And AGAIN, ME being sarcastic:

You know I’d say shut up but I know freedom of speech and freedom of the press and freedom of the pulpit all as well as they can be known so why don’t you do yourself a favor and, instead of trying to find a spot on my front lawn to take a piss realize that I will take a firehose to your skirt and blow you across the street like a dried up maple leaf if you decide to ‘seriously’ engage with me.

I don’t even pick my teeth with ‘brains’ like yours. They taste too much like flecks of tea leaf which got out of a bag and triumphantly announced to themselves:

“HOORAY! We are finally thinking out of the box.”

Lady, you’re in hot water wearing nothing but a translucent tea bag and even though I could look for longer than a minute in your direction YOU actually bore me. The concept of a person like you is the thing that interests me.

It isn’t because you’re pretty or witty, either.

It’s because carriers of mirrors and grand as the one in your purse ought not also carry ball peen hammers when the guy who is carrying Mjolnir is in the room.

Just sit down and shut up. Everyone ‘gets’ that everyone ‘gets’ free speech and can decide for themselves what they want to do, and even whether they will decide to feel embarrassed when they get spanked as hard as I just spanked the living shit out of you.

Go home you tramp.

See? See how we see the word “sarcastic” quite differently? When I use it, I am saying all that I am saying is a joke. Like, “this, only the reverse.”

And now you understand why I reserve sarcasm for Sundays, normally. Because it’s more sensible as defined by results in less confusion.

wink