by Mr. Mean-Spirited
Aw, what’s the matter? Are you upset? Did you get offended by what I said? Did you get all bothered by what you were told? Did you get your feelings hurt?
Well, your feelings need to be hurt. You deserve to be insulted. You need to suffer, bub. You need to feel the pain.
When I offend you, I am doing the Lord’s work. When I hurt your feelings, I make you realize just how unimportant you truly are. Offensive words are always accurate words. Offensive speech is invariably correct speech.
Do you think I disrespected you? Well, that’s right – I don’t respect you, and nor does anyone else. If you are a contemptible person, you are simply going to get a lot of contempt from other people. You are just human filth – and it is about time that you realize it. You are absolute scum, and it is about time that somebody told you what you really are. You are a loser, and you need to come to terms with it.
You have an unwarranted opinion of yourself. When you are offended, you see yourself for what you really are: worthless. When your feelings get hurt, you see the world as it truly is: inconsequential. You need to come to terms with just how insignificant you really are in the great cosmic scheme of things, and my offensive words are exactly what you need to hear.
Emotional pain occurs when actual facts do not match your inflated opinions. Maybe you simply aren’t as smart as you imagine yourself to be. Maybe you just aren’t as attractive as you would like. Maybe your own life isn’t as fulfilling as you suppose.
Being offended ultimately puts reality and your perception back into alignment. You should be grateful that someone has gone to the trouble of putting you in your place. There is a reason why getting insulted cuts you down to size. Having your feelings hurt is downright therapeutic.
You need to look yourself in the mirror and see just what a disgusting piece of shit you really are. It is absolutely essential that you get your feelings hurt in this world.
You need to be offended – and you need it special.
No one knows less about wine than the kind of person who would go to a tasting.
After a death in my family, I had some legal documents that needed to be signed by a hospital administrator. While waiting in the outer office, I noticed a stack of tickets to a “charity event.” Because the official was “unexpectedly delayed” for over 50 minutes, I slipped one of the passes into my file folder. I think that the return envelope requested a minimum four-figure donation, but since the medical industry had already swindled hundreds of thousands of dollars from the insurance company for my sister’s incompetent treatment, I thought that I was owed a little something.
I deserved a little fun. So there I was with an invitation to an “exclusive gathering” without any proper clothing. I knew enough to understand that only a middle-class minion would actually wear a new suit to a “society event,” so I headed to the nearest thrift store for some quality apparel. Nothing screams upper class like a slightly frayed camel hair jacket and a bow tie. I gave my hair a needed trim with the shaver attachment – and, by nightfall, I looked completely like a Flemish faggot. (I also took a tablet of Mexican propranolol to minimize normal anxiety around so many fairies and foodies.)
After presenting my ticket to security with a scowl and a curt nod, I was unshed into the hall. I never could afford to set foot into the place in the best of times … but there I was – in the presence of the local “high and mighty.” God damn, my very bowels were awed at the throng. However, no matter how luxurious the surroundings, I quickly became bored out of my mind with all the talk of retirement options and Caribbean vacations, so I thought I would have a good laugh when the wine was poured.
I loudly claimed to discover a “hint of Meyer lemon” in the first vintage – actually, I couldn’t detect anything of the sort; it just tasted like fermented grape juice to me. But – wouldn’t you know – some other assholes immediately claimed that they could distinguish the same citrus flavor. Next round, I noticed that others were watching me with expectation, so I claimed to find a “suggestion of freshly harvested pineapple” – and, miracle of miracles, so did everyone else. The truth, of course, is that the second glass of white wine tasted absolutely identical to the first – but when I claimed that the flavor was “astonishing,” so did the cocksuckers around me.
I immediately decided that the third offering would be “disappointing” before even taking a sip. I made some appropriate facial movement and delivered my verdict. Since I established myself as bit of an authority, I didn’t need to give any explanation – just slowly twirled the stem of the glass below my nose. Naturally, the oenophiles went out of their way to agree with my assessment. No matter how preposterous my assertion about a glass of wine that evening, the experts in my circle always were in “profound agreement.” In reality, just about the only thing impactful any of those types ever felt was what might have been shoved up their anus.
No human being is as much a conformist as a gourmet who claims to have a refined palate. Nobody is easier to con than a connoisseur. No one is easier to fool than an art expert. No professional is easier to deceive than an acknowledged authority.
Take my advice: if you are tasting “subtle hints” of raspberry and chocolate in a glass of wine, then you are only imagining things – or, perhaps, ought to be evaluated for an aggressive brain tumor. The only ingredient that has gone into that bottle of wine is grapes – and maybe the occasional rodent that got caught in the hopper. Grape juice is all that is you are actually getting in your mouth – and don’t pretend otherwise. It’s unseemly.
Don’t blame me; my taste is fucking exquisite.
by Mr. Mean-Spirited
Don’t come near me. Get the hell away from me.
People are something to be avoided. You should always keep your distance if you happen to encounter others. You will need to stay away from the mass of humanity if you want to be yourself. You are going to need to shun human beings if you want to remain an individual.
People will only contaminate you. The trouble with the human horde is that you will be dragged down to their level. No matter how much you might try to resist, other people will always befoul your soul. No matter how much you might try to retain your innate uniqueness, society will rub-off upon you.
People will only corrupt you. No matter how much you might struggle, your friends will eventually get you to compromise. No matter how much you resist, you will finally give in. The only fate worse than death is having to join in – and that future awaits us all.
Ultimately people will only consume you. They will make you into one of their own. You will become part of the group. And once you become part of the crowd, you might not be able to find your way out. Once the horde finds you, it is too late.
The multitude is always out there. The mob has been working a conspiracy against you from the start.
