There is no me and you.
Dishonest people and their misdeeds can stir an ill wind in our souls. They bring out our worst. Our feelings of scorn are unfamiliar even to ourselves. No one knows me better than I. These thoughts are not normal. How can an individual arouse such ignominy in my heart? I think about this and why it is so.
His eyes scan the pawn shop in a calm but hurried quest for the perfect weapon. The hammer would do but the baseball bat would do more. The horror of a chainsaw's effectiveness is obvious but it won't do. Butch's revenge is deeply personal, too personal for a power tool. A coldness enters his gaze as he looks upward, locked on the samurai sword. He unsheathes the finely crafted blade which offers him the up-close-and-personal means of killing the sadistic fucker Zed. Butch grips the sabre, designed soley to bring death, briefly admires the soon-to-be-bloodied steel before retreating to the dungeon.
Hopefully we choose our words carefully when doing battle with despicable people. We might feel like Butch choosing our weapon but our tools are perfect words.....to cut our repugnant nemesis down. How many times do we mentally rehearse what we'd like to say to that son-of-a-bitch who brings misery to our lives? We might start with a reasonably tame but precise expression of the discomfort they cause hoping words delivered bluntly, like a hammer or bat, will suffice. Or we can escalate to words that cut deeply drawing emotional blood as a samurai sword.
"Jane, you ignorant misguided slut!". We fantasize about tearing into them with our razor sharp verbal arsenal describing exactly how we feel. Nothing is too personal. No insult below is our distaste.
On a few occasions I have mentally selected my weapons to take down The Evil Princess but I regret I will never unsheathe my verbal blade. I'm just not THAT mean spirited and given the fact that she's the bossman's adopted daughter my verbal assault would be most unwise. We bite our collective tongues in the face of her laziness, near incompetence and pathological lies spun to blame everyone ..... but never anyone in the room ..... for her misdeeds. That is her Modus Operandi and Daddy owns the company so there's not a damn thing we can do. Nepotism is not a pleasant issue in the workplace but millions of regular people must toil in an environment of double standards and favoritism. I'll bet even Jesus had a favorite Apostle. C'mon Christians, isn't that what Judas was pissed off about? He wasn't part of the inner circle.
Yes, I have rehearsed a few F-bomb laden diatribes in my life but none would match the incivility and ferocity of my fantstical verbal death vent into the Princess of Nepotism. I am however wise enough to never release the hounds of my contempt. Rather than risk a slip of my razor sharp tongue I simply deal with her by not dealing with her. Silence is my weapon and my defense. My steely glare speaks volumes. This level of cold hearted disdain has my coworkers in awe. They wish they could do what I have made common practice, ignoring the bossman's daughter. They're often victims of her inane nervous chatter, that of a 10-year-old girl trapped in a woman's body. She never shuts up and they must endure her cackling, wishing she would go away, nodding and pretending they're interested in whatever she's rambling. I cannot say what that yakking is about because she won't chat idlly with me. She knows better.
The Princess sees me as unapproachable. Unless the matter at hand is directly related to company business that only I can help with she won't speak to me. I can assure you she looks elsewhere before seeking my council. That's just the way I like it. It doesn't feel right holding this level of contempt for any person but I realized over time that everyone felt the same as I. She is truly despicable and I choose to not associate with her unless my job depends on it.
Butch coldly impaled Maynard then calmly turned to the miscreant Zed with his carefully chosen weapon. He had no intention of using it unless provoked. So it will be with my weapon of words. The quick end brought by the blade would be too humane for the vile creature Zed. Butch left the sadist to a more excruciating and prolonged demise at the hands of Marsalis Wallace's pipe-hittin' henchmen. "I'ma get Medievil on your ass."
I believe dishonorable people will eventually get what's coming to them. Justice will be served and it's best to leave them to their fate. There's no need to lower ourselves by unleashing our verbal vengeance. As delicious as it might be to unchain our odium, restraint is the path of wisdom as we're often left with a bitter taste of regret knowing we behaved as disgracefully as them.
