Random Ramblings

Procrastinating the Inevitable...

You mean that I'm not the only one who can read words and put together syllables?

By thePatrick

Generally, I don't have a problem with most people. Even given mankind's natural knack for being slightly mentally incompetent, or the tendency to be merely hairless yard apes, I think I have fairly decent people skills, and can get along with almost anyone. However, there is one type of person that drives me absolutely crazy. Were I alone with them, and there were no moral, ethical, or theological consequences, I can't promise that they would make it out alive, let alone all in one piece. I am referring to the genetic accidents that feel the urge to read everything out loud.

A point of clarity. I am not talking about little children who are first learning to read. Practice makes perfect. When first starting out, I'm all for reading as much as you can. By all means, read to me every single billboard that we pass driving down the interstate. Layton Hills Mall now has a Cinnabon? Heck, we can pull over when we pass by to sample their wares. The sooner you can read for yourself, the sooner I can get you hooked on some Nietzsche or Kierkegaard, or even some Kant.

However, once you have passed, oh let's say, the age of 10, you no longer need to read everything out loud. I don't care that Cheez-its are made with real cheddar cheese. I really don't care that it says so six different times on the same box. You don't have to keep turning the stupid box and reminding me. I got you the first time. And I didn't care then, either. And who knew that the white board markers that you are using were made in Sheboygan, Wisconsin. Well, I did, after you read it to me. And I'm willing to bet that, since they all came in the same package, they all were made in the same place. I'll thank you very kindly not to check each one and read them all to me.

I get it. Huuked on Fonix werked fer yue. You're a genius. Just spare me and the rest of the world from your ignorance. Some village somewhere is missing their idiot, and I you read your way back home, I'm sure they would be happy to see you again.


this sounds like something you might have written after work, or the next morning of a bad shift...or something.

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