Tag Archives: rude

Daily Prompt: Truth or Dare

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Is it possible to be too honest, or is honesty always the best policy?

Sums it up quite well, don’t you think?

I think it’s very possible to be too honest, but the problem with honesty, is that some people don’t like hearing the truth. They’d much prefer that you just blow smoke up their arse instead, or inflate their ego, just to make them feel better about themselves, but it’s a lie.

Many people can’t handle the truth – THAT’S the truth. Some people don’t want to believe it. Some people want to completely ignore it. Some people just think that it’s too hard to deal with, and keep it in the ‘too hard’ basket of their lives.

At the same time, some people prefer to hear to truth, regardless of how upfront or uncomfortable it may be to hear. However, people who prefer to speak the truth; speak their minds, are seen as being a bitch / rude / blunt etc.

You know who’s generally blunt? The gays. And black people. Stereotypically they’re the ones who will tell it like it is, or tell it like it is to cut a bitch down to size. Except they call it ‘throwing shade’ if they want to be bitchy to others. Moreso if you’re name is Nene Leakes.

There’s certainly a very very fine line between being honest and being a bitch, and most of the time, that line is blurred / crossed and completely disregarded far too often.

I think that it’s great to be truthful and honest, but the truth can hurt people’s feelings, and the truth can also get you into trouble, and I think that the truth has it’s place in society and within the different relationships that you have with the different people in your life,

When a friend asks you if that dress makes her look fat? How many of you say yes? Or do you say something like ‘no, not at all, you look beautiful / terrific / fabulous etc’? If you were her, wouldn’t you prefer to know that that little strappy number makes you look a christmas ham, and you should get something more flattering before you wear it out in public looking ridiculous?

I think especially when it comes to clothing, people need to be more honest with their friends.

Far too often I can be walking down the street and see a multitude of people who certainly shouldn’t be wearing whatever they’re wearing because it’s not flattering for them whatsoever. But who am I to pass that judgement of complete strangers? It’s moreso that I feel a bit embarrassed for them because somebody, at some point, told them that they look good in those skin-tight leather leggings, whilst completely ignoring the giant muffin top protruding out the top like some kind of mega cellulite volcano.

However, on the flip side, they may feel really attractive wearing those leather leggings – good for you; they may think that it makes them look great – you clearly have no idea of what you actually look like, but either way, you don’t have honest people around you.

Generally, most people pretty much know how to dress for their figure, but unfortunately, there are are still those who have no fucking idea.

No, that skin tight lycra top doesn’t do anything for your man boobs.

No, those legs look like cottage cheese and shouldn’t be out on display.

No, nobody wants to see your camel toe. Girl, fix yo’self.

Girl, you shouldn’t be able to tuck your boobs into your belt. Try wearing a bra.

 

 

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/01/03/daily-prompt-truth/

 

Daily Prompt: Hear No Evil

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Tell us about a conversation you couldn’t help but overhear and wish you hadn’t.

If you’re like me, and you catch the People’s Chariot a.k.a. public transport, then you’re destined to be subjected to some pretty horrible conversations. Basically, these people:

y’know… THOSE people. The people who have no consideration for their surroundings or the people therein. The people who feel the need to talk loudly enough so a whole train carriage can hear their conversation. The people who also feel compelled to carry out conversations that nobody with the sense of hearing needs to hear. Ever.

I have myself some pretty awesome earphones. They drown out all the noise around me so all I hear is my music. It’s absolute BLISS. However, there have been countless times, I’ve been able to hear conversations over the top of my music. Which makes me feel incredibly sorry for everybody else who isn’t currently listening to music.

