Words With Friends
One of the most bizarre insights/revelations we can ever have is the realisation that, given the way the Universe functions, however much we might protest otherwise, violence actually is the answer — it’s just that we don’t (want to) believe in it.
“What’s on your mind?” you ask.
If I were you, I wouldn’t.
If I identify with any fictional character ever created, it’s Sam Vimes.
So, you will appreciate what I mean, when I say that … were he in the same frame of mind as I am right now … he’d be finding someone like Detritus to lock him up and make sure he didn’t get out again until he’d calmed down a bit.
And, to be perfectly honest, I wouldn’t bet on Detritus, if I were you.
I am particularly unimpressed with the human race this evening.
If there is an NWO bent on eradicating all the ‘useless eaters’, I can’t say as I don’t understand their point and would almost be inclined to think that my only real quibble with it would be over who, precisely, should be eliminated and who ‘saved’.
It is said, by some, that a liberal is merely someone who hasn’t been mugged yet. To which I’d just like to add that a friend is merely someone who hasn’t betrayed you yet.
Right now, you’re probably safer around me if you’re not a friend ; compared to my standard resting state of ‘genocidal’, hatred is a mild emotion suitable for women, children, the elderly and other invalids — and, right now, I am incandescent with rage, not hatred … not even genocidal but omnicidal.
In the not too distant future, I’m going to have to have a chat with someone.
And by ‘have a chat with’, I obviously mean ‘leave for dead in a ditch at the side of the fucking motorway!’
Well, okay, not really  … but you get the point.
I know exactly what personality disorder you are …
And you’re not very good at it — were I to put my mind to it, I could easily be a much nastier piece of work than you … and, furthermore, do a better job of hiding it.
So, piss off, before I decide to turn all ‘Sword Of God’ and do the World the favour of putting you out of its misery in a shock-white blaze of righteous fury; my well of patience is not as bottomless as you believe it to be and, moreover, I’ve spent twice as long as you’ve been on the face of this planet barely containing my rage … and that only on the grounds that I can’t carry enough ammo to get away with slaughtering you all — and I never had any for *your* kind in the first place … so, you are shit out of luck!
Any second now …
Aaaaany second now …
I am going to go completely and utterly FUCKING BALLISTIC and end up getting myself locked up for life, in a high security centre for the criminally insane. People will be killed to keep the story quiet, because the word ‘atrocities’ will be as sufficient a description of what I am about to commit as the word ‘unpleasant’ would be to describe life in a Nazi death camp — the word ‘genocide’ doesn’t even *begin* to come close — and no copy-cat can ever be allowed to arise.
What two words describe me?
I don’t need to take a quiz to find that out: ‘FUCK’ and ‘OFF’.
Because you’re a CUNT … THAT’S why!!!
If somebody asks you about someone else’s life … no matter how well intentioned their enquiry might appear … you tell them NOTHING!!!
It’s not your place to do anything else, so DON’T FUCKING DO IT!!!
What kind of fucking retard doesn’t know THAT!?!
I trust, however ….
And by “I trust” I mean “Don’t make me hurt you …”
And, so, it would appear that the moral of the story is this: there’s no need to burn your bridges — if you wait long enough, people will loosen the bolts and they’ll collapse of their own accord.
TL;DR: No, I don’t have an attitude problem: you’re just a cunt!
 Right now, a friend is just the perfect opportunity to make an example of … an object lesson in “Dont’ let this happen to you” — because if I’ll do that to my friends ….
 Well, probably not really.