In general why should I give a fucking damn about what Joe Blow thinks of me, my body, my appearance, who I am as a person? The only fucking person I need to please is me. Why should I go out of my way to fucking impress someone I don’t even know or even pretend to like them in order to be accepted? Fuck that bullshit. If you don’t like me for who I am then fuck you asshole. —Getting some balls about myself

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20 Comments

  1. Single and looking and not having much luck, more like it, zZz.

    No one asked you to be “someone else,” OP, and generally “Joe Blow” doesn’t really give a shit who you are, sadly.

    People don’t REALLY care that much about strangers or even people they kinda know in the grand scheme of things.

  2. You’re the one who cares about what people think…or you wouldn’t be writing this bitch. Your just pissed because whomever you “like” doesn’t like you back because they are looking for something different then what your selling sweetie. When you meet the right person they will love you for you. Or just do what half the other women and men do and pretend to be something you’re not to “get the guy or girl” and then after a long time of commitment go back to being the real you. #1 reason for divorce! People are posers and fake.

  3. Just to add here, OP: not everyone’s going to like you and it doesn’t mean they’re assholes for not doing so. Some personalities don’t mesh well with others. That’s life.

  4. Hey, OB, when you get older, personality will be all you’ll have unless you have outstanding genetics. Be true to yourself, try not to hurt anyone and live and let live.

  5. way to go o.p., excepting the balls part, if you is a lady type female. other than that,fuck what people think, only you count there.

  6. Sometimes I meet people to whom I really want to say this:

    If 1 out of 100 people dislikes you, there is something wrong with that 1 person. But if 99 out of 100 people dislike you, there is something wrong with YOU.

    Well, which case is it now?

  7. Yeah you tell ’em! I hate having friends and a significant other too. Crying alone in my room, in the bath, in the kitchen, and sometimes even in the elevator makes me a stronger person.

  8. I am proud of my body. It cost me a lot of money buying plenty of food to sculpt this voluptuous masterpiece……

  9. Occasionally I’ll give my cats a bit of milk… in a saucer. Well, its actually a Campbell’s soup half bowl/half mug. Then guess what< the adopted one drinks the shit out of his amazingly fast, then he tries to get the fat ones milk. Its bullshit and I shouldn't have to police two cats drinking milk. I mean, seriously, I have things to do every day.

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