What if I told you how awesome I was

collage mixed media artwork

Would you believe me? Probably not. Look at me. I don’t post many pictures of myself for fear people will make fun of me. I live across the street from a middle school and I have to leave my house before the kids get out at 2:30 or after 3:30 when they have all left the area. Kids are mean. Why is it anyone else can make fun of me and I laugh or shrug it off but kids can get to your core? Weird.

I love listening to people talk themselves up to be so awesome. My fascination with douchebags has almost become my hobby. Wait no, it is my hobby. I’ve always been a big fan of people watching. Now eves dropping is pretty cool because people say some of the dumbest shit and some conversations are so lame and pathetic you pray for death. It used to just be the douchebags at work but their conversation is the same lamest shit everyday that I’ve had to move on. So I picked up on listening in on peoples conversations at restaurants, cafes, stores, the train, wherever. I was at a restaurant once and I heard this guy going on and on about himself and all I could think was, “Oh, these people can’t be buying what this dude is saying, are they?” Sadly, they were. Or were they?

How many times have you been in a situation and the people are laughing and going along with some loser and when that person leaves and someone says, “That guy is such a piece of shit.” I see it daily because I’m that person that says, “That guy is such a piece of shit.” And everyone that was laughing and going along with the guy nod in agreement. Then those people want to be your friend because “You’re so honest” and you’re like, “Get the fuck out of here. I don’t want to be your friend.” Again, daily for me. My question is, “If you know they’re full of shit or just not interesting. Why do you continue?”

My favorite thing to watch is when someone is going on and on about how tired they are, how hard they work, everyone else is lazy and people are smiling and going “Yup, I know.” I stand there with my head cocked sideways like a curious dog because I know they’re the most worthless thing in the joint. All the while you know that the person they’re telling this too also knows that this person is a piece of shit. What they are really saying is if they huff and puff and act like they’ve been working so hard and throw their coworkers under the bus, people will think they do all the work?

Then there’s Bob the partier. You know the guy at work you say, “Hey how are ya?” His immediate response, “Hungover.” The guy that no matter what the conversation is he’s got a story about something awesome he did or one of his drunken crazy stories. “Hey Bob, the only person you’re trying to convince as to how awesome you are is yourself. We are well aware of what a pud you are.” Keep it movin’.

I’m blown out of the water when people say good things about someone who is a known douchebag. How do you not see that they are worthless? Sadly they do but for whatever reason, they go along with it. This is disrespecting yourself. Don’t disrespect yourself.

It all comes down to confusing people. If I tell you how awesome I am and throw others under the bus, I look great. You might think that this is bullshit, but people believe it on a daily basis. If I confuse you, you don’t know what side to take. Am I lying or telling the truth? You won’t say anything to me because you won’t have an argument. You will walk away because you, A) Do not want to deal with the issue B) You won’t know the issue. Either way, I win. If you can’t identify the situation, you can’t argue it. This is where I confuse you to the point you give up. You see, people don’t observe. They listen. Instead of seeing for themselves, making their own judgements, watching and learning. They listen to what they’re told and believe it. Politicians. Government. Corporations. Your Boss.

In conclusion, what I would really like to say is, my blog is the best. You have no need to go anywhere else. I’m your friend. Martha Stewart? Please, what a loser. Don’t even get me started on Rachel Ray. Make me puke. Do you know how hard I work? Day and night, writing, working on recipes, spending money around New York to let you know where to go and the best places to grab a meal. Who came up with the Sanity Bank to help us in this crazy world? Not your government and sure as hell not Rachel. It was me and only me.

You’re welcome and remember…I love you!


“Change in the quality of life for one group of humanity, for better or worse, inevitably leads to a change in the quality of life for all humanity”