Thursday, February 18, 2016

The Golden Turd award...

This week has been fraught with strange Facebook encounters.  It started with the dickhead who didn't like my Valentine's Day post and ended with my Italian friend, Vic, making disparaging comments about Americans in Germany.  I'm very used to Vic's comments, by the way.  He is an Italian who became a naturalized American citizen and apparently hasn't enjoyed being an American. So he takes potshots at Americans at every opportunity.  I don't mind, because I generally enjoy his comments and I know there is a kind person under the pithy barbs.  But that doesn't mean that he's not a turd sometimes.

The Valentine's Day disser is another story altogether.  I can remember only two Facebook encounters with that guy.  I have no idea what his problem is or why he has taken such a dislike to me.  I don't generally confront people who annoy me on Facebook.  I won't say I never do, but I rarely do.  I think it's mostly a waste of time and offers too much of an opportunity to be humiliated.  But as I've found out, others seem to enjoy confronting people on Facebook and picking on them.  I don't mind gentle teasing if I know the person doing it.  If it's a stranger, I don't know how I should take it.  More often that not, I take offense rather than think of it as gentle ribbing.

I think, from now on, when someone is shitty to me on Facebook, I'm just going to present them with The Golden Turd award.

Who wouldn't want this sitting on their mantle?

I did this to my friend Vic last night after his latest American bashing session.  He seemed amused by it and said he was going to list it on his C.V.   I suppose I could have also presented it to my Valentine's Day disser friend.  Maybe that would have been met with a more favorable response than my suggestion that he spent Valentine's Day masturbating by himself, which is why he had such a pissy attitude about my restaurant review.  

In reality, I have no idea what brought on the guy's comment.  Was he sitting there at his computer, noticing every time I posted a link to my travel blog?  Has he spent the past eighteen months seething when he saw my name?  Was he thinking to himself, "I hate that Overeducated Housewife bitch!  She's always going out to eat and forcing everyone in the Stuttgart community to read about it!  Fuck her!  I'll show her!"?  I have to admit, it's a little creepy to think that I could have that kind of visceral effect on someone just for linking my blogs.  Humans are complex creatures, though.   

Or maybe he's just an unhappy person who likes to pick on people he deems weaker than he is.  Did I give the impression of being a nice, sweet person who would take his abuse without a retort?  Somehow, I doubt it.  I don't think I come off as a particularly sweet person.  I don't think I'm a mean person, but I'm usually fairly quick witted.  I wasn't always that way.  It was a skill I had to learn because I have sisters who think on their feet.

Maybe he was "kidding"?  I might have taken it that way if I had a relationship with him.  But I remember all too well the hostile, uncalled for comment he lobbed at me in 2015.  My guess is that, for some reason, he doesn't like me.  As I have pointed out before, he's certainly not the only one.  A lot of people don't like me.  Even some of my family members seem to dislike me.  While I don't enjoy being disliked, it's something I can live with because I have to and because I can't control how other people feel.  

Still, maybe I went too far when I suggested that my critic was jerking off by his lonesome on Valentine's Day.  That was a rather rude comment.  On the other hand, he started it by being nasty to me for no apparent reason.  Would the end result have been the same if I had just posted a picture of the Golden Turd award?  Who knows...

Maybe instead of the Golden Turd Award, I could post this video.

I used to have one of these Mattel Silly Talk dolls.  They were made in 1971, which makes me think that it was probably originally my sister Sarah's toy.  I hated the goddamn thing.  I think, when I was a teenager, I finally took a hammer to it and busted it into many pieces.  That was a very satisfying activity for me.

Of course, now I see that the Talk Up dolls are worth some money.  They were only produced for a year because they didn't sell very well.  Given how annoying I found the one I inherited, I can see why they didn't sell.  Mine was in surprisingly good condition until I obliterated it.  I probably could have sold it for $100 on eBay.  On the other hand, I think hammering the shit out of it may have been worth more than $100.  Given my hostile feelings toward the Talk Up doll, posting the video would be meaningful... at least to me.

Anyway... I was hoping this week would be better than last week.  In some ways, it has been.  Bill has been home and, aside from a little nasal congestion and a chapped nose, I'm mostly over my cold.  But the weather is still depressing and Zane's paws are still raw and tender, meaning he's not quite up to taking a walk.  I should get dressed and go do something fun, but I feel like I shouldn't leave the dogs.  And I also hate driving...  and getting dressed.

Hmmm... maybe I should present the Golden Turd award to myself?

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