Being Social…

Being social is not as fun as it used to be.  It has become a lot more difficult as I get older as is the case with frequent urination and an overall inability to control my anger towards slow drivers and balloon making clowns.  Frankly, I find that having to be social has become the thing I dread most about my adulthood.  Hey, I can yuk it up with the best of them but put me at a neighborhood party in the wrong frame of mind and I just want to kick somebody’s ass.  I simply don’t want any more friends…and hey, I am not saying that people are standing in line to be my friend either so what’s the point.

Let’s consider the all to familiar Christmas parties…it literally takes me all of January to get passed the agony of having to make small talk with the guy that I like even less this year than last.  And, it is not like the women like it any more than the men…truth be told they would like to grab most of their so called “friends” by the hair and bitch slap them into next week but simply won’t admit it.  Maybe I am just the lone person who will come right out and tell it like it is.  I guess I am a lot like that strange, fat, out-of-work trucker that lived next door to me years ago…odd guy but gave some great advice after a long afternoon of watching TV and knocking down a 30 pack of Keystone Lite …”there are two things you don’t talk about with people you don’t know…politics or religion,” he said.  Then, as he took one more puff off of his cig and pitched it over the fence into my yard I thought to myself…I will do you one even better…how about we just not talk at all.  Here is a motivational moment for you…next time your neighbor wants to talk just wave and say…not gonna happen pal.  He may flip you off but at least you’ll understand each other.

Keep em’ coming and watch em’ go.

Mr. Mike McMichaelson

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  1. Michael Corleone says:

    Mike – I sure can relate to your hostility! Driving past all the “big-timers” on Battlefield really piss me off! Wine and cheese – who the hell do these people think they are? What is wrong with Velvetta melted over a perfectly good Ritz craker?!!! I hear you on not wanting to yuck it up with some clown that has decided to get “social” in his later years because it didn’t work out when it mattered – which we all know was 8th grade!