#79 - I’m Not Comfortable with That

Since when did everyone’s feelings become the most imperative asset to protect in life? I mean, I’m all for fairness across the board, but your anxiety for anything unfamiliar is fucking annoying.  

Now, you sensitive snowflakes who feel violated when something unexpected or uninvited enters your personal bubble, please realize that for the past 200,000 years human beings have choked down a cornucopia of shit sandwiches so you could have free speech, paved roads and internet. Let’s see, I probably shouldn’t leave out the history of armed invaders that came in looking to impale and rape everything that moved. And then there’s droughts, famine, pestilence, heat waves, floods, earthquakes, you get the point--all so you can melt your entitled ass into the couch allocating your invaluable energy to the commentary of ego-battles of dipshits jockeying for the title of Tiger King.  

We all know who the king is, and his fucking name is Simba! 

And that tiger by the way, had it not been trapped, encaged, and transported, would still be liver lurking through the brush, sniffing for the taste of Taco Bell infused blood to lick from its jowls after having shredded your flesh once alerted by your fart from a mile away.  

In that brilliant brain of yours, you somehow seem to have overlooked some basic historical facts, which appears obvious when you perceive that a stranger who talks to you outside of your social circle is a threat. You live in my neighborhood. My car is in the shop. Was I totally out of line asking if I could hop a ride to the grocery store? 

You know what? I’m not comfortable with your being uncomfortable.  

I demand a bong hit as recompense.

Oh yeah, I forgot, you don’t smoke weed. It’s “not your thing.”