Why I'm an ASSHOLE.

First of all, I'd like to thank everyone who has taken the time to stop by here and read the things I share with you here. Whether you agree with the substance or not, whether you read to ridicule, whether you read for sanity, or whether you read because you just simply like to read. You are reading this and for that I thank you.

Gracias.

Okey-dokey,...here we go with today's story:

You can't be too concerned with thinking about whether or not you smack your food when you eat. I mean, you eat the way you eat, loud or not. Oh,... you think that is rude? We should be worried about how they are likely to perceive us just because we smack our food like cows in the barn?

I care not.
I'm not proper.
I'm real.

Now, you don't need to worry about whether or not you're pissing on the sidewall of the bowl or in the water and you certainly don't need to worry about someone hearing your bowels explode. I'm in the bathroom. Let me be. If I worry about holding back every fart because of hearing people, I'd sure as hell better start looking for a proctologist.

I don't worry.
I'm no sound slave.
I live.

"The baby is crying."

I know.

"Do something about it."

10 minutes, he'll stop.

"That's mean."

No, that is MY kid.

"I can't stand hearing the baby cry. I'm gonna go stop it."

No, you will not.
Ten Minutes.

Yep,...5 minutes later,...the baby is quiet.
10 minutes later,...the baby is asleep.

OR

"Tell your wife I said:....."

Nah man,..tell her yourself.

"But I can't sign."

Learn or Leave.

"Wow, you're an asshole!"

Yup.

THE STATUS QUO IS CONSTANTLY REINFORCED BY THE PUPPETS OF HOODOM.