Heh, watch this

typed for your pleasure on 2 January 2006, at 11.43 pm

Sdtrk: ‘Neat neat neat’ by the Damned

This is just plain embarrassing.


Holy crap, it’s ô:41? I’m late!!

As the top two vertical bars on the second-from-the-leftmost digit have suddenly vanished, it looks like now I have to buy a new watch. I’m like the White Rabbit*; I always have to have a watch on me so I either can be assured that I am indeed running late for whatever, or so I can periodically check it in order to formulate a proper excuse for taking my leave. The funny thing is is that I’ve had this watch since.. egad, it’s been since at least 1999, cos I’d bought it for my Quest job. I needed a timepiece small enough that would allow me to stretch a pair of rubber gloves across it.
No, unfortunately that job was a lot less kinky than it sounds. There was pee involved, however.

Compared to my gradeschool/highschool tour of duty, my timepiece needs are a lot simpler. In fact, up until my Quest job, I’d gone through several different versions of the calculator watch, finally reaching my peak with the first version of the CASIO Databank that stored addresses and phone numbers and the like. It’s true; I was kind of a nerd! So fuck you. But I’ll tell you this: with my last couple of watches, I was getting tired of the plastic strap it came with, so I bought this black leather affair for it, which sported one wide strap down the middle, and a narrower strap on either side, which made for a truly cyberpunk presentation, even without the silver studs that it boasted. I wore that bastard until two of the three straps gave out. I loved that watchband..

These days, however, I don’t need to store all of my sundry information into my watch, for goodness sake, that’s what I have my phone for! So a smaller watch is what I require. Anything 1) digital and 2) under $15, cos let’s be honest — spending more than $15 on a feckin’ watch is lunacy. Unless, of course, it’s one of the retro-futuristic watches sold on Tokyoflash. But sweet slow-roasted Christ, those are expensive. Not to mention complicated. And heavy. Here’s a prime example:



Morse Code by Morse
‘Tokyoflash is proud to present the first ever Morse Code watch.

The watch has 3 modes for telling the time.
Using a bulit in speaker that refracts the sound off your wrist through the solid stainless caseback it sounds out the time in Morse Code.
If thats to hard to follow, you can press a button to see the time in Morse Code on the LED display.
If that’s still too hard to decipher or your running out of time, one more press of a button you can see the time in regular digit form.

Stimulate your mind and learn to tell the time in Morse Code.

The quality is second to none with 150 grams of solid stainless, this watch is built like a Navy Seal!
With its high polish strap & mirrored lens – in bright sunlight you could even signal in Morse Code.’

JAPAN RETAIL: ¥18900 (161 USD)
TOKYOFLASH PRICE: ¥12900 (110 USD)

Looks ace, but the price is a wee bit prohibitive. Plus in comparison, by and large you’re not gonna be too concerned if anything adverse happens to a $15-or-less watch.
Getting back to my malfunctioning timepiece, frankly, I’m surprised that it’s taken as long as it has to start going out-of-order. Note that I say ‘start’, as it still basically works — it’s not as if the screen has gone out — but it just doesn’t work very well. It’s like driving a car where the left turn indicator doesn’t work. You can still drive it.. just not very well. Funnily enough, between the time I bought this one and now, I’ve actually gone through three other watches, not to mention the fact that I’ve only replaced the battery once (a couple of months ago) since purchase. Hrrm. Maybe this watch killed the other watches? I suspect foul play.

So I suppose this week, I’ll scour Target and/or Meijer half-heartedly for a new timepiece. O, the Excitement.
Upon reflection, this post reminds me of the time that I went on about buying a new electric shaver! I am dutifully continuing the legacy of being a cheap bastard

*Speaking of the White Rabbit, d’ya know what would be absolutely perfect? A digital pocketwatch. That would be the best product ever, hands down

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GIVE ME A GODDAMN BIG GULP OR I SHOOT

typed for your pleasure on 8 December 2005, at 10.44 pm

Sdtrk: ‘Et moi, et toi, et soie’ by Cléo

Heh. I’m thinking someone just managed to squeak by on their psychological tests.

Police: Officer Zaps Partner After Soda Dispute

POSTED: 7:19 am EST December 8, 2005

HAMTRAMCK, Mich. — Authorities said a police officer in Michigan used a Taser stun gun on his partner during an argument about stopping for a soft drink.

