Friday, October 7, 2011

Things I don't do...

Continuing from this post... 

I'm not a fucking mind reader, so, I'll probably never nail down the EXACT specifics of what THAT person was whining about, but here's my stab at it.

What I don't do.

Read minds. 

I'm not even going to try.
Fuck you if you expect it.
Tell me what your beef with me is, or fuck off with inflicting your vindictive pettiness or just plain blubbering on me. 

Likewise, not going to play childish schoolyard  games with "signals", or "vibes".

Do detective work.

See "read minds", not gonna find out what your beef with me is by following a flimsy blurred trail of clues.
Likewise, not going to go through a wall of go-betweens like a high-schooler seeking a date.
Communicate with me, or fuck off.

Massage egos.

Not even to save my life.
Fuck your ego.

Massage the bruise.

That one jumped out at me, and caused an instant eye roll in this post.
See "massage egos".

Mindlessly shoot the shit.

Hey, I'll talk a blue streak about shit that genuinely interests me with people who I like, and who like me, or whom I just plain assume are interested.
I won't talk about the weather (unless it's really fucking impressive, and of note) or sports, or guns, or the mere act of occupying space, especially with people I don't know all that well.

Likewise, I'm not gonna put on a fake tour guide/stewardess grin, and ask you how the fuck your day was.

All this shit would probably diplomatically warm things over with people that have this cat-like instinct to want to see other lifeforms around them move around more, and I'm sorry if the opposite of this makes  me "look like Lurch", but, sorry, I think it's insincere to put on a mask contrary to how I feel, and I don't think social games like that serve either of us in our human dignity.

Now, what you're probably expecting is not that I put on the social mask, but that I genuinely have the emotions involved with "*stewardess grin* hiiii how has your day been? Blah blah blaahh!!", but, I usually don't, and if I do have those feelings, I don't express them that way, that's just not the kind of person I am.
I'm not bubbly.
Even on the rare occurrence I FEEL bubbly.
So...what you're asking of me (without bothering to ask, I'm supposed to mind-read this bullshit) is some kind of conformity standard of how everyone "should be".

Hmm, scratch those previous "sorrys", while I'm at it.
In fact, kiss my ass.

Life isn't your video game for me to march through like a sprite.
If you see life that way, YOU'RE the sociopath, not I, and your moronic whims based on a 3 year old's emotional mental wiring won't be accommodated in the least.

"Be nice".

Oh, don't get me wrong, I'll actually objectively BE nice.
I don't want you to fucking die just for existing, and I'm not gonna break your shit, I'm not gonna urinate on pictures of your children, I'm not going to spit out your cooking to be a contemptuous dick like a judge on the Food Network, I'm not going to vandalize your car or home.
If you're in a fix, I'll even reach out a hand, and help out, or offer advice.
It may not be the advice you want to hear, and my physical help might be clumsy, but I'll really do my best.

I think that's pretty nice.

I just won't participate in the phony social ritual bullshit described above.
If you think that stuff is "nice", then no, I guess I'm not nice.
I guess we part ways on what we think that word means.

But, if you think I deserve property damage and pain for this "attitude", well, fuck you with a red rubber dick.
Your moral high ground, if it ever existed, vanished, and if you don't see that, fuck you for being a moron.
And if you're a destructive moron, I won't be "nice", about it.

Which leads right into...

Suffer fools gladly.

If you're a horrifying moron, the best you're going to get out of me is I don't run around going "you're a horrifying moron".

That's it.
If you think "my actions", are calling you a horrifying moron, or "my vibe", is doing it...
Yeah, probably, congratulations on being a fucking mind reader.
Again, I'm NOT a mind reader, I can't mind read back what you think you've mind read off me.
Fucking SAY something, or leave me the fuck alone.
Maybe what you thought was "a scary look", was actually me looking past you, and fucking thinking about cake or something.
You're gonna bust my windows because I had a stray thought about a fucking sandwich, or some nice tits?
Yeah, but I'M the one with the "bad people skills".
Yeah, right, bite my ass.

All I can think of for now....

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