A Salute to the Real

This one goes out to the realists.  If someone gave me a "Life is good" shirt, I would never wear it outside.  Assuming it fit, and it was comfy, I would only wear it indoors, because I wouldn't want anyone to assume that I supported such an asinine notion.  The fact that I've seen so many of these "Life Is Good" shirts just goes to show how many fake and phony people are out there.  If you want to know what isn't "good" about life, watch the news, or just read more of this blog.  I don't sugarcoat shit.  By the way, when I was writing "Life is good," I accidentally wrote "Lie" instead of "Life."  How appropriate.  "Lie is good," because "Life is good" is a lie.  To be fake and phony is to be worthless.  Fake laughing at someone's joke is weak and cowardly.  That being said, I have done it, but mostly at work.  A customer tries to be funny, fails, and I laugh a little anyway, because it would be uncomfortable not to, and/or I don't want him or her to try to get me into trouble at work.  Although that would be a typically ridiculous thing to get into trouble at work about: not laughing at a pathetic attempt to be funny.  Although, a customer's total came up, and it was $4.30.  He said, "Sounds like quitting time!"  And he laughed at his (can you really call that a) joke.  I couldn't bring myself to laugh, and he had the fucking nerve to criticize me!  Not in a major way, he wasn't mean; he didn't yell, but he mildly criticized me for not laughing at that weak-ass shit!  He should take that act on the road: to comedy clubs everywhere.  He should get up on stage, and ask the audience to yell out 3-digit numbers.  "715!"  "715?  That sounds like quitting time!"
I had a job where I repeatedly failed to laugh at my coworkers attempts to be funny, and they disliked me as a result.  Don't play our little game, don't fake laugh at our little jokes, and we will hate you for it.
Which brings me to the realest tweet I ever saw; "People are loved for being fake and hated for being real." 

Words

Words are all you have.  The only way in which you make sacrifices are with the words you use.  You have criticized me, plenty of times, for things I have said.  You are a politically correct pussy in that regard.  But you're not consistent.  You utilize a double standard that favors you every time.  One day, you'll yell at me for something I said.  The next, you'll say something that's essentially the same thing, but you said it, and that makes it okay, because you, according to you, are perfect.
It got to the point where, when you would criticize me for something I said, I'd remind you that I haven't spent any money on meat, milk, or eggs since 2002.  I refuse to support the ultra-cruel meat industry, the slaughterhouse.  "That has nothing to do with it," you'd respond.  Oh, but it does.  You say that because you eat meat.  You care much more about yourself than the animals you're eating.  When you buy meat, you're paying people to keep animals in concentration-camp-like conditions.  You're paying them to kill the animals too.  That is much, much, much, much, much worse than anything I can say.  What would you rather deal with?  Someone saying something that you don't like or being put into a concentration camp to suffer until you're murdered?
Then there's another one of my major issues: procreation.  I've never brought someone into this wicked world, but you have.  You have a beautiful young daughter.  You have put photos of her, wearing yoga pants, on Facebook.  Did it ever occur to you that perverts might be drooling over those pictures?  Did it ever occur to you that some of them might stalk her?  I don't care if that's what everybody else is doing; I think it's incredibly stupid.  Now she's off to college.  Have you ever seen the documentary The Hunting Ground?  It's about the huge problem of rape on college campuses.  Have you told her about the date-rape drug, Rohypnol?  She should know about these things. 
I haven't eaten exactly what I want to since 2002.  I've never experienced the joy of holding my own child, because I refuse to bring anyone into this incredibly violent world of pain, misery, and death.  The only sacrifices you make involve not saying certain words.  That's nothing.