I’m old enough that my vision is inevitably broader than yours.  I’ve earned my irrascibility.  Shut the fuck up, you empty headed nothing.  You have no soul, you vacuous attention vampire.
I appreciate that you earn heaps of pleasure from pleasuring me, that you yearn to see the look on my face as I eat your breakfast offering.  But please shut the fuck up.  You have nothing to say.  So don’t.
There is no need to ask me inane questions.  We don’t have to commune through re-constituting memories.  Don’t ask me questions that you know the answer to.  That’s not fun communion.
Just please shut the fuck up.  You are boring and dull and empty headed.  That’s fine.  Just shut up.

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