FARTS OF SPEECH (ANGER MISMANAGEMENT) #6

If I asked you to list down all the things that made you angry, would you be able to do it? I certainly wouldn’t be able to do it. In fact, my first item on the list would be, “making a list”. Making a list in my experience is writing down everything that I consider important, only so I can forget about it later.

It’s a chore, so I treat it like one: Mixing and matching socks because you can’t find the right pair, eating ice cream with a fork because you don’t have washed spoons, wearing your dirty t-shirt inside out when you are home alone, munching on dry muesli because you ran out of milk. You get the picture!

The second item on the list would be to wear (or take off) a tight pair of jeans when you are in a hurry. Or worse, to wear the ones that are rolled inside out, especially if for some reason you did not realize it when you put your first leg inside it. For those ten seconds, I couldn’t give a less fuck about a baby getting punched or a puppy getting punted across the hall.

I often wonder, how much patience pretty girls have, who wear ripped tight jeans with multiple holes in them? Probably a lot! Because they know which hole their feet should go through without ripping the jeans from top to bottom like the barks of a banana tree. They are good at such a job and it simply sucks that it’s never their job to tear a condom box open, when the libido is paramount and the packet is heat sealed with untearable plastic. To tear that thing open, you need the sword made out of valerian steel from Archmaestor Thurgood’s inventories of Westeros. Which is still not the worst part, the worst part is that you may not have realized but thirty seconds is a lot of time. Other than no sex, it can also result in a fight about how weak your fingers are. Which is, well … a fucking weird thing to fight about.  

Thirdly, people who give me several crumpled-up notes all at once like it’s not money, can I hurt you a little? Why would you fold the twenties like they are fifties? Whom are you tricking? I am not a stripper and you’re not sliding the notes in my brassiere. Which reminds me, I heard from someone once; If you fold a two-dollar bill neatly and confidently slide it in a stripper’s bra, bitch thinks it’s a twenty.

I have never done it myself, but I think it’s a pretty good – tip.

I am anyway a person who keeps the hundreds with five hundreds and thousands in one section of the wallet and tens with twenties and fifties in the other. I am particular about monetary denominations and class segregation. I don’t want money with lesser value to know they are valued less and in a few years will become obsolete.

And coins? I keep my coins with condoms. So, when a beggar holding two infants he can’t feed, asks me for money, I give him all three – the coins, the condoms, and the advice on how not to fuck.

Fourthly, the honkers; just because you have something doesn’t mean you should blow it. For instance, your own genitals.

Fifth(ly?), people chewing their food louder than their dressing sense and make up. I personally think that a person shouldn’t chew or breathe louder than the sound of silence. First two crunches of your Pringles is fine, but the om nom yom that follows, isn’t. I always have an extreme urge to pop the eatards in their mouth; gender, age and sexual orientation won’t change my mind. I don’t want to discriminate against anyone. I want to pop, girls, guys, men, women, queers – basically any human being who doesn’t identify himself or herself as a pig – with two quick pieces in their jaws with a biscuit. Pow! Pow!

And I know, some people have special conditions and they can’t help but breathe out loud like a fucking fire dragon. But I have a condition too, and my condition is this: Lower your breathing and eating decibels or else we are not going out together in public.

I am also not answering you, if I am mouth full and you have a question for me. You, and your questionnaire can take a seat for now. I will fill your bubbles later. If you have already waited, then please wait longer. I will talk to you in about two more chicken legs from now. Meanwhile, please take a deep breath, gather more thoughts, and eat the guacamole – a food item that is as extra as you are.

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