Wag The Finger.

Insight:

Birds of a feather flock together, shit will always pile up on each other.
(Inspired by colleague, usually known as Robin.)

A haiku
You are a shit pile
I flush flush flush flush you down
Stinky poopy head

----------

Edit at 9.15a.m., 07.02.2006

In the midst of a very long rant at dear Em over email, I came to sudden realisation as to why I am pissed.

I am a nice person and do not deserve to be made to feel inadequate.

Don't give me pretentious niceties, all sugar and spice and diabetic.

You see, I have this theory. Lets assume that there's like.. perhaps.. 4 people (Random number, I assure you.)

Person 1 talks about 2 and 3 to 4.
Person 2 talks about 3 to 4.
Person 3 talks about 1 to 4.
Person 4 potentially gives out information that Person 1, 2 and 3 have said about each other to each other.

Logical thing to do to prevent that?

Person 1 tells Person 2 and 3 that Person 4 said something.
Person 2 does the same to Person 1 and 3.
Person 3 says something similiar (cause they're not very creative) to Person 1 and 2.
That leaves Person 4, who regurgitates information, the source of all information. Allegedly.

But pay no mind to that because the most important part of this theory is that:

Jezebel will burn in hell.
(credits to LC for the word!)

I am done pretending liking people I don't like.

(credits to Moobman for this bit of inspiration)

I have friends to whom I am doing a great disservice to when I associate with the likes of you.