Small talk needs to fucking die. It has no place in our lives. I'm not even referring to "how was your day?" or "What's up?" because those are just conversation starters and I'd be quite the asshole, well a bigger asshole if I had a problem with those cursory statements. I'm talking about "how was work?", comments on the weather we all are well aware of as fellow living things, and just things we generally don't care about, like people I don't know and don't care about, mostly celebrities and your family.
I love my family. Love them. But do I talk about what my sister is going to school for ever? Absolutely never. Is that because I have no clue what she goes to school for? Noooo. That fact is irrelevant. She goes for something, I'm pretty sure. If you're reading this Adrianna, let me know sometime, love you! Anyways, wasn't that last sentence the most boring thing you've ever read? Precisely my point.
So don't tell me about your daughter's ballet recital. Unless she's single, attractive (to me) and over 18.
Don't show me pictures of your baby, all babies look the same to me, actually most people under the age of 17 look the same to me, so forget them too.
Your dog is boring. I have a cat I love. Wanna hear about him? google the word cat, that should sum it up.
Your work is boring, if you hear me talk about mattresses for more than 10 consecutive seconds you have permission to slap me across the face.
Don't talk to me about sports that aren't on ESPN or are soccer. That's a personal one, just an FYI.
And if this offends you in any way, good news, you don't have to talk to me! We both win! Well mostly me but whatever! Good luck and take my advice and be interesting, people will love you or hate you, and that's better than getting stuck in shit conversations with people you hate right?
You know what I hate? "How's it going?" Fuck you. You want to know the truth? I tried to fuck someone last night and I couldn't get an erection. So most of today I've been thinking about hanging myself. Which is kind of ironic because then there would be two useless pieces of shit hanging in my apartment. But do I say that? Nope. When someone asks me "how's it going" I tell them fine. Then I go home and jerk off to a re-run of Friends and eat a bag of Doritos until I fall asleep. Just like everybody else.
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