Superficial Twats

The Fake Twat “Entrepreneur”

Hi, I’m “The Entrepreneur”.

I’ve escaped the “rat race”. In case you haven’t noticed, I am literally describing you as a rat.

Everytime you are unlucky enough to have to bear my arrogant presence, I will remind you of your rat like status, scouring for your measly penny pay checks.

I actually have bollocks underneath the bollocks that I talk, hence I am entitled to speak my bollocks, leaving nothing left to describe me but as a cock.

You see, I’ve read around three self help books a year. That’s a lot, for some-one who doesn’t usually read. Each of these books that I’ve pretended to read state that to be a successful entrepreneur, you have to be persistent, hardworking, dedicated and the last to give up at being a superficial twat.  I understand concepts like integrity, honesty, decency, transparency, dignity- outdated and irrelevant ideas in my view. It’s a wolf eat sheep out there- and I live by that motto of praying on the weak. I don’t care if its an old granny with dementia and her only income that she has in her pocket she needs to buy her bread for the evening, it’s her own stupidity that left her in the rat race and if I need to take her money I will do. This is capitalism old friend, not for the faint hearted, or for any-one with any heart for that matter.

Did I mention to you my business? It’s going really well. I basically sit at home and do fuck all, live off my deceased father’s wealth and sell some shit on eBay occasionally. I’m going on holiday for six months, which I call “travelling to find myself”. I also watch Ted Talks, motivational speeches on Youtube and lately, I’ve invested in Bitcoin. Have you invested in Bitcoin? I’m happy to advise you for no charge at the next dinner party that we meet at, where you will talk of education, austerity cuts, public health and science and I’ll just talk about Bitcoin. You won’t miss me – I’ll be wearing the white suit that my fiancee picked out for me, as she too holds the entrepreneurial spirit of being with me for my perceived wealth, of which, when she finds out is nothing, will dump me like a bag of groceries that I’ll end up stacking on the shelf once shit hits the fan and she tells me to grow up, stop living with mummy and daddy and get a mortgage, and threatens to leave me if I don’t.

The truth is too difficult to handle, which is that I am just an ordinary being. Yet, I harbour fantasies of success, wealth and power, of which it is unlikely on my current trajectory that I’ll ever obtain. I hope that I do, for I find the qualities of vulnerability and dependance that I have so unbearable that I’ve split them off and projected them onto you people and labelled you as “rats”. I hold envy for not being able to enjoy the connectedness of being a part of a community that I can serve and gain pleasure from, instead choosing to follow a law of attraction/rich dad, poor dad dream unsuccessfully, leaving me snarking alone from a distance at your reliance on one another and claiming you are all “sheep”. My world is that of materialism and fakeness which includes my relationships with others, which exists only superficially from our understanding of each others self proclaimed statuses and nothing more- we see each other as falsely as we see ourselves. Whilst I hold this fantasy of success, I despise those who are handed wealth from their parents, despite this being my very own upbringing. Despising myself, I will go on to despise my child’s privileges and project onto him spoiltness and greed from myself. My child will in  turn despise himself and this sad cycle will continue and so long will live my surname and my status for many generations to come. 


The Perfect Family Member


Im the “Perfect Family Member”.

A bit like “the IT guy” and the “mysterious girl“, I’m all about family as it has just about enough structure and tolerance to allow my bullshit to grow, unlike friends who can choose not to spend any more time with my bollocks.

I’m the person that will greet you with a smile as you enter the door late as I am always early. I will have made the tray of a thousand fancy sausage rolls whilst you feel guilty for actually following the hosts instructions and bringing enough food for ten people. I’m the person who will say goodbye to you with a smile as you leave the door early, whilst I stay late…and so on. You will always get a text from me, on time, on christmas, new years, anniversaries, birthdays, when you leave for holiday, when you return from holiday as if I am an automated bot set on level irritance, but nothing more.

Apart from this concoction of superficial twat behaviour,  you will literally not get an ounce of conversation of any depth from me for the next thirty years you will know me. We shall speak only of holidays, bed linen, sofas and food intolerances. That shall be all. Ask me about my fears, my relationship tribulations, my guilty feelings towards my children, why I sink into a chair the moment this family charade is over and I’ll just smile at you and ask whether you want a sausage roll. The more you push, the more high pitched my offerings will become until I sound and look like a wound up and chewed barbie doll on crack.

Expect no other conversation in between the family dos. There’s no point- I have no need to actually get to know you as a person. Do expect, however, for me to turn up on your death bed to bring some food that no-one will eat, to then bugger off ten minutes later and pat myself on the back for being the perfect family member.

Why am I like this? You can hypothesise. You can come up with one of your theories as you have with “The IT guy” and with the “Mysterious girl” and the rest of the superficial twats. But your guess, unfortunately, is as good as mine, as I yet have not allowed myself to let my mask slip around you. The one thing that is obvious is that I am lonely and tired of hiding my burdens from others in order not to sadden your life. I don’t want to bring my baggage onto the lives of others. What I need to learn is that the range of emotions we experience makes us who we are and that sharing them allows our bonds to grow into something real, rather than remaining superficial. Why not take the chance…liberate  yourself and share the real you, rather than boring us all for the next thirty years we have to see you and eat your shitty sausage rolls.