The suspect was fired after the Nov. 3 incident and is charged with assault.

Ronald Dupuis, 32, could get up to 93 days in jail if convicted.

Authorities said Dupuis asked partner Prema Graham to stop at a store for a soft drink, but she refused and instead kept driving back to headquarters.

Authorities said the partners struggled over the steering wheel, and Dupuis hit Graham’s leg with his department-issued Taser gun. She wasn’t seriously hurt.

Apart from the fact that she was tasered in the leg, of course.
At least his badge was revoked. And why only 93 days? Might as well round it off and make it a year, just to make sure. This is the sort of thing that further solidifies the idea that I’ve always held, that you really have to be a certain type of psychotic to become a police officer these days

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I’d forgotten how much I love working with people!

typed for your pleasure on 8 December 2005, at 5.21 pm

Sdtrk: ‘Your daddy’s car’ by The Divine comedy

As stated before, I don’t really plan on ever writing very much about my job on ‘Shouting etc etc’, cos it’s a hideous and dreadful position; however, yesterday’s workday stood out a bit, mainly due to its going-out-of-its-way-to-be-noticeable stupidity.

I work the first shift at a telemarketing fundraising place, which means I go in Monday – Friday, from 10am to 2pm. (Save your envy, I’m only getting paid $8 per hour.) On my shift, there are roughly 40 employees present, all doing the same bollocks I’m doing; calling churls in a couple of states, and requesting donations. Ever since Thanksgiving, though, the donations are down to a trickle, as people are obviously concentrating on buying gifts, giving to other charitable organisations and whatnot.

So over the course of the day, the two supervisors are walking up and down the aisles, loudly exhorting people to ‘speak up’ and ‘get strapped in’ and ‘knuckle down’ and other would-be motivational bullshit, but as anyone with a brain knows, all the loud talking in the world really won’t make a lick of difference, as it’s ultimately down to the person on the other end of the phone to decide whether or not they fire off a cheque or money order. Now, round the third hour of our day, our supervisor George — the fat surly one with a complete lack of a personality — goes up to the cubicles of several employees and speaks with them semi-privately. Shortly after, those employees collectively punch out and leave. It turned out that those particular employees hadn’t had a sale in a little over three hours, so they were sent home. The Fat Angel of Death merely passed by my doorway, as I had just gotten my first sale of the day fifteen minutes before then.

Now, maybe it’s just me, but does that not seem a little.. fucking stupid? Wouldn’t it make more sense to keep more employees in their seats in the hopes that they might get a donation, as opposed to having less people on the phones, and decreasing your chances? It’s the exact opposite of buying a mess of lottery tickets. That whole event struck me as being contra-productive at best, and petulant & childish at worst. Such a lovely work environment, I’m tellin’ yer.

I’d also just like to add that today, I wore my black cardigan with the HAL 9000 patch on it, and not one, but two coworkers, on two separate occasions, asked me what that patch was about. *grits teeth* Of course, in my mind, I’m screaming ‘have you never fucking seen “2001”??’ but then, I work in a place where more than a couple of people are into hip-hop. And when I say ‘more than a couple’, I mean ‘ninety-nine per cent’. Trying to explain something ‘artsy’ like ‘2001’ to these people is like.. well, I don’t want to say anything along the lines of ‘pearls before swine’, but you can’t say it doesn’t fit

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click ‘Hello?’ click ‘Hello?’ click ‘Hello?’ etc

typed for your pleasure on 21 November 2005, at 3.28 pm

Sdtrk: ‘You and I’ by Silver apples

Today was my first day at my even newer job! Yep, new job. Let me bring you up to speed on my recent attempts at ‘gainful’ employment: The job I previously had driving to and fro wasn’t really bad at all, apart from the fact that the hours were virtually non-existent. It was an on-call kind of thing, and during that time of year, there wasn’t a hell of assignments available – more often than not, it was a case of there being more drivers than tasks available. Whilst at work one day in early October, my dispatcher called me over to the side, saying ‘Just so you know, if you want to look around for another job, you can, cos we’re really not going to have a lot of work until the beginning of the year’. At first, I thought it was just me he didn’t have any work for, but as it turns out, it was across the board. My friend/coworker Dave Z was firing off resumes left and right as well, as the hours were really scarce. One day I came in, worked about an hour, sat round in the dispatcher’s office for another 45 minutes waiting for a new assignment, was told there wasn’t anything left for that day, and was sent home. Now, a two-hour workday would be feckin’ ace if it were a normal job, wherein you’d be paid for eight, but we were paid by the hours we actually worked. WOO HOO.

