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Opinion: In spite of it all

Vengeance is mine, probably

Published: Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Updated: Thursday, February 6, 2014 12:02


William Guerra

As the product of a good ol’ Southern Baptist hell-and-brimstone kind of upbringing, I internalized about three times the recommended dose of crippling guilt, shame and self-loathing. I don’t want to brag or anything, but I’m probably better at completely despising my entire being than anyone else in the whole wide world. This causes issues, obviously, because I end up using all this hate on myself and I barely have any left to direct toward other people. Jed and Cindy Smock’s campus visits mark particularly trying times in my life because they start yelling about fornication or fishmongers or something and students start yelling back and I just don’t have enough hate in my heart to join in on what appears to be a rollicking good time.

I am constantly impressed by the amount of active prejudice and hatred people can muster up. And then they just use it all willy-nilly, going about bad-mouthing people of different religions or cultures or economic classes. I’ve even seen some people hate these other people they’ve never even met before. What a time to be alive.

It truly is wildly admirable. I’ll never have that kind of strength. That is why I must carefully allocate my hate resources to ensure I’m using all my scorn in the most efficient way possible. I’ve actually drawn up a list of people I direct most of my contempt toward and decided to share it, just so anyone else suffering from low hostility levels can properly direct their hate as well.

Those who borrow writing utensils and never return them
Why do the people who borrow pencils always seem to be asking for them all the time? I gave you a pencil last week, and the week before that and the week before that. What could you possibly need all those pencils for? Unless you’re passing my pencils off to underprivileged squirrels or something, you need to stop taking them from me. For all I know, you might be making practice prison shanks out of those suckers and I refuse to fund violence.

People who pet my hair and end up violating me.
Yes, I know. I have long hair and it probably looks real soft. That by no means gives you permission to touch it. Because when you reach out to pet me, you usually run your hand just right on down my torso and I end up getting felt-up by a stranger for the third time that week. If you’re going to cop a feel, at least tell me your name, okay? It makes me feel dirty when you walk away knowing my cup size and hair softness and I don’t even know your last name.

People who respond to “I’m a psychology major” with “Stop reading my mind!”
When you tell people you’re a psychology major, they respond in one of two ways. If they’re related to you, they will tell you they are disappointed in your life choices. If they aren’t, they’ll usually scream something about how you need to stop it with your psychic abilities. Look, I’m not psychic. And if I were, yelling at me to stop reading your mind would not deter me. Please, just stop shouting at me. It’s not nice.

Whoever provides junior high children with cologne.
I understand kids. They smell bad. I went through that phase too and it’s not their fault. But whoever is giving them what, judging by these chemical burns in my nostrils appears to be buckets of cologne, needs to be punished — especially since they just dropped those kids off at an R-rated movie so they can sit directly in front of me to laugh at every instance of nudity. Whoever is dealing to these children seriously needs to stop.


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