So check it. I was just directed to a post written by someone that I know pretty well. And, although I may not agree with a single thing written, I’m not such a dick as to publically thrash her. So, the names have been changed to protect the innocent.

This post has been broken down into two parts. The first being her inital rant. The second being my retort. Read. Enjoy. Keep reading…

According to statistics, the average person lies 7,500 times a day. Or something. I’m not sure of the actual figure, but when you’re writing a post it’s essential to sound authoritative in your opening sentence, so I lied about it. In truth (get it?) it seems like this is a theme for several people in my life as of late. It seems like people get all bent out of shape when their on the receiving end of a lie. And I just don’t get that. The important thing is this: everyone lies. We can’t handle the truth.

I’m no exception to the lying-human-scumbag rule; in fact I probably tell more lies than most. Usually they are standard white lies - compliments, mainly, although pretty much any statement that implies I give a fuck about anyone other than myself is almost certainly untrue. I’d also class the majority of my facial expressions as white lies: occasional looks of concern, fixed masks of rapt concentration, smiles, you name it - all absolute fucking lies. If it were socially acceptable to do so, I’d walk around looking as blank as Tom Welling. So go fuck off. Fend for yourselves. Keep reading…

You don’t even know what happened. One morning, after a wonderful night of high-grade passion and high-viscosity intimacy at her place, probably over an omelet and under a bright sun, you said something to the effect of, “I think we should move in together.” That was it.

With the tactical pace of Colombian kidnappers, she began her offensive. Commands like “Move that there” and “You don’t need that anymore!” flew like mother-and-hooker jokes in a frat house. Armed with clothing and toiletries, she continued her siege. You threw up your hands and surrendered. Keep reading…

Yes. I’m weird. Not unique. That requires a certain sense of self awareness which I clearly do not possess. See, I recently got accused of being weird in a round about sort of way. While at first I took offense to it, upon closer examination I found it a compliment. So, it’s true. I’m weird. I care about politics. And I’m not just talking voting Democrat because it’s the trendy thing to do. I’m talking about Politics. I enjoy having a fair understanding of the English language… and I’m not talking about being able to add various numbers into words to save my lazy ass from actually having to type. I like to talk about socially relevant issues and not just what Britney did last weekend.

The bottom line is this: if you’re so wrapped up in your own little world that you don’t recognize someone trying to make friends, you should probably sue your parents for not visiting an abortion clinic.