If a man puts a cord around his neck, God will provide someone to pull it. -Unknown (will find later)

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Mobile Email from a Cingular Wireless Customer http://www.cingular.com

Sorry, I have to Shampoo my Carpet...

^Perfect example of an unsocial person^
I fucking hate unsocial people...I think most people understand that I am more social than others and that I just enjoy being around people like myself more than the quieter ones; while this is partially fact, the more true flipside is that I actually HATE being around those who are unsocial, they are annoying, questioning, sneaky, and way too fucking observant:

• their "I don't know what to say" thought pattern
• their "I don't know what to do" indecisiveness
• their constant doting and desire to please you, and their inability to understand that maybe you actually want them to make the decision and not just say "whatever you want to do"
• their inability to cope with change
• their thoughts that are too deep for their own good
• the invisible constant pressure on you to be the leader
• the silent look away when "you've hurt them" and their unwillingness to tell you about it directly as they believe that, because they are the quiet one, all root malcontent must flow from YOUR physical being
• the obligations that come along with befriending an unsocial - you must be their pal until a certain event reaches its end because they refuse to venture and talk to others

This post is most definitely not aimed toward any single individual and was not written because of any particular event, recent or retro, but because I am simply bored and have never expressed explicitly this feeling.

Responding, Poignantly...

I replied to a question beset on a "Libran Group" on MySpace to the question, "What is your most annoying Libran trait [as a Libran]?" with this:

My memory problem, being so far set in that a 80-year-old's gelatinous medula may rival my own at certain times, along with my severe OCD of indecisiveness <=it's hell on wheels, traversing hinter me wherever I go, affecting (or, rather, NOT affecting) my choice of ice cream, clothes, fajitas, etc...well, I guess it's mostly food...even today, I had an argument with myself whether I wanted the taboule salad on top of romaine or not - mom decided = yes.

I'm not exactly sure where the word "poignantly" came from as I began typing a title, seeing as how it is one of the rarest words I use, even in my baroque-ish writing; but, I assume it came from the same exact place as...fuck. Remember up there (points ^) where I said about my memory? Well...the word I was about to say is now lost in my sea of neurons, and may well wash ashore before the conclusion of this post.

The dreams have started - and NO I'm not talking about those dreams...I mean my dreams of being on an airplane, over the ocean, on my way to Deutschland, which shall come to cognizant fruition in approximately dreiundzwanzig Tage, on July 6th. Oh yes, it IS that close. My departure will be the catalyst of what I am deeming the 51-Days-of-Fun-and-Freedom-from-American-Oppression, or 51DFFAM <=stick that in your meth pipe and smoke it, you Bradford-County fuck!