Home Depot - ie, You don't have to...
You don't have to love me.
You don't have to like me.
You don't have to listen to me.
You don't even have to respect me.
But you do have to respect my rights as a person.
That's one of those "it's the law" things. Except in certain circumstances - shutting down what I have to say by calling it "illegal" is censorship - not "safe space"-ing your personal space.
Ever hear "your rights end at the tip of my nose"?
That applies to your safe space, fingers in your ears, "la-la-la-la-la-ing" nonsense.
If you don't like hearing what I have to say? (Especially when you're not even in the conversation I'm having?)
Then don't listen.
You're a grown up (at least I think so - the skinny leg jeans made it hard to tell if your balls had dropped yet) - so act like it.
Ignore the conversation, or raise your own volume so you don't have to hear things you don't like. Or wear pretty pink fuzzy bunny earmuffs to protect your fragile little ear-shells, deary.
---
Or. You could...you know. Get in my face in the parking lot of a hardware store.
Get. In. My. 6. Foot. 5. Inch. 270 lb. Face.
In the parking lot of a hardware store.
One of the most "non-liberal", "non-cuddly-safe-space" places left in the US.
Because that was a good idea.
(Maybe you should have gone next door to Michael's, that might be a little more your speed than Home Depot, Junior.)
---
You turned a very adorable shade of red when your little chest bumping silliness wound up with you stumbling back.
Short lesson in physics for those who didn't graduate?
A skinny sand castle bumping against a mountain doesn't work well.
Yes, your girlfriend (I think she was female, not sure though...tons of cleavage, but no body or facial hair, so...) laughed at you. S/he(?) snickered at you through her cigarette.
Poor you.
If you don't like being laughed at, maybe you shouldn't have stormed off back to her like a little bitch. And no, I'm not mocking her or her gender choices/preferences. She seemed very reasonable, and happy with who she was - she didn't try to chest bump me once. (Although with those chest bumps, I wouldn't have minded her doing it.)
And you know what? I might have actually respected you a little if you'd taken a swing. You clearly wanted to. It's in your male nature, all arguments about socialization aside, to take a swing. Thousands of years of evolution behind it, Junior. Mincy male apologizing aside - you clearly wanted to take your shot.
You might just have respected yourself more if you'd done it. I might even have respected you.
I would have sent flowers, too.
---
If you're going to be a safe-space fuzzy bunny - don't do it sitting on your conformist beater honda civic hood in the parking lot of Home Depot.
Just a suggestion for my readers to share with their more fuzzy friends.
You don't have to like me.
You don't have to listen to me.
You don't even have to respect me.
But you do have to respect my rights as a person.
That's one of those "it's the law" things. Except in certain circumstances - shutting down what I have to say by calling it "illegal" is censorship - not "safe space"-ing your personal space.
Ever hear "your rights end at the tip of my nose"?
That applies to your safe space, fingers in your ears, "la-la-la-la-la-ing" nonsense.
If you don't like hearing what I have to say? (Especially when you're not even in the conversation I'm having?)
Then don't listen.
You're a grown up (at least I think so - the skinny leg jeans made it hard to tell if your balls had dropped yet) - so act like it.
Ignore the conversation, or raise your own volume so you don't have to hear things you don't like. Or wear pretty pink fuzzy bunny earmuffs to protect your fragile little ear-shells, deary.
---
Or. You could...you know. Get in my face in the parking lot of a hardware store.
Get. In. My. 6. Foot. 5. Inch. 270 lb. Face.
In the parking lot of a hardware store.
One of the most "non-liberal", "non-cuddly-safe-space" places left in the US.
Because that was a good idea.
(Maybe you should have gone next door to Michael's, that might be a little more your speed than Home Depot, Junior.)
---
You turned a very adorable shade of red when your little chest bumping silliness wound up with you stumbling back.
Short lesson in physics for those who didn't graduate?
A skinny sand castle bumping against a mountain doesn't work well.
Yes, your girlfriend (I think she was female, not sure though...tons of cleavage, but no body or facial hair, so...) laughed at you. S/he(?) snickered at you through her cigarette.
Poor you.
If you don't like being laughed at, maybe you shouldn't have stormed off back to her like a little bitch. And no, I'm not mocking her or her gender choices/preferences. She seemed very reasonable, and happy with who she was - she didn't try to chest bump me once. (Although with those chest bumps, I wouldn't have minded her doing it.)
And you know what? I might have actually respected you a little if you'd taken a swing. You clearly wanted to. It's in your male nature, all arguments about socialization aside, to take a swing. Thousands of years of evolution behind it, Junior. Mincy male apologizing aside - you clearly wanted to take your shot.
You might just have respected yourself more if you'd done it. I might even have respected you.
I would have sent flowers, too.
---
If you're going to be a safe-space fuzzy bunny - don't do it sitting on your conformist beater honda civic hood in the parking lot of Home Depot.
Just a suggestion for my readers to share with their more fuzzy friends.
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