12:00 AM - Whoo-hoo! Only half an hour left until I can leave my "day" job. Wonder if it's still called a "Day Job" if you work overnights?...
12:30 AM - Whooooo! Up yours, work!
1:00 AM - Why is this drive so long?!
1:15 AM - Yay, home! I'm going to make dinner, then I'm going to get to writing!
2:00 AM - Just one more rerun of 30 Rock that I've seen several times, then I'm going to write
3:00 AM - ....Damn. Oooh, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia! I'll half-assedly do research during commercials.
3:30 AM - Ring! Ooh, boyfriend's on the phone. I'll just talk to him until he gets home, then work!
5:00 AM - Shit. We've been on the phone for an hour and a half. Eh, I have tomorrow off. I'll just write a lot when I get up. Time to knit while watching Doctor Who!
6:00 AM - Fall asleep on the couch.
2:00 PM - Hmmm....I should get up. Well, I don't get a lot of sleep on days I do work. Maybe I'll sleep for a little while longer....
3:00 PM - Discuss financial difficulties with boyfriend. Decide financial difficulties would be less difficult if I would just buckle the fuck down and write more. And if we got less carry out. Oooh, carry out...
4:00 PM - Write for about twenty minutes.
4:20 PM - Distracted by cat. Play with cat.
5:00 PM - Talk to Mom on the phone.
6:00 PM - Talk to boyfriend on phone while he drives to work
7:00 PM - Well, really, Chinese take-out makes more fiscal sense than cooking for one. By the time I buy chicken and rice and veggies, it costs more to make the one meal than the $10 take-out that I can get three meals out of...
8:00 PM - Yay, eating Chinese food!
8:30 PM - Fucking seriously, go write.
8:35 PM - I'll just look at the new health insurance information from work.
9:00 PM - Have a total fucking meltdown over how frustrating and confusing the new health plan is. Bitch at internet group.
10:00 PM - Yoga
10:45 PM - Damn, I miss having a gym membership.... No, you're not going for a walk right now. WRITE SOMETHING!
10:55 PM - Blogging? Really, dumbass?! You're fucking blogging?! YOU DON'T GET PAID FOR THIS SHIT!
11:15 PM - Good job! You've wasted most of an entire day!
Monday, October 21, 2013
Dear Peach...
Dear Peach,
My human came home tonight and lamented that she forgot to purchase paper towels but she could probably do without any until tomorrow. I promptly vomited all over the floor. Hahahahahahaha.
Banana
My human came home tonight and lamented that she forgot to purchase paper towels but she could probably do without any until tomorrow. I promptly vomited all over the floor. Hahahahahahaha.
Banana
Saturday, October 19, 2013
JERK TIPS FOR CATS!!
Day One
I don't know your name, but I liked your message. I think it is very funny the way you run out of your person's home and make her chase you down the stairs. I think you and I have a lot to learn from each other. I like to poop on the floor when I don't get the attention I deserve. That makes my person really mad. It makes me laugh. I mean, as much as I can. I don't think the people recognize it as a laugh. That makes it even more fun for me, because those idiots have no idea what's going on. Hahahahahaha.
Love, Peach the Cat
Day Two
Peach,
You can call me Banana. Your idea of pooping on the floor is quite funny. I'll have to try that some time. It was quite clever of you to jump in my person's laptop bag and leave me that message via pheromones. I didn't know that we could communicate such complex, intangible ideas in such a way! One of the things I like to do is scream. I just follow my person around her apartment, screaming. She thinks I'm trying to communicate that I want food, which I do. Food is good. But really, I just like to scream because it's fun. That might be another way we can communicate. When my person calls your person and they do that annoying thing where they both make their talking devices loud and talk at it without picking it up (I think I've heard your person ask if mine is using a "Speaker phone" or something like that), we can talk that way too. Even if we don't communicate that way, I highly recommend screaming at your person. All the time.
AUGH!
Banana Cat
Day Three
Ring
Man: Hello, sweetie!
Woman: Hi, honey.
Peach: MEOW!
Banana: MEOW! MEOW! MEOW!
Peach: MEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWW!!!!!
Banana: MEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!! MEOW!
Woman: I swear they're talking to each other....