This one particular evening, I was on the train home from the city, and it was about 9:30pm. I had finished my second job and was met with some train delays due to track work.
*groan*
So I hang around waiting for the next train, which then takes us to another station, where we need to change trains in order to get back home. And then we’re faced with another delay
*groan*
The worst part was that the whole time we were waiting at the station, this moll was having one of the loudest conversations humanly possible. You know those times when you’re on a call to somebody and it starts to drop out, so you START TO TALK REALLY LOUDLY JUST TO MAKE SURE THAT THEY CAN STILL HEAR YOU?? WELL SHE WAS HAVING HER CONVERSATION PRETTY MUCH LIKE THIS THE WHOLE TIME. NATURALLY, AFTER THE FIRST TEN TO FIFTEEN SECONDS IT WOULD GET PRETTY ANNOYING, BUT SHE JUST WOULDN’T SHUT THE FUCK UP, AND THEN IT TOOK A TURN SOUTH…
After being asked by several people on the platform to basically either shut up, or move away from the rest of us, she wandered off to the very end of the platform. But then came back when the train turned up.
The trip to the station where we had to change trains was more or less:
…YEAH BUT THEN THAT FUCKING MOLL ASKED WHERE SHANE WAS AND SHE WAS GIVING ME THIS FUCKIN’ LOOK, RIGHT, AND SO I’VE TURNED TO HER AND I’M, LIKE, ‘OI, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOUSE LOOKIN’ AT, YA DIRTY CUNT?!’…. YEAH, OF COURSE I FUCKIN’ DID! …WELL WHO THE FUCK DOES SHE FUCKIN’ THINK SHE IS, FUCKIN’ FAT CUNT!! …NAH …NAH …OHHH YEAHHH, NAH. …NAH, I CAN’T STAND ‘ER. SHE’S A FUCKIN’ MOLL. NAH, LIKE, I TOLD HER NOT TO GO ROOTIN’ AROUND WITH DAZZA’S BRUVVA, SO OF COURSE SHE FUCKIN’ DID. OHHHH YEAHHH, YEAH, SO THEN DAZZA’S BRUVVA TELLS DAZZA, AND HE TELLS ME, AND I’M FUCKIN’ READY TO SNAP THE BITCH!! WELL, YEAH, COZ I WAS SHAGGIN’ DAZZA’S BRUVVA BEFORE I LEFT HIM FOR DAZZA!! NAH, HE’S GOT BETTER TATTS. …OH FUCK NO! …NAH HE’S GOT A MASSIVE KNOB …FUCKIN’ OATH!! YEAH, LIKE, IT NEARLY SPLIT MI CUNT IN HALF… NAH I WAS TOO SCARED …NAH, MADE HIM GROWL ME OUT TO GET ME WET. OHHH FUCKIN’ HOURS!!
…‘growl me out’. Wow. what a classy lady. She also happened to look something like this:
Did you know there's a place called Mullet Junky? Neither did I!! Now you do...

Pure class. All the way.

Quick show of hands those of you feeling a tad nauseous right now…?! Yeah, I thought so.

SO, this continued, and got more and more explicit as time began to drag on ever so slowly, and ever so painfully. Like fingernails on a chalkboard, it was driving people crazy. Some people were stopping their conversations to listen to it, and then having a little giggle. A couple of people whipped out their phones to record this sideshow. She, however, was completely oblivious to everything. I figure, the way her conversation rapidly turned south, her spare hand would have done so as well, to go foraging through some kind of damp forest for some bean-flicking fun… well, had it not been for the constant cigarette in her free hand.

I felt dirty just being near her.

Our second train finally turned up and we boarded the train. Rather than just being content with her seat, she managed to change seats at least six or seven times before we had even gotten to the next station. I was in the next carriage and could see all this happening, whilst something by P!NK was pumping through my earphones.

Suddenly, a ticket inspector appeared in front of me, and I looked up, and showed them my card, and they went to the next person across from me. I then pointed out ol’ crazy face in the next carriage, and then he, and another 5 of his backup bitches went to the next carriage. Although I couldn’t hear it, I saw a lot of them gesturing for her to calm down, before they had to start defending themselves from her wild and violent arm swings. They finally got her settled, and called for police, and escorted her off the train at the next station.

I still felt compelled to scrub the filth off my skin as soon as I got home.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/12/02/prompt-hear/