Tag Archives: hurt

Origins #25

26 May

Rene had sent through what effectively translated to “It’s not gonna happen. Leave me alone.”

I had conceded that I was out of options and that all I could do now was grit my teeth and try to get through a shitload of unexpected feelings while trying to cope with all the other shit I had going on.

Stress proof

People often get the impression that I’m unaffected by what’s happening in my life. My former manager Mike Monarch, once told me:

 “Nothing ever rattles you. You just keep going no matter what’s happening. It’s like you’re stress proof.”

I’d received many similar comments over the years. I appreciate that people saw me that way, but I had never thought it to be true. Things affect me just as badly as anyone else, but things still need to get done when you’re doing it rough, so I try to carry on and not react, which I suppose looks the same as not being affected.

ectqp

That’s the only way I knew to do things, so that’s what I was going to do.

Everyone’s a comedian

In the following week I tried to hunker down. I tried to distract myself. I tried to not feel anything by doing anything and everything else I could think of.

It wasn’t working.

Having had Rene demand I ask her out and then reject me with practically no explanation was hard enough, but everyone at work was still hassling me with jokes and teasing about her having stayed at my place. I tell you what, after the 47th “How’s Rene?” of the day, my patience would wear thin.

ok-fine

But I couldn’t snap at them because no one was allowed to know that we had hooked up, or that she had demanded I ask her out, or that she then told me we couldn’t go out, and that left me completely head-fucked. All they knew was it was fun to make jokes.

What’s reality got to do with it?

On top of that, the standard hassles from my manager Gus continued:

“I need this project finished tomorrow and this other project finished by Tuesday, and this is a new project that I want done by the end of the week and I need you to show Larry how to write the XML for those other projects, and there’s a bug causing the system to show the wrong name on the third page of the sign-up and that also affects the back-end in the participant surname somehow, I need that resolved immediately.” – Gus

“Listen, Gus, I’ve asked you to put things like this into an email because there’s no way I’ll remember all that. Also, there’s no way I can get that first project and second project done in less than a month, so there’s no way I can achieve those deadlines, let alone do all the other stuff you just listed.” – Me

“I thought you were supposed to be a good developer. A good developer would be able to keep up. Stop being so negative. Just get it done.” – Gus

“I’ll do as much as I can but I’m telling you right now, no one could get all that work done in such a short period of time.” – Me

“Stop wasting time arguing about it. Just do it.” – Gus

Gus always asked for the impossible. Even at my best I could never keep up with his nonsensical theories on how much work could be done in an hour, let alone a week.

do-it

I was doing my best not to think about Rene, but I’d run into her sister, or cop another joke about her, or see her name on a file, and I’d get distracted thinking about it. So not only was it already impossible to keep up with Gus’ ridiculous demands, I wasn’t even running on all 8 cylinders.

Cat, please exit bag

I’d nearly made it through another week but I didn’t think I could cope much longer.

After work I received a phone call from a former Everlong colleague, Bea. Bea had worked admin at Everlong for 7 years before quitting in frustration that they wouldn’t give her a shot in marketing. Bea had moved on not long after Gus had started, so she knew all about his bullshit, and she knew Rene fairly well too.

Bea and I had gotten really close in the time we worked together and I was stoked to hear from her. She told me how well she was doing in her new marketing job and how her manager there was praising her performance.

And then she told me she’d heard a rumour about me and Rene from some of the girls she used to work with.

I wasn’t sure how to handle it. I trusted Bea and desperately wanted to talk about the situation, but I’d promised not to. I asked her what she’d heard. She said that everyone was sure I was a total player and I’d had a one night stand with Rene and that’s why Tim Everlong was furious at me.

I told Bea that I’d tell her the truth, on the proviso that she not tell anyone else, and that nobody else knew anything, so if the word got out, I’d know she was the one who told. I made her promise.

dktpnky

I sat there at my kitchen counter in my shitty little apartment and told her exactly what had happened. The cool evening breeze rushed over me, hurrying its way between the open balcony door and the open front door as I relayed the tale.

Bea asked all the questions I’d been asking. All I could tell her was that I didn’t know why Rene had acted the way she had, or what was going to happen from there on out.

Two bags, one cat

As I hopped up to get a drink I turned and faced the open front door. There was Larry from work.

cat

He stammered out,

H-h-h-hey, are w-w-we still hang-hang-hanging out to-tonight?