I don't know your name, but I liked your message. I think it is very funny the way you run out of your person's home and make her chase you down the stairs. I think you and I have a lot to learn from each other. I like to poop on the floor when I don't get the attention I deserve. That makes my person really mad. It makes me laugh. I mean, as much as I can. I don't think the people recognize it as a laugh. That makes it even more fun for me, because those idiots have no idea what's going on. Hahahahahaha.
Love, Peach the Cat
Day Two
Peach,
You can call me Banana. Your idea of pooping on the floor is quite funny. I'll have to try that some time. It was quite clever of you to jump in my person's laptop bag and leave me that message via pheromones. I didn't know that we could communicate such complex, intangible ideas in such a way! One of the things I like to do is scream. I just follow my person around her apartment, screaming. She thinks I'm trying to communicate that I want food, which I do. Food is good. But really, I just like to scream because it's fun. That might be another way we can communicate. When my person calls your person and they do that annoying thing where they both make their talking devices loud and talk at it without picking it up (I think I've heard your person ask if mine is using a "Speaker phone" or something like that), we can talk that way too. Even if we don't communicate that way, I highly recommend screaming at your person. All the time.
AUGH!
Banana Cat
Day Three
Ring
Man: Hello, sweetie!
Woman: Hi, honey.
Peach: MEOW!
Banana: MEOW! MEOW! MEOW!
Peach: MEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWW!!!!!
Banana: MEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!! MEOW!
Woman: I swear they're talking to each other....
Friday, September 27, 2013
Public Restroom Decorum
I can think of nothing that tempts to punch strangers in the face harder than encounters in a public restroom. I mean, goddamn, people are disgusting and obnoxious.
First off, I think it should be illegal to not wash your hands after using the restroom. I think this should be regarded an act of bioterrorism. Because seriously, what do you call it when someone rubs biohazardous substances with a thin sheet of paper with their bare hands then walks around touching common surfaces, spreading the biohazard all over? Seriously, Mandy Patinkin, get on this shit.
A lot of people realize that things in the loo are disgusting. The paper towel dispenser is not an exception to this. Different people have different tactics for getting their paper towel without resoiling their freshly washed hands. I, for example, use the lever on the dispenser to roll about two inches of towel out, wash my hands, rip off that short bit of towel, use it to dispense some more towel, throw out the first bit, dry my hands on the second portion of towel, turn off the sink with the towel, use said towel to open the door, then throw the towel in the trash. Sound pedantic? I'm actually skipping steps. I should dispense, wash, dispense, dry, dispense, turn off sink, dispense, open door.
So, here's the silly set up in the ladies room at work. There are two sinks. One sink has these lovely, long handles that you turn on and then, gasp, turn off when you're done. We'll call this Good Sink. The other is one of those monstrosities that you push the handle down on and it pops up whenever it damn well feels like it, so you have to keep turning the water on. And if you're OCD like me, that's fucking horrible, because you can't adequately wash your hands when you have to keep touching a dirty sink handle. Good Sink is on the right. Horrible Bacteria Time Loop Disaster in on the right. Next to the paper towel dispenser. So, here's a common scenario. I pop into the washroom to wash my hands, roll down the two inches of towel, start washing my hands. Some nasty, dirty person comes out of the stall, goes to HBTLD, splashes some cold water on her hands, takes my towel, and leaves without rolling more down for me. Or nasty, dirty person comes out, splashes cold water on her hands, then stands directly in front of the paper towel dispenser, poking at her eye makeup with her unclean hands, essentially just rubbing her ass all over the clean bit of towel I have hanging down. Incorrect Behavior. Correct Behavior: Step out of the stall, see somebody washing her hands, with a bit of paper towel hanging down from the dispenser. Common sense dictates that she's going to use that bit of paper towel to dispense more towel in a quasi-sanitary method. The woman in front of you was already washing her hands, so logic dictates she's probably almost done. Stand the fuck back, wait your goddamn turn, and don't touch her stuff. It's already awkward enough that you and this stranger were likely peeing at the same time, four feet apart. Don't impede her hand washing. Or, say she is particularly obsessive-compulsive and is taking five minutes to wash her hands instead of one. Hop onto HBTLD, wash your hands, use the towel, and ADVANCE MORE FUCKING TOWEL.
