Dear Nads,
Welcome to ****ing California. You know how many times someone has bumped my mirror at a stoplight? You know how many times they stopped? Hell, I had one motorcyclist flip me off when he KNEW he had hit my mirror, because I tooted my horn at him. But did I go into a fit of rage and post about it on a website, and oh, did I mention how God-like and just totally ****ing awesome I am and how much shit I know that you poor dumb schlubs don't, neener neener neener?
Yeah, that's how you come across, nads. Just like a condescending ass. Problem is, what you THINK you know isn't one-hundreth, shit, one-MILLIONTH, of what you actually do know.
You are not the person in the Dos Equis commercial. No, this is who you are, nads:
--You are the designated driver for parties you don't attend.
--Your therapist naps during your sessions.
--Paint hates watching you dry.
--You bought the super-expanded cable package, so you could watch Olbermann and infomercials.
--Even your husband can't tell when you've been drinking because your lack of a personality can never be altered.
--Your favorite joke has no punchline. Hell, it's not even SUPPOSED to be funny.
--Aliens don't even want to probe you.
You are--THE MOST UNINTERESTING PERSON IN THE WORLD. And deep down, you know it, which is why you struggle mightily to overcompensate.