Pissing People Off

I'm not a nasty person. But I've always had a nack at pissing people off. By accident. I'm not rude either, but I tend to make people think that sometimes. It's the gift nobody wants. Like a cartoon tie at Christmas.

I like to swear a lot and pretend to be a bastard. I say 'bastard' a lot. And when I write to my Buddhist friend living in Mexico I often call him 'motherfucker'. In a nice way of course. He gets this. It's a way of counter balancing my natural charm and good nature. Let the fuckers think that. No bastard will get an easy read on me.

Anyway, certain people piss me off. Bastards. I talked about one of them tonight which prompted some unplanned 'motherfuckers' and other bad words, and thoughts of running at them with a chair. I don't like being angry as this used to mean internalising vitriol and venom with ugly results. These days I find it best to let it out.

I think that's why I wrote the note about bad service here. A childish urge to make the world right when everything you see seems broken. Fuck them. Things should be better. I'll keep writing notes.

I went through a phase of writing letters to people and organisations that pissed me off. Random letters, no pattern, to people like London Buses and the local MP, all the way to the commissioner of Major League Baseball (reply received, stunning stationery). I've calmed down since then, but I still have the letters.

So yes, I piss people off and get myself in trouble. I still remember 13 baseball players from Essex demanding the correct spelling of my name (which I gave them, on a piece of paper actually), for an official complaint they wanted to make against me. No need for good trainers when burley blokes, who haven't eaten all afternoon, are heading your way.

I'll try to calm down. No. I am calm. But there are a lot of shit heads out there. The wankers need to be stopped.