Tuesday, February 10, 2009

A Letter For Your Sad Sack

I occasionally get correspondence from men who graze in my blog.
Some of these guys are intelligent and insightful, some are average and insightful.
Some are kinda dumb. Some are kinda sexy. Others are just sad and sad-sack-ie. This post is dedicated to them.

It is in my best interest as a blogger, and as a good person to be kind and benevolent to those who take the time to read and comment. Exchanging emails and situations is de rigueur.
However, there comes a point that certain folks will go over the line and do a full-on dump of their particular difficult situation. You can see it the moment you open the email. Ranting, incomplete sentences, ellipses, “she said this, she did that, then she did differently than what she first said”… you see a lot of “she’s” peppering the page. This is a May Day situation. This is never appropriate stuff to share with strangers during what should be a light email exchange. I mean, even if we’re not trying to get laid, aren’t we still trying to be engaging? There is a reason people pay good money for others to listen to people’s problems - because it’s painfully boring. And so, when I politely, kindly try to explain this in carefully chosen words, I am more often than not met with personal attacks. I’m told that I am surface, cold, trite, and soulless. And that’s the turning point when you leave me no other choice but to call you what you are: a Big Weiner. Look it up, it’s been documented as a personality type. It’s a whiner that chooses to stay in the whiner state. So much so, that you eclipse the whiner state, and become a full on Big Wiener. It’s a whiner/victim hybrid.

I will tell you that you are angry and self-pitying and stuck in your mire, and that it’s not sexy to me, or any woman, man, or recruiter. And, yeah, I feel a little bit bad about it, I try to keep the beotch down in the hole, but she’s doing us both a great service. I will not have to listen to any more whining. And if you listen, you will possibly become unstuck and claim some happiness for yourself. Because whining begets only one thing: more whining. Here’s a little self-help catchphrase I just coined, sitting here typing: no whining is winning. And what do you win? Why, more self-awareness, self-responsibility. Improved self-esteem. A better sense of control. That begets other stuff you can win, like a nice woman, a better boss, more sex, and a more satisfying life, which you can brag about, instead of whining about.

You might even want to thank me one day, so careful before you delete my final email. Beotches can be tough to take, but they’re usually right.

Do I have it all altogether? No way. Do I have personal problems? Sure!! But that’s why they call it personal. What if I wrote 12 pages of unfunny, self-pitying stuff with a sad clown as the visual, or a lonely kitty in a basket. Would you still be reading? The beotch lured you here. The beotch will send you back from whence you came, if you come from a little town called “Weinerville”.


  1. That poor little clown is in the gutter

  2. He is available for adoption at your local Bide-a-wee.

  3. Isn't this post "unfunny, self-pitying stuff with a sad clown as the visual"?

  4. Ooo. Sad sack revenge.