Zed is dead baby, Zed is dead.
His eyes scan the pawn shop in a calm but hurried quest for the perfect weapon. The hammer would do but the baseball bat would do more. The horror of a chainsaw's effectiveness is obvious but it won't do. Butch's revenge is deeply personal, too personal for a power tool. A coldness enters his gaze as he looks upward, locked on the samurai sword. He unsheathes the finely crafted blade which offers him the up-close-and-personal means of killing the sadistic fucker Zed. Butch grips the sabre, designed soley to bring death, briefly admires the soon-to-be-bloodied steel before retreating to the dungeon.
Hopefully we choose our words carefully when doing battle with despicable people. We might feel like Butch choosing our weapon but our tools are perfect words.....to cut our repugnant nemesis down. How many times do we mentally rehearse what we'd like to say to that son-of-a-bitch who brings misery to our lives? We might start with a reasonably tame but precise expression of the discomfort they cause hoping words delivered bluntly, like a hammer or bat, will suffice. Or we can escalate to words that cut deeply drawing emotional blood as a samurai sword.
"Jane, you ignorant misguided slut!". We fantasize about tearing into them with our razor sharp verbal arsenal describing exactly how we feel. Nothing is too personal. No insult below is our distaste.
On a few occasions I have mentally selected my weapons to take down The Evil Princess but I regret I will never unsheathe my verbal blade. I'm just not THAT mean spirited and given the fact that she's the bossman's adopted daughter my verbal assault would be most unwise. We bite our collective tongues in the face of her laziness, near incompetence and pathological lies spun to blame everyone ..... but never anyone in the room ..... for her misdeeds. That is her Modus Operandi and Daddy owns the company so there's not a damn thing we can do. Nepotism is not a pleasant issue in the workplace but millions of regular people must toil in an environment of double standards and favoritism. I'll bet even Jesus had a favorite Apostle. C'mon Christians, isn't that what Judas was pissed off about? He wasn't part of the inner circle.
Yes, I have rehearsed a few F-bomb laden diatribes in my life but none would match the incivility and ferocity of my fantstical verbal death vent into the Princess of Nepotism. I am however wise enough to never release the hounds of my contempt. Rather than risk a slip of my razor sharp tongue I simply deal with her by not dealing with her. Silence is my weapon and my defense. My steely glare speaks volumes. This level of cold hearted disdain has my coworkers in awe. They wish they could do what I have made common practice, ignoring the bossman's daughter. They're often victims of her inane nervous chatter, that of a 10-year-old girl trapped in a woman's body. She never shuts up and they must endure her cackling, wishing she would go away, nodding and pretending they're interested in whatever she's rambling. I cannot say what that yakking is about because she won't chat idlly with me. She knows better.
The Princess sees me as unapproachable. Unless the matter at hand is directly related to company business that only I can help with she won't speak to me. I can assure you she looks elsewhere before seeking my council. That's just the way I like it. It doesn't feel right holding this level of contempt for any person but I realized over time that everyone felt the same as I. She is truly despicable and I choose to not associate with her unless my job depends on it.
Butch coldly impaled Maynard then calmly turned to the miscreant Zed with his carefully chosen weapon. He had no intention of using it unless provoked. So it will be with my weapon of words. The quick end brought by the blade would be too humane for the vile creature Zed. Butch left the sadist to a more excruciating and prolonged demise at the hands of Marsalis Wallace's pipe-hittin' henchmen. "I'ma get Medievil on your ass."
I believe dishonorable people will eventually get what's coming to them. Justice will be served and it's best to leave them to their fate. There's no need to lower ourselves by unleashing our verbal vengeance. As delicious as it might be to unchain our odium, restraint is the path of wisdom as we're often left with a bitter taste of regret knowing we behaved as disgracefully as them.
Zed is dead baby, Zed is dead.