A Reason to not Speak with Me

Don't bother with me if:

You find peeing in the shower 'gross' or 'yuck'. It irritates me to no end when something this trivial 'sickens' a woman and the reason I keep using 'inverted commas' (as the elitists call them) is because I don't believe anyone - man or woman - HONESTLY believes that taking a whizz in the shower is nasty.
I just refuse to believe it. You can say it, and even try to convince yourself that it is a vile thing, but in the end, you don't care, at least I don't, and if you're reading my opinions, it's because you're looking for confirmation of your own opinions, which means that you'll change your opinions to mine so that we can agree.
Honestly, you pee on the floor of the shower, and it's washed down the drain. Is that any worse than putting all of the dirt that has accumulated on your body for days (one day, if you're not like me) down the drain?
I just don't get it.


2. If you say 'like' more than 0 times per sentence, and more than three times per conversation (excluding those times when it is used in a manner that compares the similarity of two entities, such as, "Being on the roller-coaster was like flying in a jet") then don't speak to me. Ever. As a matter of fact, don't even exist when I'm around, because it's going to irritate me in an increasingly collective build until I reflexively saw your eyes out and use them as extras in a game of Hungry Hungry Hippo.
The surefire sign of a person who is -- ho hum -- less than an intellectual, is the use of crevices, such as 'like,' and 'uhm,' and, 'well, I mean-- y'know'.
And I don't mean a person who simply, like, you know, doesn't have a, like, big vocabulary, but like, the person just, y'know, isn't really, like, smart, like, y'know, smart, like, at all, y'know?
And, like, y'know, well, I mean, y'know, like, because like, if y'know, he was, like, y'know, like, I mean, y'know, like-- and now I've forgotten what I was talking about! Blast it all!
I did not want to believe it for a long time, but in the end, all of the evidence points to this conclusion: fifteen year old girls raised in public schools are inevitably dense.


3. You're a teenager.
That's right, if you're under eighteen, don't bother talking to me. I'm bored of conversations that don't go passed, "Hey, what's up?"
Here's the average conversation:

Him: Hey, what's going on?

Me: The same thing that has gone on, is going on, and will continually go on for the rest of my pathetic, miserable and perpetually increasingly depressing life: nothing. Nothing is all that ever goes on. You need not ask ever again, ever. Ever. Never. Never ever. Every time you ask that question, a small piece of my soul dies and is reincarnated as hellfire where it torments me, burns my spirit and destroys me into oblivion.

Him: . . . oh.

Then I go into berserker mode and start killing everything around me with a copy of "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy".
By time I'm finished I relax enough to speak rationally, but there's no one left to talk to because they've all been bludgeoned into vegetables with a paperback.

The point is, everyone sucks and I don't want to talk, even if that is my greatest talent.


4. If you insist on talking about your problems.
Really, the last time I heard someone speak to someone else, all she did was swap stories about 'terrible' things that happened to her. The average teenager conversation, (especially on a bloody cellphone!) will sound like this:


"Like, oh my gosh, I was over at my ride when this guy comes and gits all up in my bin-iss, so I be tellin' him to be steppin, know what I'm sayin'? So then he goes and gets my superior and I be all, "Fine, go 'head and get my supervisor! He just gonna agree wit me! I tole him!"
Followed by half a trillion head-pans, and a countless assault of hand-motions that would put a person who speaks sign-language to shame.
New rule: If you're on the cell-phone, no one can see your defiant hand-motions, but the people who can see them are not speaking with you; stop it, you look like a moron.

I'm serious, don't speak to me if all you're going to do is tell me about your problems or how you 'tole' (an alternate (read that: wrong) way of saying 'told') someone off because you're so vastly superior, and certainly not because you're just more audacious and still too young to have the capacity for shame or humility.
Is that all that goes on in teenagers lives? Problems?
"Oh, boo hoo, my daddy left when I was two, some guy just got 'up in my face,' and my feet hurt! My back aches!"
Wah wah wah! It is impossible to get any kind of decent conversation out of these people! No wonder I don't know how to speak to kids these days; they don' talk, they compare sob stories.
I saw an emo kid once walk away from a crowd of teenagers while shaking his head, saying, "Man, these people are just too depressing."
Then he went home and cut himself, but failed to find any comfort in it because it just didn't seem as awful as it used to, prior to hearing every kid on the planet talk about all of their unimportant, insignificant 'problems' that amount to trivial discomforts.
Shut up, already, and help me pull my foot out of your throat.


- Atari

- Atari

That's right, people! This entry was so amazing it required two signings in order to keep it from spontaneously combusting into a shower of physically manifested impressiveness.
Sometimes, I make entries just so that it'll create a shower of awesome that I can bottle and save in case I want to turn a box-turtle (boring) into an alligator snapping turtle being eaten by an alligator. (Awesome)

((Look for my new product, "Bottle 'O Awesome" on Ebay. If it kicks off, I'll follow it up with my much rarer, "Bottle O' Impressiveness," then cash in on the success by selling the ever-pleasing, "Bottle 'O Air". ))