If you happen to be the person washing your hands whilst somebody is behind you waiting, leave the water running for them. It saves you having to figure out how to touch that disgusting faucet and acknowledges the other person's welcomeness to join in the fun that is handwashing.
Sometimes, people accidentally get some urine on the seat. There is a quite simple solution to this problem. Take a piece of toilet paper, and wipe the seat! When you piss all over the place and don't bother to clean up, you're basically just screaming "I'm disgusting!" And seriously, fuck you, disgusting people. I would hate to step foot in your home if you're so lazy and gross you can't even wipe up something that came out of your body. How fucking dare you suggest that somebody else clean up your bodily fluids? Pig bitch.
Ladies, your period sucks. I've been there; I get it. However, the situation sucking does not make it okay for you not to dispose of crap covered in your blood in an improper fashion. Yes, I'm not a moron. I do know it's not really blood. But I don't want to repeatedly type "Discharged uterine lining" so fucking deal. So, let's go over a list of gross stuff nobody should ever see in a public restroom:
-A tampon on the floor
- A pad that somebody has attempted to flush down the toilet
-A pad on the floor
-A pad/tampon sitting ON TOP of the trash can in the stall
-Blood. Anywhere. Ever.
-A pad/tampon sitting on top of the toilet paper dispenser
-A bloody pad/tampon in the trashcan, but unwrapped and at the top of the trashcan, so there's no possible way to put anything else in it or even change the liner without an extreme likelihood of touching some strange cunt's blood.
The proper response to the unfortunate situation of having to change your feminine hygiene materials in a public restroom are to remove it, wrap it in either toilet paper or a wrapper, and place it in the trashcan. Assuming the trash can has a hinged lid, close the trash can. Then wash your hands.
It's like kindergarten. Pick up after yourself, be considerate of others, and wash your fucking hands.
First off, I think it should be illegal to not wash your hands after using the restroom. I think this should be regarded an act of bioterrorism. Because seriously, what do you call it when someone rubs biohazardous substances with a thin sheet of paper with their bare hands then walks around touching common surfaces, spreading the biohazard all over? Seriously, Mandy Patinkin, get on this shit.
A lot of people realize that things in the loo are disgusting. The paper towel dispenser is not an exception to this. Different people have different tactics for getting their paper towel without resoiling their freshly washed hands. I, for example, use the lever on the dispenser to roll about two inches of towel out, wash my hands, rip off that short bit of towel, use it to dispense some more towel, throw out the first bit, dry my hands on the second portion of towel, turn off the sink with the towel, use said towel to open the door, then throw the towel in the trash. Sound pedantic? I'm actually skipping steps. I should dispense, wash, dispense, dry, dispense, turn off sink, dispense, open door.
So, here's the silly set up in the ladies room at work. There are two sinks. One sink has these lovely, long handles that you turn on and then, gasp, turn off when you're done. We'll call this Good Sink. The other is one of those monstrosities that you push the handle down on and it pops up whenever it damn well feels like it, so you have to keep turning the water on. And if you're OCD like me, that's fucking horrible, because you can't adequately wash your hands when you have to keep touching a dirty sink handle. Good Sink is on the right. Horrible Bacteria Time Loop Disaster in on the right. Next to the paper towel dispenser. So, here's a common scenario. I pop into the washroom to wash my hands, roll down the two inches of towel, start washing my hands. Some nasty, dirty person comes out of the stall, goes to HBTLD, splashes some cold water on her hands, takes my towel, and leaves without rolling more down for me. Or nasty, dirty person comes out, splashes cold water on her hands, then stands directly in front of the paper towel dispenser, poking at her eye makeup with her unclean hands, essentially just rubbing her ass all over the clean bit of towel I have hanging down. Incorrect Behavior. Correct Behavior: Step out of the stall, see somebody washing her hands, with a bit of paper towel hanging down from the dispenser. Common sense dictates that she's going to use that bit of paper towel to dispense more towel in a quasi-sanitary method. The woman in front of you was already washing her hands, so logic dictates she's probably almost done. Stand the fuck back, wait your goddamn turn, and don't touch her stuff. It's already awkward enough that you and this stranger were likely peeing at the same time, four feet apart. Don't impede her hand washing. Or, say she is particularly obsessive-compulsive and is taking five minutes to wash her hands instead of one. Hop onto HBTLD, wash your hands, use the towel, and ADVANCE MORE FUCKING TOWEL.
