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From: Mandrake <prmandrake0@gmail.com>
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: vocal
Date: Fri, 21 Jun 2024 20:33:55 -0500
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I talk a lot because I had this misguided notion that I was among 
friends in this world.  In reality 10% of the people around me are 
friendly and most of the others (secretly) hate me.  I liked to share my 
newfound wisdom with the populace, except that I was just fueling the 
enemy to steal my talents and to use them against me.  Being two-faced 
must not require much talent because it's ubiquitous in 50% of the 
population.  Somehow, I was of the notion that it was a deficit not a 
feature.  I got called two-faced once and it perked up my ears so that I 
started paying attention to the conversation with a vengeance.

It was kind of funny.  Fred has a burning hatred of me.  Him and this 
other two-faced guy were talking near me and Fred's muffled words 
required him to pitch in some harsh words and it upgraded my ability to 
decipher coded phrases such as "fat bitch".  The words are disguised 
with "bitch" being female.  You and I both know that boys get called 
bitch fairly often too.  Maybe I didn't learn much code breaking, yet it 
put front and center that people are talking about me in my presence 
while shielding it with distracting words.  I want to take one of them 
by the neck and rub my knuckles across the top of their head.  "I can 
hear you."  Although one false alarm and I'm toast.  All they have to do 
is say they weren't talking to me or about me and what do I do, call 
them a liar?  People are pretty good at escaping my verbal wrath too. 
It's not that I don't understand English as I've said in the past, but 
that if you imagine the Terminator when he has three options, one of 
which is "Fuck you asshole," my list of options is more like ten and I'm 
easily dismissed if I choose the wrong one.  Or they decide my right one 
is too close to the skin and tell me to quit having a hissy fit or 
whatever.  Grappling those mother fuckers might mean looking three moves 
ahead in the conversation.  Or I could just blow them off and defer them 
to the pavement.  Sometimes I get slammed doors or the silent treatment. 
  Out of sight out of mind.

Yes, I need to lose some weight.  Shitty food isn't helping; I order 
out.  At least I'm not diabetic.  I lost a lot of faith in the medical 
community when their rhetoric led me to believe diabetes was permanent. 
No, it's not.  Now, I've got to lose an additional 50 lbs, in order to 
get rid of my sleep apnea, something that kills people, for instance, 
Carrie Fisher, and Andrew Beckwith, someone you may be familiar with, too.