This is my seventh installment on how to significantly stall your life. I’m talkin’ about bringing your thing to a grinding halt with rank ineffectiveness. Yes, I’m giving you, the would be loser, the keys to a crap-laden existence. There are very few people, other than me, that will actually draft for you, the decidedly defective person, a blue print on how to win at losing. I can not hold back any longer, but I must, under a divine afflatus, help you to foul your soul.
This week’s ditty for the deft inept person is to engraft into your psyche the habit of being a self obsessed me-monkey. If you’re serious about living a life that will historically frame you out as a flop then you must get this into your craw: Nobody and nothing matters but you and your little world.
Matter of fact; try saying the above, out loud and with passion.
Do it now.
C’mon say with me… “Nobody and nothing matters but me and my little world.” Get it right, not God, not your spouse or kids, not your nation, not your state, not your city, not the godless, not the poor, nor the infirmed, it is just you and you alone that matters. Say it one more time, nobody and nothing matters but me and my little world.
There you go. Wasn’t that b-e-a-YOU-tiful?
Did you feel the forces of darkness giving you a power surge? Pretty cool, eh? This new found narcissistic motivation will take you right to the grave, culturally ineffective, alone, unloved, and without honor. Which is what you, the loser, are pursuing, right?
Uncut narcissism nukes the potential threat of greatness. True significance demands selfless sacrifice in the pursuit of the grand and noble and since you have made a decisive leap away from importance you must avoid sacrifices and selflessness like you would a ski parka in Miami in mid-August. Your job is stay tuned to the petty minutiae that occupies that dipstick thing you call your life.
Let me give you an example on how to behave in way that is in keeping with a narcissistic bent. Take me for example. I had one heck of a week last week but I think I kept a pretty good distance from greatness. Here’s how I handled my many challenges. Check it out.
1. On Monday one my maids messed up my African curio collection after I assiduously arranged them on the antique bookshelves I bought from the Sultan of Obama-maumau. Just for that, I had her knee caps shattered by Shawn Eckardt.
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