If you happen to be the person washing your hands whilst somebody is behind you waiting, leave the water running for them. It saves you having to figure out how to touch that disgusting faucet and acknowledges the other person's welcomeness to join in the fun that is handwashing.
Sometimes, people accidentally get some urine on the seat. There is a quite simple solution to this problem. Take a piece of toilet paper, and wipe the seat! When you piss all over the place and don't bother to clean up, you're basically just screaming "I'm disgusting!" And seriously, fuck you, disgusting people. I would hate to step foot in your home if you're so lazy and gross you can't even wipe up something that came out of your body. How fucking dare you suggest that somebody else clean up your bodily fluids? Pig bitch.
Ladies, your period sucks. I've been there; I get it. However, the situation sucking does not make it okay for you not to dispose of crap covered in your blood in an improper fashion. Yes, I'm not a moron. I do know it's not really blood. But I don't want to repeatedly type "Discharged uterine lining" so fucking deal. So, let's go over a list of gross stuff nobody should ever see in a public restroom:
-A tampon on the floor
- A pad that somebody has attempted to flush down the toilet
-A pad on the floor
-A pad/tampon sitting ON TOP of the trash can in the stall
-Blood. Anywhere. Ever.
-A pad/tampon sitting on top of the toilet paper dispenser
-A bloody pad/tampon in the trashcan, but unwrapped and at the top of the trashcan, so there's no possible way to put anything else in it or even change the liner without an extreme likelihood of touching some strange cunt's blood.
The proper response to the unfortunate situation of having to change your feminine hygiene materials in a public restroom are to remove it, wrap it in either toilet paper or a wrapper, and place it in the trashcan. Assuming the trash can has a hinged lid, close the trash can. Then wash your hands.
It's like kindergarten. Pick up after yourself, be considerate of others, and wash your fucking hands.
Friday, September 20, 2013
Stupid Laws are Stupid
I live in a state in which it is against the law to not use a seat belt while in the front seat of the car. Adults are not legally compelled to use a seat belt in the back seat. Does everybody understand this? It's not just that it is highly recommended to wear a seat belt; it is a ticketable offense. Because seat belts save lives. Seat belts hold a person to the seat of their car, which is almost always fully enclosed (silly convertibles) so that they do not become a human projectile and fly through the windshield. As a state, we grew tired of people dying from such a silly act of negligence, and made it a law.
However, the stupid fucking state I live in recently made it legal for motorcyclists to not wear helmets. A person on a big bike driving 70-plus miles per hour, with no encasing to catch them should something happen, with a high likelihood of becoming a human projectile, is not required to wear or utilize any protective equipment.
Driving to work today, I saw one of the men who chooses to ride his motorcycle without a helmet. Zipping down the expressway at 80 miles per hour. No helmet. Shorts and T-shirt. Dude. I mean. C'mon. Let's say your bike just falls over. You're going to burn the shit out of your leg. Let's say your bike falls over and slides a ways. Goodbye, ALL of your skin. And Science forbid, you do go flying off your bike...
I...just...no. Just no.
However, the stupid fucking state I live in recently made it legal for motorcyclists to not wear helmets. A person on a big bike driving 70-plus miles per hour, with no encasing to catch them should something happen, with a high likelihood of becoming a human projectile, is not required to wear or utilize any protective equipment.
Driving to work today, I saw one of the men who chooses to ride his motorcycle without a helmet. Zipping down the expressway at 80 miles per hour. No helmet. Shorts and T-shirt. Dude. I mean. C'mon. Let's say your bike just falls over. You're going to burn the shit out of your leg. Let's say your bike falls over and slides a ways. Goodbye, ALL of your skin. And Science forbid, you do go flying off your bike...
I...just...no. Just no.
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Some Commercials That Need to Be Punched in the Colon
Fucking commercials. Seriously, fucking commercials.
There's a series of commercials about dental products designed to reduce acid erosion. There's a pretty women with a drinking vessel, usually with a group of people. She's pretty, she's smiling, she's laughing. Then the narrator pops in with something moronic like "Jillian loves soda. But she doesn't know that it contains acid. Blah blah blah. Acid erosion of dentin. Blah blah blah. Protective mouthwash!"
