them) band Green Day. Many consider it one of the band's better songs but other fans would rather choose less hyped songs.
1. "get outa my town ya'l hear. good riddance!"
2. "wow Good Riddance ROCK! i love their music!"
3. "yea lyk i <3 green day && im lyk totally the biggest fan bcoz i <3 dat song "good riddance" its fair awsum!!!"
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A formal form of "Bye Felicia"
A: The Bitch got booted out of Big Brother UK
B: Good riddance
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see time of your life for the green day song
It's something unpredictable,
But in the end it's right,
I hope you had the time of your life
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the only green day song that i can't stand because:
a) it's overplayed
b) green day didn't even fucking write it, so it can't be that good
c) a lot of times it's the only green day song that people know, which is a problem because if one song exemplifies green day, it's probably something more like longview than this sappy piece of crap
can we please not sing "good riddance" for graduation like every other fucking class in every other fucking school? if we were having a TRUE green day graduation, no one would show up 'cause they'd be too busy smoking pot at home.
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An idiom or Cliché
Like. He threw himself at her feet!
Goodbye and good riddance is used when you break up with someone. It is
used to indicate that a departure, or loss is welcome.
From all the torment this woman put me through. I couldn't be more glad to see her back as she walked away.
Goodbye and good riddance!
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to rid the area of a bitch or unwanted person
“Becky is being really annoying lately...i’m ready to good riddance a bitch”
A term coined by Mark Moritz in "Cooper's Corner"--December 1990. It is sometimes abbreviated as "GRF."
It is the momentary feeling of euphoria that accompanies the news that one low life has terminated another low life with a gun. In a broader sense though, the end result is the same regardless of the weapon used: the world temporarily becomes a better place, and it was not done at taxpayer expense.
It's a win-win for normal citizens, but the ACLU (a lobby for criminals) loses another prospective client.
Examples include (but are not limited to):
-- A drug buyer gets greedy and kills the drug dealer for his drugs.
-- A pussy gangbanger (aren't they ALL?) pops a cap into another pussy gangbanger in a turf war.
-- A child rapist gets shanked in prison by his fellow inmates.
-- A Longshoreman's Union thug kills a Teamster's Union thug with a garrote.
-- A Shi'ite Muslim terrorist blows up a Wahabbi Muslim terrorist.
-- A Chinese mobster gives his local Communist official acute lead poisoning with an AK-47.
Robert Sherrill is a liberal anti-gun reporter from New York. He wrote a book called "Saturday Night Special," mainly about how bad guns are. In it, however, he raised an interesting point, one that is a dirty secret, something which decent people are not supposed to mention publically:
Of the people killed with guns every year, how many are true "tragedies," and how many are we frankly better off without?
When drug dealer A kills drug dealer B, Handgun Control, Inc., marks it down as a terrible loss to society. In fact, drug dealer B may have been a boil on the butt of society, and will not be missed at all.
When Blood A kills Crip B, Sarah Brady wails "See, you are more likely to kill an acquaintance than a stranger."
When a women kills the man who has been beating her and the kids for years, the anti-gunners say, "If there had been no gun around they would have turned into Ward and June Cleaver and lived happily ever after."
I say GOOD RIDDANCE. One less drug dealer, one less wife abuser, one less psychopathic social parasite suits me just fine.
Certainly some good, innocent people die from gunshot wounds every year, but I wonder how many? Nobody keeps statistics on decent folks vs. dirtbags. So often when I read about a shooting in the newspapers, it seems to occur in the parking lot behind a bar at 3:00 a.m., and the victim has a tattoo of Satan on his arm and a rap sheet like a roll of Brawny paper towels.
Pardon me if I'm not heartbroken about society's terrible loss. Whenever you hear somebody talking about the number of tragic gun deaths, remember to adjust the statistics to take into account the estimated Good Riddance Factor.
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