Painful Conversations!

P1; I feel a loud pain where your fist impacted my face

P2; It’s been a day

P1; I said a single word

P2; You offended me, it’s been a really bad day

P1; All I dared to utter was ‘hello’

P2; I would refer you to my original statement



The Anti-Social Expert’s guide to Communication and Social Interaction



So; you enter the room and everyone’s temperature dips several degrees below that of the discarded frozen item in the staff fridge, even the Ice Queen Boss making ice cubes out of her assistant’s tears has adjusted the heating dial to a severely notable degree. The way you say hello just sent the poor soul you were harmlessly addressing into various athletic fits of epileptic fear, so extreme the devil is offering rates if you would work as a consultant.


Having explained to the poor soul’s next of kin you were only saying ‘hello’ and that the fear induced paralysis is only temporary, it mentally occurs that maybe you need to improve your communication skills. The hushed gathering of slack jawed, idiotic, barely half capable and non-relevant persons (thinking in these terms may be a hint of more severe anti-social issues!) gives you the perfect opportunity to announce this.

Using the words “Don’t worry cretins, I’ll attempt not to overload your puny brains by appearing less intelligent and improving my social skills” will counter any potential good that this announcement could potentially achieve.

1: Sense of Humour

Susan from accounting has had a bad day; “Don’t worry, you can use the gun after me, just wipe the brain matter off first in case it stains your top” with a smile on your face… And for some reason she isn’t laughing. Those not afflicted by the distinctly bleak dark humour your anti-social sub-routines operate on may be offended, insulted, shocked, blindly scream in a high pitched fashion or plain old stare in confusion as bluntly as a tech specialist at a dating event.

Try using sickeningly merry terms like “…..” (I would fill in that blank but that might induce uncontrollable vomiting and nausea) or merely smile brightly, preferable without the manic style serial killer effect or vampiric teeth. Following this advise and providing the socially reassuring rot most people consider conversation will avoid the paralytic shock reactions, saying horrifically common and optimistic phrases should further the suicidal need to cleanse your brain with a… I mean; should improve the quality of interaction you have with the cretins… I mean; with other people.

Use of a bucket or hollow receptacle after spouting such cringe worthy repellent phrases and positive terminology is expected so be prepared!

2: Body Language, behaviours and assorted accessories

Resting a pair of scissors on that thinly protective veil of flesh called a wrist will in other anti-social types rather benignly muster a “too messy, and not in the workplace” with a casually blank glance at the pair of scissors taping against their own wrist”. The two days unshaven look is to any fellow non-human not of obvious concern, along with the coldly dead stare and eerily blunt as a brick to a sponge cake delivery style of “I’m fine”.

But to those unnecessarily emotionally sensitive saps who are not yet internally deadened; these signs will engender the need to mindlessly probe and question your mood till the stapler in your hand is playing their head like a drum.

Appearing, dare I utter the insulting word, ‘human’ will reinforce the falsely projecting ideal that when partnered with a freshly smart attire that you are not some sub-human creature, as whom ever has the misfortune of knowing the real you will in fact know is a bare faced screaming lie. Adding a smile, an emoji and some merry happy wordidge will effect successful blending in with the nauseatingly communal mass.

Note: Therapists are fine with you confessing the want to permanently silence annoying co-workers, but blood stains and holding a bloodied stapler will lead to panic from even the most hardened head doctors!

3: Acknowledging other people’s lives/Mindless drivel known as small talk

The literary exploratory of the various realms of hell are acutely accurate to the personal pits of suffering that you feel when engaging in small talk and uttering “I had a mini breakdown, failed to be social and ended up dabbling in self-harm” when asked how your weekend went will clash with the normalised response of “(Whatever happy/mindless shit the merry flock get up to)”. The mandatory trip to the company therapist is a nice half hour away from the desk however!

The ‘Married with kids’ and ‘In happy relationship’ crowd will have many new and verbally colourful explanations of all the stuff that drives deeper the embedded natural hatred of everything you lack, thus the momentous urge to vocally silence their tedious conversational offerings will be naturally present. Resist this urge and outwardly show a version of yourself who sprouts genuine sounding vague and cheery responses, which matches the clean shaven and smartly presented human from my previous advisory; therefore preventing the mandatory ten yard distance that anyone with a notion of happiness regularly maintains.

Unless you really are so filled with hatred/annoyance/stress that the very ground your hoofs make contact with melts with the acid dripping off your tongue, in which case call in sick to avoid having to replace the stapler… again!