So! I did a bit of job-hunting, and interviewed at some place that needed outgoing callers in the daytime. They called me back a couple of days later; they told me that I was hired, but they’d let me know in a week what day to come in, as they were in the midst of getting a project from a new client. So a week went by, and I was in relatively high spirits. The bloke who interviewed me called me back while I was in line buying my laptop, saying ‘Well, the hours for the job have changed, as the new client wants us to call some days in the evening’.
‘What days?’ I asked.
‘Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday’, he replied. ‘I remember that you said you have classes, but I don’t remember what days..’
‘Monday and Tuesday eve’, I replied, cutting him off. As you suspect, I was rather pissed off at that point, especially since I had just quit my driving job the day before. He hemmed and hawed, telling me that they’d keep my name on the list, and I hung up on him.

Thankfully, two weeks ago, I was graced with an interview and a callback for my new job, which I’ve just come home from. It’s *sigh* fundraising via telephone again, but this is something that’ll be able to put fuel in my tank until I graduate. Mon – Fri, 10am to 2pm, at $8 per hour, plus commission when I get succesful sales. Err, I mean donations. It doesn’t sound like much, but 20 hours a week is a hell of a lot better than six to eight hours a month.
The office contains about 40 people, and since it’s in Southfield (a nice 15 minute drive from mine), 95% of the workers are playas and would-be gangstas. So of course I’ll fit in even less there than I usually do most places. *shrug* Our paid orientation was four hours, and it’s about as straightforward as you can get. Like I’d said, it’s something to put fuel in my tank.. It’ll be nice not being absolutely broke!

Ooh, look at what comes out at BestBuy tomorrow!

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Annoyed beyond reason and politeness

typed for your pleasure on 27 October 2005, at 2.15 pm

Sdtrk: ‘Bop scotch’ by Stereolab

AN OPEN LETTER TO MICRO$OFT

Dearest shitwicks,

I say this in all honesty, and without the slightest trace of insincerity: the lot of you need to choke down a cock, after which, you should crawl into ditches by the side of the road, and die. Tell me; if I’ve already bought a brand-new computer from a chain store that’s bundled with MS Windows, why in burning fuck does it not come with MS Office built into it? For free? I’m not talking about the ‘trial’ version, which is only good for 50 uses, I’m talking about full-usage Word, Access, Excel and PowerPoint being installed on the computer I just paid $1000 for. You know damn well people need Word at home, at the very least, and if you’re running any sort of business, I suppose the other three are useful as well. Once my classes are complete, I’ll probably never use Excel or Access ever in my life — much like algebra — but that’s irrelevant. Why are these not standard-issue programmes?

I was over at BestBuy this morning, checking on the prices for MS Office 2003 Student/Teacher Edition, as I was told by a classmate that it was only fifty bucks. Well, this just confirms that shouldn’t listen to my classmates at all, as she neglected to add a one in front of that fifty. And naturally, I was at the store with only $55. Apart from the fact that the basic, i.e. Student/Teacher version should already be in all store-bought PCs that run Windows — that is to say, all of them — if you insist on selling it separately, you really need to lower your goddamn prices. Christ in shitty knickers, $150?? For the ‘incomplete’ version?? So what all does the Professional version do that the cheaper version not do? I mean, if the Professional version is four hundred fucking dollars, there had better be a blowjob that ranks as a profound spiritual experience. Actually there should be several of them, and it doesn’t count if Bill Gate$ face is involved.

There is no reason why MS Office isn’t standard issue on PCs. There is no reason, if it’s not bundled with a computer, why it should be so horrifically expensive. No reason on earth. Bill Gate$, you need to stop being a cumguzzling profit whore for once in your life, and do what I tell you to do, you weedy little shit. Failing that, your dramatic and humourous self-immolation would be the only other thing I’d want from you.

And your money. That goes without saying.