I’d completely forgotten I’d made plans to watch The Jersey Shore with him that night. I had no idea how long he’d been standing there. I told Bea I had to go, hung up, and told Larry to come in.

He was flustered. Larry is the sort of guy who is flustered a lot anyway, but this was more than he standard jitter. He was properly nervous. He’d heard something that clued him into what had happened between me and Rene and he was clearly stressed out by that.

I asked him straight up, “What did you hear?”
“Nothing… I… didn’t… didn’t. Nothing. Nothing at all.”, he said, visibly shaking.

I told him it was ok. It wasn’t his fault he overheard.

Larry’s the sort of bloke that loves a bit of gossip and I knew he’d keep my secret because he thought I was some sort of superhero because I could talk to women without making it awkward. Oh, how wrong he was, hey?

Unlucky Larry

I went through and told Larry the whole ordeal. There was a lot of “what are you going to do?”, “What about Tim? Do you think he’ll fire you?”, “what about…”

nervous

I explained my plan to cop it on the chin and not let it affect me. I told him I was happy he knew because I’d been unable to talk about it until then, and I thought having someone who knew everyone involved and could see it from a less stressed-out perspective would help.

We yapped about it for hours while the queued episodes the Jersey Shore dribbled by with stories of drama that felt disturbingly relatable. Eventually Larry called it a night and I was left to deal with knowing that I’d  broken my promise.

r2qfh

I had very much needed to talk about it, but Larry probably wasn’t the right guy for the job. I’d become good friends with Larry and valued his opinion on things, but he was a very nervous guy and a lot of the points he had raised were the opposite of calming. Whatever I’d gained by letting the truth out, I’d lost to the new concerns Larry raised.

Denial will do the trick

Fucking drama. All that effort to avoid it and it had still found a way to detonate itself all over me. I was caked in it and there was sweet fuck all I could do about it. Except of course, to pretend it wasn’t happening.

no-prob

It was a foolproof plan. And it worked, for all of a day, that being the next day at work, but it was a Friday and maybe the glimmer of the weekend ahead had more to do with me getting through it than the THERE IS DEFINITELY NOTHING WRONG attitude I’d taken on.

im-fine

I’d gotten very quiet. I got through the usual Friday night after work drinks session almost completely silently by focussing mostly on stuffing my face with food and pouring beer in my mouth between bites. It was not an elegant solution, but it was working.

Before I left for the night, Larry reminded me that he was having a party at his place that Saturday.

What’s that, little fairy? You can help?

I spent the rest of that night and most of the following day in bed. I don’t think I slept at all. I remember staring little holes into my ceiling. I remember looking at my phone wondering when I would actually sleep. I remember not wanting to go to Larry’s party.

See, Australia’s greatest motorsport event, Bathurst was on the next day, and I always get up early to watch that, usually about 5:30am.

13e5146gnptdww

But I had to go, because Larry didn’t have much luck with people showing up to his parties. There was a very real possibility that if I didn’t go, he might end up with nobody there at all. Plus, Larry’s place was barely two blocks away from mine so I really had no excuse.

I was happy to see that other people had showed up. The core group of the guys from work were already there when I arrived, which was great because they were all good for a laugh, and a laugh was exactly what I was in need of. Well, any distraction really, and therein lay the problem because there was a partygoer there I hadn’t anticipated… a little green fairy.

IMG_3320

Larry had heard my stories about enjoying the very fancy ritual of having an Absinthe and decided to buy an entire bottle of the most aggressive, high alcohol content Absinthe he could find.

Larry offered me some. I accepted. He couldn’t finish his and offered it to me. I accepted. His sister couldn’t finish hers, so she offered it to me. I accepted.

shots

It turned out very few attendees were willing to ignore the face-kicking nature of this super-charged Absinthe to get to its ever-so-pleasant mind numbing effects. But I was willing.

damn-good-stuff

I was very willing.

And as the bottle emptied, so did my mind.

I didn’t have any problems.

Everything was fine.

The more Absinthe I drank, the less static I could hear.

My mind was getting quiet.

All my thoughts were drifting away.

I was breaking free.

wine

What’s your poison?