If you don't know that soda contains acid, you don't deserve your fucking teeth. Not saying "Don't drink soda." Soda's awesome. Drink all the soda you want, because I sure as Hell am going to. But seriously. SERIOUSLY. You gotta know that shit contains acid. There's another advert in this series, "Becky loves coffee. But she doesn't know it contains damaging acid." Really?! Really, Captain Obvious Commercial Whore?! Does it contain acid?! Is it slippery? Does it smell like fucking bleach? Hmm, must not be a base! Does it have a neutral PH, no taste, and no smell? Must not be water! Does it produce carbon dioxide when it has MOTHER FUCKING CARBONATION added to it?! BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Acid, bitches!
The other commercial I want to punch in the cunt is a diaper commercial. It's kind of a before and after scenario of a mother with a young child. Part One: First time mother is breast-feeding her new baby in a restaurant. She's hiding in the corner, has a breast-feeding tent, looks all ashamed and nervous. Narrator says something like "You want to do everything right for your baby as a first time parent." Part Two: Same mother has a second baby; the first one is about three. In this scenario, the woman is sitting in the same restaurant, this time at a table in the middle of the dining room. She has her breast pulled out the neck of her shirt and is openly feeding her baby. The waiter comes over, looks surprised by what's going on, but doesn't say anything. Bitch mother snaps her fingers at him, points at her face, and says "Up here." Narrator says, "By the second one, you have things figured out. Live and learn and get our brand of diapers."
Okay, first off, I have nothing against breast feeding. At all. It's awesome that mothers breast feed. I mean, all the biological coolness of it aside, there are so many studies and so much evidence proving how beneficial breast feeding is to your child, developmentally and emotionally. This is a beautiful, natural thing, and there shouldn't be any shame about it, because it's not a shameful thing. I think it is indeed a damn disgrace that women feel they should have to hide in a corner or under a drape or, worst of all, in the restroom, to feed their child. You don't tell the three year old to sit in the corner in the bathroom and eat his grapes or whatever children eat. Babies deserve to eat in a clean environment, too.
My problem with this horrible fucking commercial is what a rude, nasty bitch this woman is. She shouldn't be ashamed of breast-feeding, but it's not out of line for somebody to have a moment of surprise when seeing a breast out. The waiter in the commercial wasn't going "Ewww! Gross!", "That's inappropriate!", or even "Whooooo! Titties!" Just a brief moment of surprise, and apparent contemplation of "Should I stay and ask for her order or should I leave her alone?" And the woman's response to this moment of surprise is to snap her fucking fingers in his face and snap "Up here." "By the second child, you have things figured out." What do you have figured out? How to be disrespectful to waiters? How to be rude in general? How to teach your children that you don't need to be polite to strangers? "It's okay, Johnny, he's just the waiter. You can always snap your fingers in the waiter's face." Hope that baby bites your nipple off, fictional bitch.
There's a series of commercials about dental products designed to reduce acid erosion. There's a pretty women with a drinking vessel, usually with a group of people. She's pretty, she's smiling, she's laughing. Then the narrator pops in with something moronic like "Jillian loves soda. But she doesn't know that it contains acid. Blah blah blah. Acid erosion of dentin. Blah blah blah. Protective mouthwash!"
If you don't know that soda contains acid, you don't deserve your fucking teeth. Not saying "Don't drink soda." Soda's awesome. Drink all the soda you want, because I sure as Hell am going to. But seriously. SERIOUSLY. You gotta know that shit contains acid. There's another advert in this series, "Becky loves coffee. But she doesn't know it contains damaging acid." Really?! Really, Captain Obvious Commercial Whore?! Does it contain acid?! Is it slippery? Does it smell like fucking bleach? Hmm, must not be a base! Does it have a neutral PH, no taste, and no smell? Must not be water! Does it produce carbon dioxide when it has MOTHER FUCKING CARBONATION added to it?! BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Acid, bitches!
The other commercial I want to punch in the cunt is a diaper commercial. It's kind of a before and after scenario of a mother with a young child. Part One: First time mother is breast-feeding her new baby in a restaurant. She's hiding in the corner, has a breast-feeding tent, looks all ashamed and nervous. Narrator says something like "You want to do everything right for your baby as a first time parent." Part Two: Same mother has a second baby; the first one is about three. In this scenario, the woman is sitting in the same restaurant, this time at a table in the middle of the dining room. She has her breast pulled out the neck of her shirt and is openly feeding her baby. The waiter comes over, looks surprised by what's going on, but doesn't say anything. Bitch mother snaps her fingers at him, points at her face, and says "Up here." Narrator says, "By the second one, you have things figured out. Live and learn and get our brand of diapers."
