STFU Resolution

Buckle up, Buttercup.

This just may be the year I eschew my eschewing of New Year’s resolutions. Unlike most though, I am not looking to quit smoking. After more than 35 years, chances of me desiring to quit are particularly low. In the event I ever decide to quit again, I know how to effectively do it. Making a deal with myself is not it.

I am not looking to lose weight. Do I have what my photographer pouted at (and touted) as “junk in the trunk”? Absolutely. I told him, and rightfully so, I have enough ass to be continued on the next six people. Not changing that soon.

I am not looking to write a book. I have written many. I will likely write three in the upcoming year. That is not a resolution; it is a profession.

I am not looking to save the whales, rain forests, wetlands, condors or any other endangered species or place. I am on a mission to save something. That is my resolution.

Pride may goeth before a fall, but only if pride is blind and stupid. I wear glasses and am anything except stupid.

My resolution is not to have my pride hurt by those who choose against me. Their reasons are 100% valid about 12% of the time. 88% of the time, they need to STFU.

1. I am abrasive. I have the personnel reviews to prove it. I tell the ugly truth without bothering to dress it. In the PC (dysfunctional) world, telling the truth one person does not like makes the soothsayer abrasive. I pooh-pooh the sandwich method. Sandwiches are for lunch, not conversation.

The truth changes often. People who are misbehaving can learn to behave, provided they know they are misbehaving and have an appropriate example of how to behave. I am either an example of what not to do or precisely how to do it. You need to be smart enough to know the difference.

People who practice asshattery will always be cracked in the head. When I tell someone their dumbfuckery is irritating me, the choice is entirely theirs. I will not withdraw my observation nor modify its stark delivery. I will withdraw from their presence if they cannot STFU.

2. I only apologize when I am wrong. Yes, I am wrong occasionally. When someone points out I am wrong, and backs up the claim with facts, I am more than willing to admit I am wrong.

When I admit I am wrong, STFU. I am perfectly capable of changing my mind and actions in the face of reason. If your only purpose is to belittle me for being wrong, I will point out your asshattery. Can you change your mind and actions in the face of reason?

3. I only want to only deal with people whose cajones are visible. No, this does not let my ovary-bearing (with or without them now is irrelevant, especially since I no longer have mine) friends off the hook.

If you can do nothing but bluster and fume, STFU. If you have a brass set and will put your weight behind the solution, I will support you. If you would like me to help you figure out how to affect change, put on a pot of coffee.

4. I hate sheople. Pick your poison: relationships, politics, “news”, celebrity, religion, junk science, pop culture.

If you believe in something or against something, know why you do. I wrote the book which says “Because I said so” is not a real reason. It does not work for children; everyone is someone’s child, including me. If I ask you, tell me. If you cannot tell me, STFU.

5. I love me. If you do not, fine. Bear this in mind: Your opinion of me is not the same as fact, ergo, you should not pollute the opinions of others with your own. STFU.

For the select few who decide to STFU before they exit my life, your silence speaks volumes, although I am certain you believe it only speaks of your superiority. In fact, it speaks of your inability to engage in civilized discourse. If you had known anything about me, you would have known coming to me in honesty is the easiest way for me to see how my actions or inaction affects you. You give up that right (and your cajones) when you choose silence.

Happy fekkin’ New Year.

I will always be

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