I don’t remember anything after the third full glass of Absinthe I consumed. That little green fairy had deceived me. She wasn’t calming me down. She was trying to drown me. She was trying to poison me. She was trying to suck me into the darkness forever. She was trying to kill me.

I drank roughly 3/4 of that bottle of Absinthe and I’m fairly certain I gave myself alcohol poisoning in the process.

giphy1

The rest of this I only know based on what people later told me, or the evidence I discovered for myself…

Larry was so worried about me that he had someone drive me the two or so blocks home. Despite the short distance, I managed to vomit in their car, the first of several times for the evening.

grgl

 

I always loop my key chain around my belt loop to ensure I never lose them, but I had forgotten that somehow, and after I opened the front door to my shitty little apartment I apparently walked straight on with the key still in the lock, and fell face first when the slack of the chain came tight.

wasted

Based on the evidence I found, instead of taking the now bent key out of the lock, I kicked my shoes off and climbed out of my jeans. Then I crawled onwards, leaving the front door wide open. My key left in the lock, with my jeans dangling off it via the chain.

No joke

I know this all sounds silly and funny now, but I’m not kidding around when I mentioned alcohol poisoning. I’ve drunk a LOT in my time. I’ve woken up with the sort of hangover that left me promising to never drink again, and then done that again the next day. I’ve been unable to get out of bed from Saturday morning through Sunday afternoon, but I have never, ever felt anywhere near as bad as I did the morning after all that Absinthe.

That was the only time I have ever been worried I wouldn’t survive.

frg

To put it into perspective a light hangover lasts a morning, a regular hangover lasts a day, and a severe hangover lasts a weekend. It took me more than a week to recover from this one.

iz1b1i

I felt how this looks

I was physically, mentally, and emotionally destroyed.

So much for denial.

Full circle

And with that, we’re now back to Origins #1.

That’s not the end of the story. The drama only escalates from here. Things get more insane with Rene, and I’ll introduce you to Mia, who makes Rene appear rational by comparison. Dear lord, what a life I’ve lived.

Seeya next time.

Origins #23

23 May

After yet another awkward moment with my boss’s daughter I was trying to ignore the bombardment of mockery from my colleagues regarding the fact that she’d spent the night at my place. I’d made it through the day, despite the surprise meeting, and had escaped the office at last.

I spent the rest of that day trying to figure out how to deal with my very complex situation. I had found myself between the proverbial rock and hard place and there was no obvious way out. Rene had asked me to keep the situation secret, so I couldn’t talk to anyone about it, which meant I had to put up with all this teasing despite currently trying to deal with being rejected by a girl who had literally demanded that I ask her out.

I really needed to talk to someone about it. Like, realllllly needed to, but I’d agreed not to. So I stared holes in the walls and ceiling hunting for a way to not get too stressed out about it all. Even though I was confident I’d figure it out, there was still emotion to it.

The scenario had hit me like a tonne of bricks. I was hurting very, very badly but I don’t think I was capable of understanding just how deeply I’d been cut. All I knew at that point was I wanted the situation to change as soon as possible. I don’t remember that night especially well, but I’m sure I didn’t sleep a wink.

Another day, another billion jokes about fucking the boss’s daughter

I trudged off to work again. I’d been knackered the day before but I had gone another night without sleep, so I was completely annihilated. And the jokes came my way all day long.

I tried to politely deny their insinuations as they come in from my colleagues in my little room. I tried to dissuade their innuendos as they came from colleagues from other rooms around the building. I tried to calm the tide as they started coming in via email from our head office. I couldn’t keep up with them. They came in faster than I could read them.

It was not an easy day.

I wasn’t sure how to cope with it, and I wanted Rene to at least see what I was dealing with, so I collated a few of the more ‘entertaining’ emails and forwarded them to her. Rene replied that it looked like everyone was having fun and that she wished she could get in there and fire a few responses back.

But… Powderfinger!

If you recall from earlier, my favourite band were doing a farewell tour before retiring. I had tickets to their show that night. I was physically and emotionally exhausted, but there was no way in hell I’d miss that show.

Powderfinger always had the ability to articulate the world I’d been living in and convert what I’d been dealing with in my life into a form of music that resonated deeply in me.

I assume their music sounds dated to anyone listening for the first time so many year’s later, but they were hugely influential on me when I first heard them as a 16 year old kid in high school.

