Stop Stepping on my Dick

As much as I hate to accept it, I find that Wall Street Playboys writings about loser mentality and picking friends are spot fucking on.  Although I have work to do in the seven steps of advancement, I possess qualities that I look for and admire in my friends.  No one is ever perfect, and if every day is a hunky-dory agreement fest, one is probably not pushing the limits.  I’m a regular offender of regular people.  I say things that are uncomfortable to digest.  Truths get pointed out when needed.  It is not agreeable but truth is hard to circumvent without copious amounts of denial.

Those with thin skin, who act out aggressively to some humored jiving, really grind my gears.  They grind them to the point where I actually act out in response.  Of course, not so directly as to go into calling names, but to the point where I end up calling someone out in a not so gentle manner in an non ideal environment.  Do you see the hypocrisy there?  I react in the same sorry manner to the actions that anger me.  Obviously my skin is not as thick as I thought it.  I let insults, anger, haters, loser, roll off my back like water, but sometimes it comes from someone I respect and that’s where it gets complicated.

So what can I do?  Again we’re back into territory that the WSP covered in their post “Nobody Cares About You.”  If I were to truly embrace this ideology in an uninhibited manner, then the issue of thick skin would not matter.  Those carelessly, often, without any forethought, thrown insults, backhanded bullshit, would not get a rise out of me in any matter.  They could be laughed off, ignored or forgotten.  Their meaning and place in my life is none.  My thoughts should be clean of them.

But that’s not the case.  I don’t like people stepping on my dick.  That’s where emasculation begins right?  When going about the ritual of modern courtship and a salty lass throws a ‘shit test’, isn’t that her way of stepping on my dick?

“I see you have that, but I don’t want to acknowledge it out right.  In fact, I’m going to see if it’s just a stain I can smudge into this carpet.”

Replace “it’s”, with “you’re”, in the above sentence and there’s the whole litter in one bag.

Should a requisite of a penile “tackle box” be attached to the whole dance?  Probably not, it is good to challenge, you know, because that’s what people do to over come oppression.

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