Okay, first off, I have nothing against breast feeding. At all. It's awesome that mothers breast feed. I mean, all the biological coolness of it aside, there are so many studies and so much evidence proving how beneficial breast feeding is to your child, developmentally and emotionally. This is a beautiful, natural thing, and there shouldn't be any shame about it, because it's not a shameful thing. I think it is indeed a damn disgrace that women feel they should have to hide in a corner or under a drape or, worst of all, in the restroom, to feed their child. You don't tell the three year old to sit in the corner in the bathroom and eat his grapes or whatever children eat. Babies deserve to eat in a clean environment, too.
My problem with this horrible fucking commercial is what a rude, nasty bitch this woman is. She shouldn't be ashamed of breast-feeding, but it's not out of line for somebody to have a moment of surprise when seeing a breast out. The waiter in the commercial wasn't going "Ewww! Gross!", "That's inappropriate!", or even "Whooooo! Titties!" Just a brief moment of surprise, and apparent contemplation of "Should I stay and ask for her order or should I leave her alone?" And the woman's response to this moment of surprise is to snap her fucking fingers in his face and snap "Up here." "By the second child, you have things figured out." What do you have figured out? How to be disrespectful to waiters? How to be rude in general? How to teach your children that you don't need to be polite to strangers? "It's okay, Johnny, he's just the waiter. You can always snap your fingers in the waiter's face." Hope that baby bites your nipple off, fictional bitch.
Saturday, August 24, 2013
Rene Descartes Walks Into a Bar...
Last night I posted on my private Facebook account that I felt unsafe in my home at that particular moment. Not that anything was seriously going on, just one of those uncomfortable feelings and some weird sounds down the hall. Then somebody I knew if fucking middle school commented on that status, essentially saying "That's stupid and invalid, because I willingly went someplace unsafe and there are actual things to be scared of here."
Okay. You know nothing about what's going on in my life. You know nothing about what has gone on in my life. You don't know if I'm up at 5:00 in the morning freaking out because:
- I have acute intermittent porphyria and am having an attack
- I have a really severe anxiety disorder that goes out of control when it's silent and my mind can wander
- I'm slowly turning into a cricket
- I was sexually assaulted in my bedroom at night as a child
- My dog is barking at a strange orb outside the window
- I consume too much caffeine to live
- I was raped in my own bed in this very apartment
- There are gunshots outside
- Two years ago, I abruptly lost my partner, my family, and my home in the middle of the night and I sometimes panic about the aspect of abruptly losing everything else that is important to me
- Shit's going on at work and I'm terrified I'm going to get fired
- I watched somebody climb up the outside balconies and into my neighbor's apartment the other day
- My neighbor has a history of setting her kitchen on fire
- I can see a demon sitting on top of my bookcase staring at me
- I have a tendency to wear my mind on my sleeve
- I have a history of losing my shirt
- Oops, those last two were Barenaked Ladies lyrics.
You don't know if some of these are true, all of these are true, or none of these are true. You don't know a single damn thing about my situation. Because I haven't had an actual conversation with you in five years because every conversation we had in the five years before that you've been increasingly condescending? And not in a "Haha, that was a dumb thing to do" way, but in an "I don't think your feelings are valid, so watch me belittle you as a person" way. And the stupid thing about this is, I care. I care what you think about me. I mean, if you don't agree with everything I do, whatever, nobody will ever agree with everything anybody does. If you see I've made a mistake and call me on it, okay. Disagree with me on politics or religion? Neat, tell me your thoughts, I want to know why you feel the way you do. You won't sway me, but I care about your point of view. But when you suggest my feelings aren't valid, that's not cool. That's tantamount to you thinking I'm just a worthless excuse for a human being.
I'm now just going to go off in a tangent. If you understand how I've come to this point, I will totally give a cookie.
Rene Descartes walks into a gin bar. Bartender says, "Hey, want a martini?"
Descartes says, "I don't think--" and disappears.
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