Raarrrrr

April 27, 2007 at 3:53 pm | Posted in arseholes, blind rage, incredible hulk-like temper tantrums. raarrrrr | 9 Comments

Have you ever been forced to talk to someone so unreasonable, irritating and unwilling to listen to anyone’s views but their own that you’ve had to clench your fists and squeeze them until your whole upper body is shaking with rage and you’ve pressed little fingernail half-moons into your palms, and you are convinced that if this cunt does not shut the fuck up in the next ten seconds you are going to plant your fist right in his fat fucking jowly face?

The worst bit is, you have to walk away. How satisfying it would be to – just once – deck someone for being an annoying twat. Forget the real-life implications about getting fired and pressing charges and criminal records and all that horseshit – that incandescent flash of anger when you feel your knuckle bruise bone would override all of those worries and I bet in that moment you would feel absolutely fantastic.

Not that I’d ever do anything like that.

Anyway, I’m off to get pissed and be happy and forget about that sort of thing. Have a merry weekend, as Eolaí might say.

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9 Comments »

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  1. May the force of a small garden greenhouse with electric lighting and ear mufflers be with you on your voyage

  2. You haven’t done that yet?

    You haven’t lived until you’ve executed a haymaker into some smug bastard’s face because he stole the woman you were chatting up …

  3. I’ve only done it with small goats

  4. Wait, yes. I know you. You’re the goat obsessor from Twenty Major’s page.
    I was referring to Kav anyway, but you must have serious problems if a goat stole the lassie that you were chatting up …

  5. I hate that feeling. My talent for schmoozing allows me to say perfectly bitchy things to people without them having any idea that I’m insulting them. It makes me feel better. But not as much as socking it to ’em would.

  6. “Have you ever been forced to talk to someone so unreasonable….”

    Every hour of every working day. Pishing in their soup is great relief though…

  7. Unless I’ve got Billy One Ear with me then I just bide me time and get them in the long grass.

    Or I just send Billy over to their house later on.

  8. Ah yes….the ever satisfying crunch and pop of a solid right jab spreading some lippy perp’s nose across his puss is one of the better perks of my job.
    Closely followed by the oddly hollow “Thonk”of a Wood Shampoo.

    I keed of course.

  9. What did I say?


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