Thursday, July 19, 2012

Speaking about things you don't know or hey, dude, tell me more about my uterus

There's one in every crowd.  The fountain of knowledge, the expert on all topics, the guy who knows everything.  Definitely a follow-up to my original blog "Your expert opinion or been there done that BEFORE you"... I just feel compelled to continue that thought. I suppose I should say thank you to those who fit the bill.  You do give me hours of entertainment and pages of blog to cover. Possibly the most entertaining part about this dude, is you cannot argue with him. He has research, news articles, TV shows, and just plain genius on his side.  That is exactly what he will tell you.  And you will attempt to counter his every point. I understand the desire to do that. You think it will shut him the fuck up.  Sorry, that's been proven false.  All it will serve to do is keep him going and going, like some kind of psychotic, rambling Energizer bunny on crack. You will develop a raging migraine and he will experience that same satisfaction he always attains when he thinks he's won yet another debate.
Sometimes you just can't argue because it may be a topic you know nothing about. Then, of course, you run the risk of repeating what he's said to someone else.  Usually, that someone else will be the person who not only does know a little something about the topic, but has studied it extensively and likely works in that particular field.  Now you are the asshole, spouting ridiculous bullshit and making a complete and utter fool of yourself. This is why you can never, ever believe Mr. Know-it-all.  Even if it's something as basic as the weather report. Grab your smart phone and double-check his ass before you text your friend about heading to the beach. Looking stupid is not an option...for you.  For him, it's a way of life.
We all enjoy feeling smart. I do. We all like to be right.  I definitely do. He turns it into a goddamn career. You are from NY, he can tell you all about what living there is like.  He's visited once.  He will tell you which neighborhoods are safer, which restaurants are the best, and how to deal with the natives.  But you ARE a native!  Does that matter to him? Hell NO!  He knows more than you.  He watched a news special all about it, and can quote directly from it for you, if you'd like. No matter what you say, regardless of how factual it is because, that's right, you lived there for 25 years, he can refute it.  God bless his small, ineffectual little mind.
Did you go to a Catholic school?  He can tell you all about that experience.  No, he didn't attend one, he graduated from a public school.  That doesn't stop him from expounding on the virtues of being taught by nuns and how lovely that is for a child in their formative years.  REALLY!?!?  Those of us who lived that nightmare can call bullshit on that one...after we open our eyes and stop cringing from the horrific memory burned into our brains of the "lovely" treatment we enjoyed in Catholic school.  He will disagree, stating that these are women of God, and he will in all likelihood be able to rattle off the vows that the novitiates make when becoming a nun. The fact that he knows the word novitiate will throw you for a moment, causing you question if you actually lived that terror-filled scholastic history or if he actually may be telling the truth.  Snap out of it, ass monkey! You attended Catholic schools your whole young, academic career.  You were smacked with a ruler on your ass more times than you care to remember.  You practiced duck and cover on a daily basis to avoid the blackboard eraser missiles launched across the classroom. Yet, he'll still argue his point. And your cranium will throb, yet again.
Let's consider the fact that his wife is female and has given birth at least once. Thus, making him an expert on all things gynecological.  You didn't know that?  Don't worry, he'll tell you all about it. Cramps? He knows exactly how you feel. Just walk it off.  Oh ok, so when I take a pair of BBQ tongs, reach deep into your gut and twist as hard as I can, feel free to walk it off.  Childbirth? Pshhh, he's got that one in the bag.  It's not all that bad, and hell, women have been doing it since the dawn of time, out in the fields...piece of cake. Indeed, it certainly is a piece of cake, my friend.  When you pass a nine pound eggplant out of your ass, we'll compare notes.  And, by the way, why don't I have another?  Hmm, let's see...I'm done?  Oh, but you're so young.  Wrong again, buddy.  See my blog about being your child's grandparent. But wait, you have the research and notes detailing the number of women having children well into their fifties!  Excellent!  I'm all over that like white on rice.  Nothing I want more than to use my old ass eggs to produce a child who won't be able to refer to me as Grandma to their children. I'll pass, but thanks for doing the legwork FOR me.
I could go on and on about this guy...he irritates me on so many levels. I'll just wait for the next time we get to chat, and he is trying to sell me on his expertise on some fucking topic...and attempt to sell he will...and I'm going to be at the end of my rope that day, having dealt with ass clowns, fucktards, and dimwits...and I will have to ask him, "Are you friggin kidding me right now???"



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