In a lot of ways Powderfinger played the role of providing a soundtrack to key events of my life. When I left school and started to work as a pizza delivery boy I would listen to Internationalist on loop for hours on end in my car. When I went back to study multimedia they’d be on high rotation on my clunky portable CD player and my very first mp3 player. They seemed to be at every major music festival so I’d often see them live and be ever amazed by their ability to grab a crowd by the ears and leave everyone smiling at the end.

I wasn’t alone in liking them. They were Australia’s biggest band for nearly a decade. They won all the awards an Aussie band can win and were heralded by critics and punters alike.

I was 31 at that point and I suppose their retirement shouldn’t have been as important to me as it was. Something I had always enjoyed was coming to an end. One more thing was being taken away from me. For reasons that I’ll explain a little later, I had always found those moments difficult.

Nevertheless, I could be sad about it later. I had one more chance to see them live with thousands of other die-hard fans, and that’s exactly what I was going to do.

Exhaustion? Bullshit! Grab us a drink

There was one solution for any and all problems where I grew up, and that was alcohol. I’d always thought that a very primitive approach to problem solving, but I was out of ideas and I wasn’t about to waste the last opportunity I had to see Powderfinger, so I met up with my friends for a drink before the show.

We found our way to some fancypants bar a very short walk from the venue and proceeded to do our very best impression of liquor consumption machines. It’s funny the way a quiet drink leads to a loud drink. In this case it lead us to the loudest of all drinks; a drink I had only recently become accustomed with in Europe… Absinthe.

Being a fancy pants bar, they not only had Absinthe, they did the whole ritual of  burning the sugar with the fancy spoon and everything.

 

You know there’s something wrong when the bar tender’s going to that level of complexity and all you’re thinking is “just get me the fucking alcohol, mate.”

A few more rounds (or ten) and it was time to go to the show! I might not have known exactly who or where I was but I was ready to have a good time.

HOLY SHIT. THEY’RE SINGING MY LIFE AT ME.

Powderfinger were known for writing songs that people related to. Even completely sober I related to those songs. Half full of absinthe, dealing with everything I was dealing with, the impact was amplified.

I mean, they started with this…

and then threw this in.

I’m sure you get the idea.

They played a bunch of brilliant songs. The crowd was loving it. The band was loving it, and letting us know it too. It was a big love-in. They even played that same stones track I’d heard them playing as I foolishly leaned in to try and kiss Rene only a few days prior.

It was as good a show as anyone could have asked for, and like many other things in my life at that point, it was coming to an end weather I liked it or not. The appropriateness of the moment was not missed by anyone as they finished a bittersweet night with thousands of people singing along to their most beloved, most bittersweet song.

And with that a present became past

The encore had been and gone. The second encore had been and gone. That was the last time I’ll ever feel the buzz of joy that always tingled its way through a packed crowd at a Powderfinger show.

It was over. The thousands of screaming fans begging for more couldn’t change that reality and eventually we rall ealised that and began the inch by inch shuffle to the exits.

I was forlorn. The nostalgia had drowned me. That moment in time summed up exactly how I was feeling about my life. Everything was on the verge of slipping away and there was nothing I could do about it.

What’s that you say, alcohol?

You think I should send Rene an email? Oh surely you jest, old friend. Now is hardly the time for such things!

Oh how I wish I had not listened to my old friend alcohol, but I didn’t recognise him hidden in that disguise as my new friend Absinthe. So after I got home from that very sentimental show, I sent Rene a very sentimental email.

I can assure you that if there is a way to convert a cringe directly into an email, I managed to do so that night. I don’t remember much of what I wrote, but I know it included the following concepts:

“You don’t need to reply to this.”

“I really don’t understand what happened.”

“I like you more when you let your guard down.”

“If you get your head around whatever you’re dealing with and want to hang out, I’ve got some free time Sunday”

Oh God, the shame! It’s so humiliating to think about the fact that I actually hit send on that. Fuck.

embarrased

Just one of many, many, many more cringey things to come though.

 

Next time…

Rene replies to the email she didn’t have to reply to and my sneaky little buddy Absinthe gives me a few days rest before he doing his level best to kill me.

A punch to the face is not a “love-tap”

3 Feb

First off, a punch to the face is not a love-tap. This girl is ridiculous and unbelievably irresponsible. I think she is just saying it for the attention it brings, and I can’t decide if that’s better or worse than her actually believing it.

