A bitter pill, but not for me

I've had a bit of a back-and-forth with a tool.


His initial post.

My response.

The tool's response to my response.

My final smackdown of his monkey ass.


I'd worried that I'd indeed been offensive, or derisive--beyond reason, anyway. That maybe my sarcasm was a little too, as it can sometimes be. But fuck self-doubt, that guy's shit was all 'tarded. I simply felt the need to school him on that fact.

No, I shouldn't say that, that's mean. There is no 'tarded shit, only 'tarded individuals. . . .

. . . I watch Idiocracy waaay too often.

But if that poor 'tard-burger can't even defend his ill-conceived, badly-worded ideas to me, he needs to get off of RD.net, or bend over and take his dressings down like man. (Heh, the mods told him if he didn't stop making personal attacks, they'd kick him off. Good looking out, RaspK)

Arguing with people is delightful. Especially when I happen to be right, though I'll play devil's advocate at the drop of a hat. Must be my huge, humanity-destroying ego :D

Another killer day at work, by which I mean I fantasized about killing each. And every. One of my customers, and at least a third of my coworkers. My job requires me to be nice to idiots and assholes--I'm not allowed, not supposed to argue with them, or hang up on them, or be honest about all their myriad short-comings. Which is painful to the point of actual physical pain and stress. Hence the job hating. I need to get a job at the DMV, where I can be as honest to people as I want and treat them like shit all day. . . .

That'd be nice.

Because I'm sick of being respectful to my mental inferiors. Not that I'm so wonderfully smart, but that so many of the people I meet are so exceptionally dumb. It's a good thing for them there is no objective point to life; if there was, these jerks wouldn't exist. They're cockroaches. Worse, really, since if put down in a truly adverse situation, they wouldn't adapt or survive nearly as well. My apologies to cockroaches everywhere. I'll try to think before I speak, in future.

On an up-note, oh, my gawds . . . isn't it ab-fab (and aren't I horribly bad at being femme):

Seattle.

I'm a New Yorker by birth and by 'tude. But there are a few other cities that I'm sure wouldn't be a step down to live in: London, Toronto, Sydney, Chicago, Edinburgh, Cardiff, San Francisco. Seattle tops that list. I've got such a deep yearning to be there, have for years. It just about kills me that I'm not there right now. . . .

I suppose my life has a point, after all: get the hell out of Kingston, and out to Seattle. Once there, I'll sort something out--if I'm not totally distracted by all the unparalleled happiness, that is.


"The Seether is neither big nor small. The Seether is the center of it all."--Veruca Salt