We are not people; we are what we are and each to their own, or in my case a sub-human creature

People are ‘social’ and they ‘smile’ as well as acting ‘human’, it’s not that anti-social types can’t do any of those things but merely that it’s not how ‘people’ do it. So be positive and sound like the herd that follow the numbingly head bashing normalised standards of conformity, and if all else fails you can always find a nice cliff and take diving lessons (See the first point for why not to say that in public!).

Within the huddled and joyfully depressive crowds of sub-human creatures we feel at home within all manners of dark humour to a point of being sectioned, conversational cliff dives about the nature of all that drives the daggers into your back and alcoholism inducing topics we love to exchange words about are all fine to share. Society on the normalised level however is complicit with happy happy shiny folk that secretly we wish to feel more like, even if that idea makes us wretch!

So in all the perfectly conjured solutions I have offered here today take solace in lying, through your teeth, bare faced and so blindingly glaring that the happy happy shiny folk can feel good about themselves. Not the way the self-help books would word it but at the core, the truth!

As long as you have someone in your life with which to freely dive the horrid depths of all misery, bluntness and sheer lack of even a microscopic hint of social graces you will be as ok as possible; for with those equally blessed/damned souls you can be yourself, which as ever is where happiness resides.

Perforated Personality, Humour?

A stable personality

Reason for concern; Did I leave the oven on?

Things not to worry about; Did I leave the casserole out?

Afterthought; I must get something else for diner if the casserole isn’t ok

A joke; At least the cat will have a nice meal!


A depressive personality

Reason for concern; Will I have a complete breakdown at this function?

Things not to worry about; Is it safe to use sharp objects whilst I’m mildly suicidal?

Afterthought; This knife is really blunt, must get a new one for next time

A joke; At least I won’t have to worry about making diner!


Reason for concern; You’re laughing right now!!


Going Dark

Going Dark:

An unexplainable lack of any form of above basic presence, communication and availability from a person for an undisclosed time that is triggered without warning, often brought on by an unpredictable event in life that destabilizes a persons grasp of life, reality and overall sanity.

Or in the case of an unstable personality or anti-social character, whenever the fuck it happens because it/they want it to!

An extremely annoying act which is very rude, unless you are use to that particular person pulling a disappearing trick, again…


Christmas Letter 2016 (clean version!)

Dear Santa

    Fuck you… That hourglass figured stripper with noticeable features you said was ‘into me’ turned out to be a cannibal (and you knew it) but I did return the favour and say you were interested in being her Christmas diner but alas I would not be attending, seems I will have a property deal to negotiate in the North Pole (depending on the outcome of the diner). On other counts I must report that this year has been crappy, annoying and somewhat depressing, with a side order of damningly morose at even the lowest failures of a high.

    To concede I must reluctantly (with a capital R so visible from space that a short sighted alien amoeba could see it) that there were some less than miserable failing highs to punctuate an otherwise razor blade tempting year. An event of stature that resounds as a drum in a silent meditation session being the Easter Bunny’s summer bash/drunken excuse to get so pissed a hall of mirrors would appear passable un distorting, your party trick with an elf hat and a candy cane only topped by the arrival of your wife… at least she only kicked you out for two months this time!

    So we warmly arrive to the part of this letter where I spell out my most earnest desires present wise, the above mentioned lady but without a taste for flesh notwithstanding, and so I do begin this fatally short request list by asking for two weeks at a cliff side villa. The next two requests must as ever be taken as unconnected in what could evolve into ‘accidental’ circumstances, referencing a pair of wings and two crates of vodka, in no way an indicating factor to what would really open a cracking elegy!

    The end is nigh for my literary contribution to that sack of fuel you use to cut heating bills, as is my time to contribute to your existence should that stripper find where you live, and so I must wish you the best of seasonal working conditions and a merry (not too drunken) new year. That year little Timmy found a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels in his socking may be funny, but according to the lawyers very costly, good thing you delivered Cupid (tied up and gagged whilst wearing half a pantomime horse outfit) to a department store by accident, else it really would have been a law suit to remember.

    On another note; I shall never tell Cupid that I found the other half of the outfit in my flat the following day!

Your Friend as ever

Bob Larkin Robertos

PS; You still owe me for last year’s disappearing act from the pub, two rounds of drinks and an apology for asking if you can ‘unwrap like a present on Christmas morning’ the bar maid, on another note; if I don’t get my Christmas wishes I’ll tell your wife what I know