How come it was always the supposed hard-men, the badasses, who wore earrings?
I used to have trouble with this, great trouble...If you know me, you probably know that I tend to view the world slightly differently from what is considered normal. I also tend not to give a toss about falling into role or line as expected hence...I'm not autistic or anything, let's just clear that up now. I just have a healthy grasp of observing things and not bothering to get involved with things that don't interest me. Anyway, I used to have great trouble with the badasses wearing earrings.
They'd decide that it was my turn for a spot of attention, and I'd sort of look at them with a puzzled expression and cut them off halfway through their bluster with something like...
"But you're wearing earrings? My mum wears earrings...As does my gran...my aunties...You're attempting to threaten me whilst cross-dressing? Get stuffed."
Naturally they didn't get it and thought my reasoned observation was a request to have my head kicked in. That one was always phrased as a question.
"Do you want your head kicking in?".........
"Hmmm...let me think about that one...Wait one...Just chewing it over...Tip of my tongue...Phone a friend....No!"
Thing is, if they phrased it as a statement e.g.
"We're going to kick your head in!"
I would still be annoyed by the fact that somebody who walks like they have polio, or a startled cat...And wears a pathetic earring...Could assume they have the right to attack my person.
Since my reaction to their threats was one of casual, mocking, disinterest, I guess that it helped to have an older brother, and it probably also helped that I tended to become a psychopath if pushed when I was younger...Yeah I'm not autistic, but you should see my lampshades, real human skin. That or my logic caused the fuses to blow in their poor excuses for brains, and lead to them being unable to process the information required for them to actually harm me.
Always amused me that every gang of hard-men has their tiny mini badass. The little smug weedy shit, who for some reason the bigger ones look after. Thing is, these bitch-asses are like bait in the trap. You'd be in the supermarket and this little tosser toerag starts getting in your face, so you mock and or push past him...Then the polio kids all surround you and start showing you how wide they can stretch their arms and necks.
David Cameron, hug a hoody, remember that? He was nearly there...If only he'd said "tear the skin from hoodies in the town centre every Saturday morning, and then hurl their still beating hearts into a fire," I might have voted for the prick. As it was, Since no political party has promised this course of action in their manifesto, you and I will continue to have to deal with these tin earring wearing arses for the rest of our lives.
Although, since none of us will have a pension by the time we're in our 80s, I've decided I'll probably stab a thug to death and get free board and lodging off the taxpayer.