It’s not that hard to say thank you, but screw it up, and you will be in deep shit.
I’m sure there’s a whole gang of half-witted humans angry at me right now for my frequent failures to say “thx“. (I really hate that lazy-ass shortcut for Thank You — where the fuck did the “x” come from anyway…). Read this blog for more than a minute, and you know I’m not showing a lot of gratitude. But this bullshit isn’t about my shortcomings — it’s about what you fuckers have done to me lately.
You know who is in deep shit with me right now — that giant pussy Tamal and his son, who I have never met and whose name escapes me. The kid is high school age. Tamal apparently read one of my email rants and decided he wanted my opinion on the kid’s writing. Tamal’s an engineer, and that explains why he asked me — engineers and English don’t mix, so he considers this kind of crap good writin’.
So I review the kid’s stuff — pretty good — give an explanation of what I think, and point him to one of my favorite books on English — The mother tongue and how it got that way — or some shit like that. Whatever it’s actual name, that book will rid you of the notion that English is supposed to make sense or that there is any such thing as grammar and rules. Good for a budding writer to know.
I filled a page and a half of text with my most sincere thoughts. It’s been a long time since I’ve been sincere, so it hurt a little bit. What did I hear back? Jack Shit.
A month later, I gently ask Tamal: “hey did you guys get my email?”
“Ohh that kid,” Tamal says. “I’ll have to kick his ass for not saying thanks.” Well Tamal must kick ass at home like he does on his mixed team. Because it’s been another month… nothing.
It’s too late now, Tamal. You and your prodigy have missed the gratitude train, and now you are both on the Shit list. (This is Tamal’s 2nd list for me – see Pussies I have known).
A couple of weeks ago I was reminded to be pissed at Tamal (I forget these things easily) after the Savage Bitches shower.
In any party aftermath, the Savage’s air grievances against anyone who left early (the balloons were the wrong size, the wine was opened too early, the instructions were shouted too loud…) I couldn’t listen to the whole list. It hurts my head to try and follow who should be pissed at whom. But then I heard the one that reminded me what a shit Tamal is: “I didn’t hear a lot of thank you’s. And if I did hear it, I didn’t think it was said right.”
Jesus, not only do you have to say thanks, but you have to say it in the right way at the right time or you’re a fucking ingrate. Goddamn Savages!
Wait, that pissy attitude is not exclusive to the Savages – everyone I know gets their knickers in a twist if the proper “thank you” gets glossed over, or misplaced or skipped. Apparently I’ve got a big knot right now right over my sphincter.
So say “thank you” once in a while (spell out the full fucking words too) or you will end up at the bottom of the shit pile with Tamal and his unnamed child…