When bad things happen to other people, however much it may affect you or annoy you or whatever, it just isn't about you. There seems to be a chronic case of This Is My Pity Party and You Will Bring Punch for everything lately.
Well, I have never liked punch, and I only bring booze to parties, and then only when they have good music or good...herb gardens.
Drafting standards not up to your standards? Well, it's a personal attack, innit? The Engineering Establishment has taken note of your crap drawings and written an entire 1.800 page tome devoted to tearing your personal style apart. Those fucking bastards.
Children at school misbehaving? Well, Teacher person, they're doing it to spite you. Of course. That must be it. Couldn't be they're cranky they can't have recess because of the veritable monsoons outside. No. It's you. They hate you. I think that's obvious.
This is The YOU Show, and no one else's bullshit could possibly take precedence over how you feel about everything. I mean, that's what we're being fed throughout the age of Gen X & Y: we are all special little snowflakes, no matter how idiotic, whiny, self-centered, or just plain fucking stupid we may be. Have an opinion? It matters! Automatically! Isn't a culture of white privellege fantastic? It's like Kindegarten every fucking day, all day, no matter what! I do hope we all still get gold stars. Ohhhh and nap, that was great. I do miss naps.
Point is: Sometimes, no one wants the clammy little two cents that you've been working over in your palm until they are good and slimy and gritty with sweat. You will have to learn to deal with this, suck it up, move on and behave like a god damned grown up.
Seriously.
I mean, the great thing about the interwubs and the tards who opine on EVERYTHING you could imagine is that you can click away to a more amusing page. Which is why Ms Oread don't read dem dere blogs mostly. However...in the meat world...in real life, in meetings at work, in conferences at your child's school, you have to stand there, interact, smile, and nod.
It's a load of bullfuck.
And that, hah, is my opinion on whiny little choads.
2 comments:
"Point is: Sometimes, no one wants the clammy little two cents that you've been working over in your palm until they are good and slimy and gritty with sweat. You will have to learn to deal with this, suck it up, move on and behave like a god damned grown up.
Seriously."
EXACTLY!! thank you.
IV - you are a sensible human, and I am pleased to make your acquaintance (hi! I am FN's daughter!)
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