Love,
Davecat

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Off my chest, onto your monitor

typed for your pleasure on 18 October 2005, at 3.41 pm

Sdtrk: ‘Silver line’ by Birdie

Contrary to popular belief, I don’t go round attacking or sniping at people left and right in ‘real-life’ situations, as not only do I have that much time on my hands, but most people really aren’t worth the effort. But I felt it necessary that I wrote this post, much in the same way that the body rids itself of toxins by vomiting. So at this point, you should probably step back a couple of feet, so you don’t get any on ya.

At this point, I’m certain that over the course of the past week or so, you’ve seen various posts all round the World Wide Wet dealing with the Salon.com article. If not, merely fire up Technorati, and search for any conjunction of the words ‘Davecat’, ‘Sidore’, ‘iDollator’, or ‘creepy’, and you’ll have several sites to choose from. Many of those posts are less than charitable, and all of those happen to be written by closed-minded arseholes.
Now, the curious thing about seeing these excoriating posts, is that 95% of them are written by politically-motivated individuals. When I say that, I mean that a lot of these blogs are normally filled with content dealing with social issues, impeaching Dubya, etc etc. That, in and of itself, is odd enough, as what does a Doll and her husband have to do with a blog of that nature? But the really strange thing is, most of these politically-motivated bloggers? They’re liberals. Or, at least, so-called liberals. You would think that a person who stands for racial equality, the elimination of societal classes, gay and lesbian rights, etc etc, would be pro-Synthetik; or, at the very least, not entirely against the idea.

Over at pandagon, where they practically had me on the gallows, it seemed that a prerequisite of writing a response that would gain you their favour was to call me a misogynist. For those of you who don’t want to wade through the 400+ responses to the post concerning Meghan’s article, basically, I am a creep/loser/sexist/misogynist/tool of the patriarchy (choose one) because not only do I own a RealDoll, but I’ve given her a personality. Giving her a personality, or even referring to Shi-chan as ‘her’ rather than ‘it’, means that I hate women, but since I’m a loser, I still want sex, but having my ‘overpriced fucktoy’ means that I don’t have to deal with a ‘real’ woman’s opinions, likes, dislikes, etc. So obviously that makes me a creep/loser/sexist/misogynist/tool of the patriarchy (choose one)! It’s that simple!
There’s oh so many problems with that school of thought. So very many.

+ I wrote two responses on the pandagon post; in the first one, I’d said

So I would assume that no-one here has ever been rejected in their advances towards a partner? I assume every single one of you has been completely and utterly successful with their dating experiences? Moreover, the person you’re with is an absolute flawless joy to be around, physically, emotionally, and mentally? Well, congratulations to the lot of you! You’re extraordinarily lucky, each and every one of you. Really, I mean that.

It really doesn’t occur to a lot of iDollator critics that quite a few owners have their Dolls because they’re sick of being rejected, due to failing to meet the standards of whatever person they’re trying to romantically impress. After a few couple of times of falling off the romance horse, some people, like me, say ‘this really isn’t fucking worth it’, and stop. Our society places great pressure on people to get together and be in a relationship, but it requires a lot of time and energy that a lot of individuals don’t have, so they ‘settle’ for someone, and either compromise parts of themselves in the process, or consciously/subconciously try to change their partner. And then, there are times when the person you’ve linked up with turns out to be a vicious liar, as KrazyQ pointed out. The pandagon fuckwits have no idea what makes an iDollator become an iDollator, as there’s no one reason. In my case, one of the foremost reasons is that I was tired of being stabbed in the back by people I placed too much trust in.

+ Which leads up to a comment I’d made in my second post, which turned into some seriously miscontrued bullshit:

I’d rather be in a relationship with a Doll, rather than be in one with a real woman who’s possibly lying to meet her own ends. I’m sure that’s got the feminists here chomping at the bit, but as I’d said, I’m not misogynist; I just don’t like liars, especially when love is involved. Being with a Doll eliminates that possibility.

Of course, they read that as ‘Davecat thinks all women are liars’. Frankly, I think 99% of the population, male or female, are liars, with a few notable exceptions. I was saying that it concerns me more that a) the few dating experiences I’ve had were with a couple of liars, most notably my interactions with the Slag, and b) it’s going to affect me more if a woman that I’m interested in is lying, cos I don’t date men. But being psychotic, they added 2 with 2 and arrived at 22.

