>>> Primal Urges
By staff writer Nathan DeGraaf

December 12, 2007

Jamie: You know you pissed off Alan, Tom, and Steve yesterday?
What I do?
Does it really matter?
Not in the grand scheme of things, but I am a little curious.
You got drunk, you talked. It’s been the same story for five years.
Longer than that, babe. Longer than that.

I piss people off. I mean, a lot. For the most part, I’m never really sure who I’ve upset because I’m so damn awesome at pissing people off. Sometimes it’s entire rooms of people. Sometimes it’s close friends. I piss so many people off that I hardly even worry about it anymore. I just take for granted that on any given night, everybody in the bar hates me. You think I’m joking, but the truth is, I spend a lot of my life asking people if I recently pissed them off.

The answer’s pretty much always “yes.”

Sometimes, I can piss people off by asking them if I pissed them off. For example, one night I went into a bar I frequent and I wasn’t getting prompt service. This upset me mildly but my main concern centered around not the lack of service but the reason for the lack of service.

“Did I piss you off?” I asked the bartender.

“No,” she replied. “Why would you ask that? ‘Cause you had to wait three minutes for a drink? God, you’re impatient. That pisses me off.”

“The difference between us is that I could give two fucks what you think, and you’re offended.”

This, ladies and gentlemen, is my life.

Anyway, this New Year I have decided that I am going to try being less offensive—ahh, who the hell am I kidding?

I’ll never give a fuck if I offend people. And you want to know why? Because I don’t get easily offended. You could sit right next to me and go off for four hours saying rude things about me, my family and friends, and I still wouldn’t give a shit. And you want to know why? Because your opinion doesn’t matter because I am the fuck all and you are the fuck off. Quite frankly, it’s this line of thinking that prevents ulcers. And aneurisms. And giving a fuck in general (which is totally overrated).

I offend people when I make comments about their clothes. Why do they care what I think about their clothes? I don’t even like my own clothes. I have no fashion sense whatsoever, and yet I can offend you by pointing out that your hat makes you look like a tassel-toting penis? Really? That’s enough to bother you? If so, you need to mellow out. No one gives a shit. Least of all me. And I’m the asshole who made the comment in the first place.

I offend people by saying that I hate their hometowns. Again, I don’t see how this can bother anyone. Their hometown is never Tampa—where we inevitably are because that’s where I live—and if it was so goddamn great then neither one of us would have bailed on our hometowns and moved here in the first fucking place. So, when I tell you that Boston is filled with negative people and that it’s overpriced as fuck, you really can’t defend it. And you want to know why? ‘Cause you moved away. And you moved away, as I believe I have mentioned, because your hometown sucks. Which is all I’m saying.

And yes, I do think your taste of music, movies and women all suck, too. For the most part, you suck. But you know what? You think I suck. The difference between us here is that I could give two fucks about what you think, and you’re offended.

And the reason you’re offended is because you are a hypersensitive, whiny bitch with no self-confidence and a skin so thin I can see through it.

I guess what I’m saying here is, everyone needs to lighten the fuck up and realize that I’m an asshole and then move on.

Maybe I say the wrong thing and maybe what I say is not nice, but you don’t like me anyway so why do you care what I’ve said?

You can’t answer that can you, Douchebag?

Nope. You cannot. And still you’re pissed at me. And the reason you’re pissed at me is because you suck.

Or maybe it’s ‘cause I fucked your wife.

Either way dude, get the hell over it.