Hey, Hoff, You’re SO Much More of An Asshole In Real Life Than On Your Blog…
I am, admittedly, bipolar and schizophrenic. Armed with a lack of patience, a fondness for bourbon and an expense account, I can go from hero to zero in the time it takes to read one of my mini-opus blog posts.
It takes me about 5-10 minutes to write one of my blog posts and it shows. A lot of my thoughts are just that — thoughts. Sometimes they’re not complete. That’s actually your job. Point ‘em out and make us both think, but be prepared for passionate debate.
That said, I get asked all the time why I didn’t turn it up to 11 and rip someone a new one on my blog when they post marketing drivel or why I didn’t squirt a product with lighter fluid and set it ablaze instead of taking the less flammable road.
You see, my blog represents the kinder, gentler version of me (scary, I know.) It’s me, getting in touch with my feminine side.
So I find it genuinely amusing when people are surprised that I am *more* of an asshole in real life than I am on my blog. I feel that’s better than the other way around, honestly.
I find it deliciously ironic that I seem to represent the minority in this characterization, so let me explain why it is that I’ve decided to be more restrained than I used to be:
- I’m getting older. Maybe it’s a lack of fiber or almost 15 years of marriage, but somethings I just let roll off my shoulders these days. It could be that training 4-5 times a week in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu lets me deal with all the bottled-up rage that a rear-naked choke, armbar or cross-collar choke seems to take care of. Some people have Calgon to take them away, but for me, I’ve got nothing to prove besides the fact that I’m not afraid to say that I have nothing to prove.
- You people are smart. If I ask very specific questions and raise issues to which people respond like programmed spokesholes from the planet Marketron, you’ll see right through them and arrive at the same point as you would were I to lead you down the path.
- It’s a small freaking world. I don’t want some dude I piss off now to run over my dogma with his Karma later. It takes a ton to really get me going, and bad things will occur when you do. One of my first blogging turrets adventures ended up getting someone fired, and as hysterical as that is, unless what someone says is personally offensive, criminal or steps on the rights of others, I’ll poke a little and that person will look like an assclown all by themselves.
- Context is everything, permanence is scary. It’s impossible to have a conversation via blogs. Comment pong sucks donkey and more often than not, sentences get picked apart due to use of passive voice and arguments ensue debating the trees for the forest. And it stays around forever. If I have beef with someone regarding something, I’ll email them or *gasp* talk to them. I don’t want some printout from the wayback machine being entered into evidence as People’s Exhibit #3.
- I’ve got 3 kids. Besides having to act as moral compass, my three girls eat like piranha, need to learn how to be good humans, and require daily sacrifices at the Webkinz/Hannah Montana/Jonas Brothers altar. That shit is expensive on all fronts. I need a paycheck. Yes, I’m a sellout to the man, er, woman. You don’t seem to mind when I expense dinner and drinks though, huh?
- It’s best to pick your battles. When something stinks, I tell you. When I believe or don’t believe in something, I say it. I just don’t need to pour gas on a fire for effect. Sometimes, it’s just not worth the time, effort or exposure. See #7.
- I’ve got better shit to do. ’nuff said.
I do hope that opening the kimono and revealing my humanity doesn’t alarm anyone. Rest assured, however, that in person I really am a huge asshole. I don’t have a lot of friends and that’s the way I like it. I’m rarely wrong and given that fact, I’m loud, opinionated and don’t mind sharing.
I think the real-life version of me is *so* much better than this one, but YMMV.
Ask anyone who’s had the misfortune of knowing me for any length of time. If my Feedburner stats take a dump, so be it.
Update: Just to be clear, I was laughing when I wrote this, so hopefully you are when you’re reading it. This wasn’t a plea for pity nor was it because I’m being psychically marauded by a rogue band of empaths looking to bring me down. I’m quite happy being me. Thanks for the virtual hugs from those of you thinking I was needing one!