I would have done it like this...did I ask for your fucking advice?

Are you fully capable of living and breathing without help?  Thought so.  I am, too, yet there's always someone who can show me a better way. Maybe I look helpless, maybe I look full-on fucktarded?  I'll never know because I don't care enough to ask.  I'm starting to think I must look a little vacuous considering the amount of "assistance" I've been getting lately.  Nobody knows better than I that I am getting older.  Being forgetful and needing to write everything down so I don't neglect the basics has become a way of life for me. Hunting the parking lot for my car, trying to recall a short grocery list, and running back upstairs because I forgot my phone, AGAIN, are all a part of me and I accept that. What I cannot accept, what sticks in my craw, what pisses me off beyond belief...is when other people jump on the bandwagon to help.
Help is a lovely term that I am using very loosely mostly because I don't truly believe the intentions are noble. Sometimes I feel like a running joke.  Guess what?  I'm still smarter than all of you and I am well-aware of my shortcomings, fuck you very much. So many experts, so little time.  Must be nice to feel so superior to a woman going through the beginnings of menopause, chuckling at the fuzzy thinking, giggling at the temporary memory loss. Trust me, I've got more to point and laugh at when it comes to you and your basic ineptitude than you'll ever enjoy at my expense. Acting like you give a shit just so you can come to my rescue and mock me later, makes you a giant fuckwad.

There's also the basic and equally annoying unsolicited advice about general topics that occurs when you are having a conversation with one person, and another buffoons by while listening in to what doesn't concern them.  Those are my particular favorites.  The nosy bastards who think every freaking thing needs their special touch. Allow me to clarify, if I didn't say your name or invite you into the conversation, I don't give a ripe fuck what you think, know, believe, or can contribute to my state of well-being. I save my grousing for a very specific and elite group of people.  Chosen carefully, they are the ones I go to with the really important stuff.  There's a degree of trust that has been earned and a mutual respect we share. This doesn't include YOU, dingleberry.
There are times I just feel like venting about a certain topic and am not really looking for an answer.  Most women will totally understand this.  We don't seek out solutions so much as want to have a good rant and be validated by a good friend who gets us. I am fully and completely this way.  I hardly ever seek out an answer to my problem, issue, gripe of the day.  A few reasons that is, the first being the main one, I usually already know what I am going to do about it.  Beyond that, I don't really feel that anyone else not having been in my shoes knows exactly what I need to feel better, so why bother asking? You aren't me, you haven't lived my dysfunctional life, you haven't the foggiest clue how something actually makes me feel...what the fuck can you possibly say to fix it?  Nothing, so just listen and agree with me.

The opposite is true if you see me having a genuinely hard time.  If I am struggling to lift something heavy, lend a fucking hand, don't stare like a jackass. When you see me drop something and my hands are clearly and quite evidently full, pick it up for me.  Watching me shuffle shit from one hand to my armpit or wedging the item between my teeth only makes me hate you more.  Yeah, hate.  I am easily frustrated and being left swinging in the breeze while you gawk at me like you are watching a slapstick comedy makes me want to rip your kidneys out and feed them to you. Don't make me go all Silence of the Lambs on you.  I'll claim temporary insanity due to the wildly vacillating hormones of menopause.
The same applies for when I obviously look upset and you ignore the visual and launch into what is bugging you.  What the fuck happened to your brain at birth?  Were you ripped out forcibly by the head and flung at a nearby wall? Or are you so self-absorbed you can't recognize the non-verbal cues of another human being?  Maybe you just don't give a bloody shit?  I'll never know, but what I do know is you suck dirty donkey balls and don't deserve to breathe my oxygen. I'm pretty good at hiding emotions, generally.  So when you can see how I feel painted in technicolor across my face, I'm really fucking upset. Don't ignore it, don't avoid it, don't tap dance around it.  Better you should ask me right away than wait for me to explode like Hiro-fucking-shima. Because I will, all over your dumb ass.
I'd like to think of this particular post as a lesson in common sense.  Don't foist your opinion on someone who doesn't want it. I am that person and you don't want to piss me off. Don't give unsolicited and completely ridiculously obtuse advice. I won't hesitate to inform you of your fucktardedness. On the flip side of this coin, don't stand there like a dickweed and watch someone struggle.  Lend a helping hand, you useless bag of flesh. Pretend I'm your mother, would you watch her floundering with heavy bags?  Probably not, asswipe. And for the love of all things holy, when someone is blatantly upset, don't ignore it. You WILL be the target of their anger if you do.  If it's me, you will feel my wrath and you will have deserved it.  Don't try to justify it, don't try to talk your way around it.  Act like a compassionate fucking human being or get the hell out of my way. Are you friggin kidding me right now???