When I think about people, really think about them, I feel nothing but sadness. I try to think about things that they might like, what might be meaningful to them. A favorite meal, perhaps. Favorite shirt. An activity of which they might say, “That’s my thing.“ I picture them with their earnest little faces, thinking their earnest little thoughts, “Mmm, McDonald’s.” Or “my favorite TV show is coming on tonight.” What makes me sad about this?
Why do I perpetually come back to this theme? I don’t know. You give me a person, I’ll give you a reason why I can feel sorry for them. I just have to have a few minutes with them to find out what makes them tick, check all of their likes, their quirks, their pet peeves, the things that make them smile, everything -- then I’ll wrap it up with a blue ribbon and tell you why it is the saddest thing on earth. I said
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Bitch. Interestingly enough I said
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But you’ll never know.
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I've changed my comments settings to allow for anyone to comment. All comments are welcome, even spineless potshots from anonymous posters. Please, by all means, give me the tongue lashing I so richly deserve. I promise not to hunt you down and melt your keyboard with my plasma cannon. I won't, however, promise not to pout and make that face you can't stand.