Crazy bitch tip: If anyone hits you, they don’t know how to love you. Get the fuck away from them.

Motherly love

4 Jan

I have a huge affinity for the mothers of the world. The older I get the more I realise just how challenging an undertaking it is to raise a child and just how much hard work and sacrifice goes into it. To the billions of mothers of the world who have put their children’s needs and wants ahead of their own, I salute you and I hope your children show their gratitude to you for everything you have done and will do for them.

A tattoo with the word "Mom" in a love heart

With that said, there are a few mothers out there who are really letting the rest of the team down. I’m not talking about the mother’s who didn’t know the right thing to say when their child was upset, or couldn’t find a way to afford that special item the kid was dreaming of having, or the ones who had no choice but to end the relationship with their child’s father and unfortunately had to put the kid through a tough time in the process. No, those are parts of life. As difficult as those things might be, they’re not malicious acts.

bad

Unacceptable

The mothers who are letting everyone else down are those who refuse to accept the responsibilities of being a parent. That’s some real bullshit right there. Your kid has only got one mother and it’s impossible to overstate how important that mother is to her child. To not at least try to do the best for your child is unconscionable. Aside from the very, very small percentage of women who are genuinely forced into being a mother without any choice in the matter, the rest either chose to have a child or at least chose to ignore the steps that go into avoiding having a child.

Once the kid is born, you’ve got one responsibility before all else: to ensure that child gets the best life you can possibly provide him/her/other-politically-correct-alternate-gender-title. If it’s not in you to devote yourself to that child it’s better to put them up for adoption and allow someone else to show that child the love they’ll need.

To not give your kid your all is pretty shitty, but the sad thing is, there are mothers out there who are doing an even worse job than that. There are mothers out there who actually intentionally mistreat their children. If ever there’s someone who deserves the title of crazy bitch, it’s a mother who knowingly harms her child.

Here are a few examples not to follow if you’re fortunate enough to get the opportunity to be a mother:

I didn’t know it was possible to fit the word whore so many times into an 11 minute conversation with your son.

Crazy bitch tip: It’s never ok to wear a white dress to a wedding, least of all to your daughters. Also, when your children are telling you that you’ve hurt them over and over, acknowledgement and an apology is a better starting point than trying to convince them that they’re wrong.

Apparently she “didn’t mean to do that one”.

Crazy bitch tip: You should be mortified if you cause your child to fall and smash their head onto the ground, and if you’re not it’s time to speak to a psychologist about why.

This one is so hard to watch.

Crazy bitch tip: Discipline and torture are not the same thing. If your child is shrieking like an animal from the physical or emotional pain you’re inflicting upon them, you’re doing it wrong.

Crazy bitch tip: if even your dog can tell that you’re doing the wrong thing, it’s time to adjust your approach.

Crazy bitch tip: it is more important to feed your child than have access to the internet.

Crazy bitch tip: not everyone is meant to breed.

The truly revolting

Crazy bitch tip: you’re supposed to fucking protect your children from predators, not invite them into your home.

Crazy bitch tip: if your boyfriend wants to fuck your children, get the fuck away from him!

Crazy bitch tip: do not pimp out your own goddamned child!

Crazy bitch tip: do not pimp out your own goddamned handicapped child! For Fuck’s sake!!!!!!!!!

 

Parenting: you’re doing it wrong;

2 Mar

I don’t have kids, so it’s fair to say I’m not the best person to go around judging anyone for how they parent their children. Then again, there are some parents out there who do such an impressively bad job of it that it’s tough not to think they should probably know better.

For instance, a Florida woman sent her daughter to school wearing this home made shirt:

the shame shirtIn case you can’t read it, it says:

My name is [blanked out]
I Currently Have All F’s
IN ALL OF My Classes. I AM
NOt aloud to have A boyfriend
No tiMe Soon. So back OFF before
I get another good WOOPIN like
I got last Night. Also I can NO
longer have ANY Friends until
All OF My F’s Are All Brought
Up to C’s And UP!!!

I was going to do that [sic] thing to point out that I’m knowingly reproducing grammatical errors, but if I put one of those in at every error, the quote would have gone on for miles, [sic] to the whole damned thing, ok?

