Every now and then, I run into an article that makes it unbearably difficult for me to keep my food down, even if I hadn’t eaten anything that day. Here is a classic “literary piece” that appears to have been designed to feed my hate to full satiation:
Leaving aside the title of the letter that immediately causes moderate but persistent nausea, let’s dive in and cuntalyze it:
“My career has inadvertently made me fall in love with this city.” – this is the first red flag and a clear sign that this woman is your typical SF career obsessed pain in the ass.
“…and became a blonde tech girl in marketing.” – yea, no shit, really? We would have never guessed. For a moment, I thought you might be a sultry, soft spoken brunette who is into cooking and gardening.
“There are times where I feel like I live out the same story again and again. Whether it’s dating, flaking, partying, getting clean, going on a diet — just about everything here is redundant.” Ahhh. the few, the confused, the jaded sheep. Like many others, she is caught in the hamster wheel of never ending, stressful pointlessness of her cliche SF life.
“I see it all because I have to drink in The City everyday.” – it’s easy to love the city and your life when you are constantly intoxicated. But then again, is it even anywhere near being anything that remotely resembles love.
“There are more things going on here than anywhere else I have ever lived.” – is she serious? Did she actually live anywhere else. It appears that she spent a considerable amount of time in Tel Aviv, so she should no better. Even a two day trip to NYC should make it very clear to her that hardly anything is going on here, especially these days when so much of what made SF worth living in is gone.
“Those assholes,” I think to myself as I proceed to give them the finger while carefully navigating around them trying not to get hit.” – another clear and irrefutable cunt giveaway.
“They seem like cool-ass chicks who don’t want to talk about their careers.” Newsflash: there is more to life and conversations that talking about team meetings, performance reviews, career opportunities, stock market. Where is my puke bag?
“… cool chicks… One has blue hair and a Metallica T-shirt” – let’t not confuse cool chicks with gross ones.
“Despite … the decrepit dating scene, I still have love for the many man-children in this city who just want to focus on their careers. ” – translation – I am neither cute, nor feminine enough, nor do I have anything else to offer to make a decent guy truly care about me and keep his interest for longer than a few dates.
I hope this little commentary helped you understand this “love letter” better.
Ciao for now.