I have now accepted that I am rapidly approaching the “GET OFF MY LAWN!” stage of Old Fartedness. High school kids have parties across the street from our house, and I think, “well, it won’t be long until one of those buggers chokes on their own vomit and makes a *spectacular* exit”. I tell people to pull up their damned pants and put their horrible ball caps on properly. And that it’s not a race to see who can get to school completely naked. Or rather, it oughtn’t be.
ANYWAY. All of this by way of mentioning that I am but two steps away from “GET OFF MY LAWN!” and “those goddamned kids and their hippity-hop music” and “what are they THINKING?” But this really isn’t about the kids. It’s about having a low tolerance for bullshit. And I mean a *really* low tolerance for bullshit.
It used to be that it took an awful lot to offend me. I’m not so sure I’m more easily offended now, but it sure doesn’t take much to piss me off. Which is why I’m thinking that maybe social media is pure crap. Except there are a handful of people I chat with every day who would be sorely missed if I gave up on all the social media.
…and it just occurred to me now that I’m pretty tired of making these self-indulgent, narcissistic blog posts about how terrible my life is and how angry I am and how UNFAIR the world is. It’s about time to stop coming across as a whiny git.
So I think I’ll not make a point of pointing out when I go through another stage where entire reams of contacts are baleeted or muted from social networks. I mean, who does that serve? “You’d better be nice or else cenobyte isn’t going to read you anymore.”
To the three people who are so incredibly, frustratingly small-minded and mind-bogglingly wrong about the way the really-really world works: I don’t like to name names unless it’s someone already in the public eye (I’m looking at YOU, Tom Lukiwski. Get off my lawn), so you can just stay on “the list”, as it were. Also, I’m sure I’d be flattered to know how many similar lists Yours Truly is on. Suffice it to say, Get Off My Lawn.
i make squee noises when you tell me stuff.