asile_de_fou: (Come get the voodoo)
( Aug. 25th, 2010 02:56 am)
The world is hovering in the strange time and place, known only as 2:30 AM. My dog is snoring and the parentals are sleeping... and I'm using a panda as a pillow. This must mean that strange ramblings are afoot.

I don't really get along with people. I have an uncanny ability to get on someone's bad side- even if they are a total stranger. Take when I worked at Blockbuster for example. I spent days and days just getting yelled at by people for no reason. People LOVE to stop me in grocery stores and other public places and tell me how I'm not dressed appropriately. Or even one time, when I was in Wal-Mart, an old man asked me if I had any tattoos and then went on to tell me how I shouldn't get any.

Yesterday, I walked into Sally's Beauty Supply to grab cuticle sticks. I could have walked out with them (and I nearly did) just because they refused to help me and decided that their time was better spent hanging out in the back room while I waited to be rung up. I ended up just leaving.

And everyone wonders why I don't like people.

I don't even dress that "outlandish," usually. I have a mohawk and I wear black. Whoopdidoo.

If someone unfriends me on LJ, I understand that I probably offended them. My journal entries usually aren't very nice- especially if I'm talking about people (which is most often). I've even been called racist just because I mentioned someone was black. People that read my LJ at least have some grounds to hate me. They disagree with my opinions, think I'm stuck up, think I'm a bitch- or I'm a whiny good for nothing poser- depending on the day.

I think it's okay for you to hate me if you read my LJ. However, I do not think it's okay for you to hate me just because I walked into your store and you looked at me.
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