+ I’m sorry, but if you are taking a paragraph, reducing it to its component sentences, and then chopping the sentences up to infinitesmally small thoughts that you don’t even fully comprehend, as you’re making presumptions to begin with, that is also a problem. People, especially high-minded individuals who consider themselves socially aware intellectuals, should know that sometimes the context of printed articles gets distorted. I have absolutely no problem whatsoever with Meghan’s article — it’s brilliantly composed, and I’m glad it was written — but part of the problem with the pandagon shits, and really, the other blogs ragging on me, is that the Salon.com edit is inferior to the original version. But everyone’s seen the Salon.com version, and as Salon doesn’t mention the existence of the original story, that’s all these people have to go on. Not only that, but as far as pandagon, most people didn’t read past the first page of the story, and quite a few people didn’t read it at all.

+ Brief thing: it’s great how they have a problem with me referring to Shi-chan as ‘she’ and not ‘it’. Is it just me, or wouldn’t referring to a female-shaped object that I’m intimate with as an ‘it’ be more offensive and sexist and dehumanising, than if I didn’t?
To the uninitiated, seeing the elaborate personality and backstory I’ve created for Sidore might seem weird at best, and creepy at worst. To be an iDollator, you do have to have your tongue planted in your cheek. Dolls are silicone receptacles that the more inventive of us choose to use as physical bodies for personalities. It’s called having fun. Yes, Sidore is not a ‘real person’; yes, she is a Doll, but giving her a personality is more of a ‘human’ thing to do, rather than seeing an expensive, beautifully-sculpted work of art as just a ‘fucktoy’.

+ Funny thing: In a phone conversation this Sunday past, Meghan pointed out that both of us had posted, and yet no-one actually asked us anything. Think about that. Both the writer and one of the main subjects of the story were there, and yet no-one actually asked us anything. Well, I take that back; one or two people asked Meghan a question, but all I received were sarky comments. That just solidifies everything as far as the mentality of people like that; the whole ‘it’s wrong because it’s wrong’, or ‘it’s wrong because I said so’, or ‘it’s wrong because it’s a lot easier for me to insult someone than to open my tiny fucking mind to questions that might shatter my fragile ideals’. It’s ironic and a little unsettling to me because those people are ‘liberals’. They’re theoretically supposed to be on my side.
Really, normal feminists I have nothing wrong with. I honestly believe that a lot of the reasons why society is as bollocked up as it is is because there’s been a male stranglehold on it for hundreds of years. But you’re a radical feminist, you say? O! You’re fucked up. You’re a bitter, scowling, sexually frustrated, morally confused, fucked up person. You are no better than the right-wing Republicans which you loathe, you are simply the opposite side of the coin. It’s like SafeT said, people like that drain any and all credibility from normal feminists and their sympathisers.

+ And as I, and a couple of other posters had attempted to convey (surprisingly, there were a couple of people on my side. Actually, it was more like Meghan, and a friend of hers were defending me there, and there were two or three people who were leaning towards my side): why is it such a monumental issue that some people have a Synthetik companion to begin with? Female detractors will say ‘You’re creepy, and I wouldn’t want anything to do with you’. To a Doll husband, not only is that not in any way a loss, but anybody who would say anything like that is the kind of individual that we would take pains to avoid — romantically, in a day-to-day context, whatever. It’s a sign of over-inflated self-importance that a person would say something like that, as well as a striking indicator of closed-mindedness. Personally speaking, the more closed-minded you are, the less I’m going to think of you.

At this point, I think that pretty much covers the lot. ‘Your friends don’t need an explanation, and your enemies won’t believe you anyway.’ But I do want to leave you with a link to a very beautiful post, written by one of my dearest friends, Penda. You know, my closest female friend that I’ve known for 25 years, which is quite remarkable for a misogynist like myself. With her personal perspective, she brings across in her eloquent way a more condensed version of what I’ve just written here. So go read that instead. 🙂

All done!

