Gonna’ have a drink or two and talk about people I’m glad I’m not…because I’m getting older and getting on and I feel this more and more… and to be honest it is probably a good thing (even though so much enrages me) that I have come to the conclusion that it’s best to look these bastards in the eye and think I’m glad I’m not you!
So here we go…You! Men wearing cycle helmets, and all the lurid day-glo skin tight outfit and all the gear, and a water bottle and grim determination set on your face, you, who think its MY job to get out of YOUR way when you’re steaming along the narrow pavement, who refuse to slow down, or get off, who despite all the professional gear and gritty little face, won’t go on the fucking road even when you see me coming with my dogs and my kids..It’s up to us to move obviously! Twats! I’m glad I’m not you.
Women with dyed blonde hair and huge black sunglasses in cars with the roof down, ( don’t know what kinds of cars, because I don’t give a shit about your cars) you steam down the lane and hold a snobby nose and a frozen face and you give away no trace of a crack or a chink of a soul or a smile, it’s too much to even look people in the eye, in your manicured world where you are the only one who matters, and you think your car says something about you and you’re right! Its says; You’re a twat! And I’m glad I’m not you.
Men in business suits and ties with briefcases full of the nothingness they exist in, ramming their swish car up your arse, why? Why? Why are you always in such a hurry to get to work? Because you got to get there quick, to work, to work! In a hurry! In a hurry! To work! WORK! To sell another day, to whatever the fuck they do in offices all day long before they hurry, hurry back home again, back up your arse, using their car as an extension of them, angry and arrogant and wasting oxygen and skin! Twats! I’m so glad I’m not you.
People, with nothing to say, and nothing to talk about, except celebrity this and celebrity that, and you have to stare at them and listen to them and wonder dismally can’t you think of anything else? Don’t you care about anything else? Don’t you KNOW about anything else? Don’t you READ about anything else? Their passions are raised by eviction night on big brother! Their rage is directed at people the Daily Mail tell them to hate, but they can’t tell me why! Their love is aimed at celebs and their perfumes and the magazines that laugh at them when they fall! People, whose hopes and dreams consist of upgrading their phone and their house, because that’s what people do, people who are never quite satisfied unless they are buying something brand new, people who dress to impress, people who think hair and nails are important, people who think the government have their best interests at heart, people who believe anything they see and read on facebook is true, people who skirt the bad stuff, delete the truth, block the reality. Twats. I’m glad I’m not you.
People who march through life taking it seriously, but taking the WRONG things seriously, like money, and cars, and houses, and decor, and phones, and jobs and TV and mixing with people who are only like them, exactly like them, carbon copy, mirror images of them, because this makes them secure and makes them feel safe and reinforces their belief that pointless shit matters. People that are suspicious of anyone different, anyone not like them, anyone living life a different way, anyone who does not find these things important or serious. People who stand next to you at kids parties and talk about mortgages. People who sit next to you at barbeques and talk about what car they want to buy next. People who strut and stride and sway and swagger and think you are interested in all the things their tablet can do. People who send their kids to private schools. People who think their kids are somehow better than everyone elses. People who cannot see that ALL kids are little shits and yet capable of brilliance. People who baby and mollycoddle and overprotect, who distrust other kids and other families and other lives, because their way is the only way, the best way, the safe way. People who bath their kids every night. People who are scared of dogs and dirt. People in WH Smiths who won’t let their kid buy a pencil case because it has skulls on it. People who don’t know how to say please and thank you. People who do not know how to SMILE. Twats. I’m glad I’m not you.
People who want to be your friend, but you’re not sure why? People who only know how to have a conversation if it is all about them. People who are not interested in a single thing you say, do, think, feel or believe, because they only know how to digest the noises that come from their OWN mouth. People who look bored when you talk. People who interrupt when you are talking. People who always have to go one better. If you broke your toe, they broke their leg. If you’re feeling down, they’ve got full blown depression. People who can pass hours and hours talking and talking and talking yet never ever LISTENING. People who make the same mistakes again and again and yet don’t for a minute expect anyone in the universe to call them a twat. You’re a twat. And I’m glad I’m not you.
People who bathe and wallow and thrive on their own ignorance. People who breed puppies. People who swap animals for phones. People who don’t walk their dog enough and then moan when it wrecks the house or behaves badly. People who again and again expect sympathy from you, for their own stupidity. People who expect, who demand you feel sorry for them. People who want kids but don’t want to bring them up. People who want dogs but don’t want to change their lives for them. People who expect everything to go their way all of the time. People who think life is unfair. People who think they can pick what they want from a religion in order to feel satisfied they will get another life, another chance to be a twat all over again. People who cannot accept reality because it interferes with their arrogant belief that this is not the only life we get. People who think its ok to not follow a religion, but to believe in some kind of god and after life anyway…just in case! Your’re all twats and I am glad I am not you.
Pompous people. Smug people. People who talk over you. People who are totally self-absorbed and completely fail to see life through anothers eyes. People who think war is the answer. People who think immigrants should go back where they came from. People who think the homeless deserve it. People who think being born in a certain country allows them the right to be proud of that country. People who think they are always right. Capitalists. Bankers. Politicians and their psychopath eyes, soulless and emotionless, dead inside, superior by birth, inferior by intellect and empathy. People who think swearing is bad. People who judge you by your shoes or your hair. People who act differently depending on who they are with. People who don’t answer you when you say hello or good morning. People who never ask a single, solitary thing about you. People who are friendly one day, and then rude on another. People who abuse animals. People who abuse kids. People who had a shit childhood then go on to repeat one for their own kids. People who are completely unable and unwilling to see how utterly lucky they are, how fortunate compared to others. People who need a good slap in the face to wake them up. People who wallow and waste. People who live a life dying. People who grunt and groan. People who do not laugh. People who do not read books. People who do not listen to music. People without passion and integrity and curiosity and wonder. People who are old before their time. People who think you should grow up. People who don’t think your age is physical, and nothing more. People who stop having fun. People who won’t break the rules. People who never, ever reach out. Twats. You are twats.
I’m not much. I’m not perfect. I’m nothing and nowhere. There are many things I want to be. There are many things that I will never be. But thanks to these people, I have one thing going for me. I’m not like them. I am glad I’m not like them.