themisanthropicoptimist.com

Twilights last gleaming but the blood on the ground is still steaming
In a country that never truly existed but lie and half truths persisted
Mediocrity’s smile is beaming, taking place in a nightmare instead of happily dreaming
Few, we oh so few resisted but then defiled with title of being sick, warped and twisted

If you could walk a mile with out knowing where it was you were headed
Lacking a sense of direction you would wind up somewhere that most dreaded
No sign post up ahead to point you out of the comatose affair
But how are you to know when in fact you never gave time to even pretend to care

Sunrise, sunset on this note you will regret to forget
The diversion of conversion is almost past the point of subversion
Upset playing Russian roulette while I’ll take my chances smoking this last cigarette
An ending excursion going from the King James Version to that of complete reversion

*Which could pretty much be anyone, not just a retard. I mean mentally handicapped, err, whatever*

Once upon a time, before Gary Coleman was a criminal but after Mr. T sucked . . .

This isn’t a story about Seth. This is definitely not a story about Sarah or Tiger for that matter. In fact, this isn’t a story at all. Though laced with conjecture, it is a piece on perception and the loss of an appendage; an imaginary appendage but an appendage nonetheless. Have I said appendage enough yet? I didn’t think so . . . now on to that said appendage.
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Addendum (at the beginning not the end): I usually do not change my words after the fact but I feel I must add this detail. No matter how significant this may seem to some I find it odd that one of my most poorly written and least important rants/blog/articles is getting such attention from certain individuals. I do not need a pat on the back for anything I do. I know I am not alone in my line of thinking or how I see the world. I know full well that no one is ever going to agree with me even 50% of the time. But enough is enough. This rant is just that, a rant about a guy whose sole intent is to get a rise out of me. Period. All comments after the fact have pretty much nothing to do with said rant. Sure, it was vague but that was out of respect for me and those I work with. But you would also notice that if you click on the links provided, I was poking fun. New rule: no fun on the internet(s)!

How many times have you been told that you are wrong? I mean total here so factor in the times you actually were wrong, as well as the times you weren’t and then do not forget the times that you were told you were wrong but weren’t. Do you have a really high number? It should, depending upon your age, be in the thousands; most likely the tens of thousands and that is fine, that is in my opinion, “normal”. What isn’t normal is the person who is always fucking right. No matter what they say or do, they are always right and you are an idiot; if not an idiot then what, retarded?
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We are all insane. How can there be any other rational explanation? We constantly repeat the same mistakes over and over again and we subconsciously know that the result will be the same but we secretly think that they will somehow, this one time, turn out differently. We get 30 second sound bites from a candidate and base our vote on it. He said something nice; I’m going to vote for that guy! He’s my man!

Or how about the weather, that is another point of contention I have. It’s going to snow and we need a fucking catch phrase for the so-called blizzard? Snowpocalypse! Really, how gay is that? Snowmageddon! It just proves once more that we are all insane; and gullible; and predictable. They say snow and we run out to the store like it is the end of the world and buy shit we do not need. Milk and bread because they said so and your cupboards must be bare? You should always have enough food just in case and if you don’t well; it’s a little thing that I like to call, “Population Control”. If you do not have the common sense to have food on hand how have you made it this far and who changes your diapers for you?
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Don’t ask me questions. Four words that will solve most of your problems when dealing with people like me. Don’t ask me questions. Now I shall rattle off a list of reasons supporting this statement and logic that will fall upon deaf ears. A small warning to not take yourself so seriously, for if you can not laugh at yourself you have no business laughing at others; strap yourself in, for my protection not yours.

Why do we ask someone a question when we do not really even want to hear a response? Why not save your lip service for someone you truly give a shit about? Don’t ask me how I am doing. The only thing you are doing is wasting precious oxygen. Nice weather we’re having? How about those, “Insert your gay sports team here!”, as if we have some sort of rapport. Don’t waste your breath unless you want to hear what I have to say or the other exception would be if it is part of your job. I mean if you are a Wal-Mart greeter or somehow work with the general public in another capacity, by all means say hello; ask me how I am doing; have at it. Otherwise, well, just shut it.
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