In addition to this mother’s efforts to publicly shame her child by forcing her to wear this shirt, the woman was not kidding about the ‘Woopin’ she mentioned, and her daughter was covered in black and blue marks.

According to Hernando County Sheriff’s Department spokeswoman Denise Moloney, “She beat the child with a belt, and the belt had some sort of metal on it.”

Like I said, I’m not a parent, but… I reckon there are a few key aspects of being a parent that even I can point out as good and/or bad approaches.

For example, one responsibility as a parent is to protect your child. This woman from Florida seems to get the gist of this concept but is failing in the execution of it. See, I think it’s pretty obvious that the mother’s rationale is that by beating the crap out of her daughter and sending her to school in an humiliating shirt, she’s protecting the young girl from bad influences and trying to help her focus on her schooling.

The problem is, the mother has actually caused more harm to her daughter in the process of trying to protect her, than ever would have occurred if the girl failed out of school completely. Being beaten by one of the two people in the world you expect to protect you from beatings is a pretty rough thing to go through. The beating itself is painful, but it’s the memories of your protector causing you to suffer so badly that really lingers.

The public shaming aspect is off the mark too. Sure, this mother wanted to bring home the point that her daughter hasn’t been doing the best she can. Clearly it was important to the mother that her child take on board that schooling is important and that  failing out of all her classes is unacceptable, but, publicly humiliating a child at school is not a good way to encourage her to want to go to school.

So, those are the thoughts of someone who doesn’t have kids, but what do I know?

Well, I do know that the local sheriffs office has arrested the mother for child abuse, so I guess my whole “don’t beat and humiliate your children” thing is somewhat in line with the way they think. Here’s the mugshot of the woman alleged of these actions.author of shirt

Crazy bitch tip: do not beat and humiliate your children, even if they’re not doing as well at school as you’d like.

“They’re kind of upset” – Kendra Sunderland

13 Feb

Imagine you had a college aged daughter. You’ve spent 20 odd years raising her from the time she was an infant. You were there when she could barely walk on her own. You were there for all her big firsts. Her first birthday, her first word, her first steps, her first crush, her first heartbreak, her first day at high school, her first day at university. She’s a part of you and you’re a part of her. You’ve spent more money than you could ever count on her and you got it by working more hours than you’d ever thought possible just to provide the best for your little girl.

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Yes, it does say “Beavers”

And then she posts videos of herself publicly playing with her boobs and her vagina for strangers on the internet for money instead of just getting a regular job.

Yep. That’s not the fairy tale ending most parents have in mind as they change shitty nappy after shitty nappy, or while they’re being woken up by their screaming daughter in the middle of the night, every night, for a year or two. Most parents really don’t expect to be repaid for all their hard work by discovering that their beautiful little girl has been flashing her gash on the internet for money.

Unfortunately for Kendra Sunderland’s parents, that’s exactly what happened to them.

In Kendra’s own words: ‘They’re kind of upset’.

‘They’re kind of upset’. That’s right… ‘They’re kind of upset‘. I’m thinking they’re more than kind of upset. I’m betting they’re furious. I’m betting they’re humiliated. I’m betting they’re heartbroken.

And what does Kendra have to say about it?

“Working a minimum wage job, there’s people that are just mean to you when they’re having a crappy day. On [porn site], users had nothing but nice things to say. And I made way more than I would working any other job.” – Kendra Sunderland

So to get around the hard work of putting up with people who’ve had a difficult day, Kendra chose instead to go to the library at her university and have naughty fun times with herself on camera, for money. Nevermind that it was illegal to do so, or that it was going to make her school look pretty bad for letting it happen, or that it could eventually cause her parents to be mocked mercilessly on the internet, Kendra wanted to make more than minimum wage.

A picture of wisdom

A vision of wisdom

There are a lot of social issues at play here. I mean, what did she want that money for? Why was it so important to her that she’d so willingly create her own public porn videos to achieve it? Why didn’t she consider the consequences? The answers to those questions are for another time, on a different website.

For now, on How Not To Be A Crazy Bitch, let me offer the advice that I’m sure Kendra’s parents wish their daughter would have taken. There are better ways to earn money than performing sex acts in public for the internet. There are flow on affects of doing things like that and that includes hurting your parents. That’s why it’s not a good idea.

