One night freaking out in NYC bar hopping. In between boozers. Leg twisting urge to piss. Seeing as when honored with a prick the world is your toilet, I whipped out in a darkened building corner. Combination of the vices I partook of and the sphincter relief, I began moaning loudly, which morphed into a maniacal laughter. Frightened a flock of hipster chicks.

By the way, I love a girl ballsy enough to take a squat on the street. Warms the cockles to see a chick letting loose all wildstyle.

When is it okay in a social setting to say "I'm so sorry, I can no longer talk to you."? As it stands I usually just walk away from uninteresting folk midsentence. I figure if I preface my departure from their verbal compost with the aforementioned statement, there wouldn't be as much hullabaloo. Honestly don't care if people think I'm rude. Just trying to figure out ways to limit the amount of follow up confrontations. See, the reason I would walk away from someone is that I no longer want to interact with them. Besides, the rudeness only becomes heightened to an insulting phase, as I commence in finding the chink in the clueless feeb's armour and trample on it to as wide an audience as possible. I'm only attempting to prevent a lameass from crying in their pillow later that evening.

Maybe carrying a spray bottle with me is the solution. Like training a mutt to stop barking. Quick spritz in the grill. Even the most retarded of idiots would leave me alone after the third blast. Tard training. This could lead to an extremely lucrative learning center venture.