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Oh, (the) humanity

typed for your pleasure on 26 August 2005, at 12.00 pm

Sdtrk: ‘At night’ by the Cure

This morning, I was awakened by my bloody phone ringing at sometime after 8.30am. I lurched out of bed, saw it was a number that I didn’t recognise, and switched the ringer off. Roughly three minutes later, I hear the beep that indicates that someone’s left a message, and I’m thinking, ‘who in fuck’s left me a three minute message??’ So I got out of bed again in order to check who it was, and it turned out to be D_____, a lass that was the receptionist at my last job who I was half-heartedly attempting to chat up. She was going on at length about how she’s just moved her computer into her new place with her current boyfriend, and they got into it this morning, as he had checked her AOL Inbox, and discovered, to his chagrin, several names of males that were not his own. Yeah, he’s one of those lovely, aggressively insecure types of blokes — he’s a cop, which pretty much says it all right there. D_____ had left a message wanting to know how exactly she could make sure she got rid of, or at least hide, any and all Emails from her other guy friends that she’d received, as well as pictures; as one time, I had gotten round to her old place and taken photos of her feet — yes, I’m a foot fetishist, we’ve covered this — and Emailed them back to her. He had asked who took them, and D_____ panicked and said some coworker had taken them, and when I rung her back at work, she said that he was probably going through her AOL account as we spoke. In short, the Gestapo was paying her a visit, and she wanted to know how best to effectively hide the Jews in her cupboards. I honestly don’t know how that analogy came about, but it’s making me giggle.

Basically, I’m sat here shaking my head. Why is it that people get into relationships, and knowingly stay in them, with fuckwits? I’m telling her, ‘well, D_____, if he won’t let you send and receive Emails from any one of your male friends, or he won’t let you give out your cellphone number to any one of your male friends, or if he won’t let you hang out with your male friends — in many cases, blokes you’ve known before you even met your prick of a boyfriend — then maaaybe that’s not the sort of relationship you want to be in?’ She’s saying that the arguments with him are stressing her out, which was audibly apparent in speaking with her the last couple of times after I was fired. I suggested that I take her out to dinner for a stress-free evening, but she claimed it would be difficult, if not impossible, to get away for any length of time, as she heads straight from work to pick her boyfriend’s son up from school, whereupon she heads back to her place and spends the rest of the eve with her prick of a boyfriend. D_____ apparently can’t leave her relationship, cos from what I see, she’s like thousands upon thousands of people who have a driving need to be with someone — anyone — even if that person has a couple of faults, such as being a suspicious little shit.

Now, I speak with some experience, as to some extent, that’s the way things were with my and my former housemate, the Slag. I was going to my job, being depressed there, coming home, having to drive her silly arse out to her stripper job or whatever cos she couldn’t drive, then hours later, having to get out of bed and leave a sound sleep behind in order to pick her up from said job, and then she would invariably chew me out because of something I did or didn’t do, either in real life, or solely in her deranged hallucinatory mind. I’m a person who believes that a home should not be a stressful place; it should be someplace where you can get away from virtually everything. After speaking to all manner of cunts from various states on the phone for seven hours, home should be a place where I really shouldn’t have to speak to anyone, if I choose not to. So one day, after of culmination of events that I’ll have to explain at a later date (that’s for the rest of the ‘I am not making this up‘ series, which I swear I’ll finish one day), I simply packed up my belongings and left. Good job on that as well, as it’s done loads for my sanity and well-being.
That caustic series of months where I lived with that so-called person pretty much solidified the fact that I can’t live with anyone. If they’re a friend before I lived with them, they turn into something entirely and negatively Other. Living by oneself, as I’ve said before, allows a person to actually develop their interests in their own time. It permits them to relax, and not be ‘on’ all the time. Most importantly, it allows them to see and do what they want, with whom they want, without having to field awkward and unnecessary questions from their roommate or partner. That’s one of the many reasons that I enjoy the company of my RealDoll Sidore. Rampant iDollatry aside, a Doll doesn’t care if you’ve had partners in the past, a Doll doesn’t care if you come home four hours later than you said you would, etc etc. It’s my goal to eliminate as much stress from my life as I possibly can, and being in the sort of relationship I’m currently in works toward that goal.

I don’t want to give the impression that I’m writing this in the spirit of ‘ha ha, I’m better off than you are’, cos I’m not. I just completely and utterly fail to understand why people will put up with that sort of behaviour. It could be argued that there are a few advantages being in one-half of a relationship — doubled income; constant, relentless, non-stop companionship — but if you have to compromise your personal freedoms, then none of it’s worth it. Society dictates that to be ‘successful’ and ‘happy’, you should be in a traditional relationship, but the way I see it, just because society says it’s a good idea, then it most likely isn’t

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