Crazy bitch tip: Just because there are people telling you they’ll give you money if you take off your clothes, doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to do so.

PS: Look, if you really want to find the video, google that shit because you won’t find it here!

Jealousy is ugly

2 Oct

People are competitive. That’s part of what got us to the moon. It’s a big part of the reason we have people that can do awesome things that seem like they should be impossible. For example:

For the record, this was the least ‘T&A’ focused video I could find of women doing awesome shit, and that sort of ties in with what I wanted to write about today.

Most people are average looking, that’s exactly what average means. Some people are good looking, which is a nice little bonus in life but doesn’t really help anyone all that much in the grand scheme of things. But then you get the model-level good looking people. They’re people who are so good looking, it’s distracting. For some people, seeing a model-level good looking person makes them self-conscious, and that makes them angry at the model-type person. That anger has a few names but most people know it either as envy or jealousy.

Envy and jealousy are very ugly traits which often trigger people’s built-in drive to compete. I’m no shrink but I’d have to think both jealousy and envy come from insecurity. Insecurity, envy and jealousy can be very ugly traits when they’re revealed to the world. And I mean, downright repulsive.

“Too pretty”

There are two young women in Argentina that showed just how ugly jealousy can become and they really pushed themselves into crazy-bitch territory in doing so. See, these two teenage girls had seen 15 year old Julia Alvarez around town and came to the conclusion that Julia was so attractive, she was ‘too pretty’. What the hell does that mean?

Well, to these girls, Maira (16) and Flor (18), ‘Too pretty’ meant they found Julia so threateningly attractive, they would need to alter her appearance to make her less competitive in the looks department. These two teenaged girls stepped over the threshold into psycho-land when they decided to become knife wielding attackers who told Julia “Everyone says you are pretty. You won’t look pretty when we have finished with you. People will call you Chucky.“, a reference to the character of the same name from the horror movie, Child’s play.

Chucky

Sure, you could use logic and realise that at most, Julia was probably only going to get involved with one guy at a time, maybe even two, leaving the other 3 billion or so available, but that’s useless rational thinking, and there’s no room for rationality in the minds of knife wielding psycho-bitches hell-bent on eradicating beauty from the world. So instead of accepting that there are, in fact, people out there in the world who are better looking than themselves, Maira and Flor used their knives to slash the flesh of a beautiful young woman, over and over, until they were satisfied she was no longer more beautiful than them.

I’ve chosen not to include the more graphic images of Julia’s injuries from the attack, but this one gives you some idea how vicious the attack was.

One of these cuts required 20 stitches alone.

One of these cuts required 20 stitches.

The more gruesome the images are available in this Daily Mail article, but be warned, they’re not pleasant.

Personality matters more

Maira and Flor cut Julia because they thought doing so would make them comparatively more attractive than her. This is solid evidence that they’re very, very confused about what really matters when it comes to being attractive. Most people can get past looking at a scar or two but it’s a lot more difficult to get past the fact that your romantic interest has a bad history of getting jealous and putting knives into people. The fact that these two horrid little trolls couldn’t figure that out for themselves is evidence that they already had very unattractive personalities and the fact that they went through with it makes them about as ugly as you can get.

If you feel threatened by how attractive other people are, that’s because you lack self-confidence. Get out there and start doing what you love and find a way to be so happy about who you are. Focus on having an awesome personality because your personality will stick around a lot longer than your looks. I can’t speak for everyone else but I know personally that I find an average looking woman with an awesome personality far more attractive as a partner than a supermodel with the personality of a goldfish.

Sure, good looks turn heads, but good personalities win hearts.

Don’t

For the sake of the rest of us, please don’t fall into the trap of thinking that looks are something to compete on. Fashion is a competitive world and look how that turns out:

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So let’s not go jumping on board that train too damned quick. Yes, it’s nice to look good. Yes, good looking people get a few advantages in life but they also sometimes get attacked by knife-wielding psychopaths, so it’s not all roses. You probably look just fine, and even if you don’t, remember that pretty much everyone ends up finding someone who loves them.

I bet this dude has a HUGE personality.

I bet this dude has a HUGE personality.

Some people can see past physical shortcomings.

Even his friend is happy to see they’re finally ready to show their love to the world.

Crazy bitch tip: If you think there are people out there who are ‘too pretty’, put the knife down and speak to a shrink.

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