Oh . . . you must mean the type of average people who win Pulitzers, are board members of top corporations in the World, and the guys who decide whether you should read "The Sociopaths Next Door" or "Mein Kampf" for your next mid-term.

Mein Kampf is a good book

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Every Saint has a Past, Every Sinner has a Future

You can believe it or not, I don't care. But this is not just a factoid in a random book. 4% is a known statistic in the psychiatric community. I don't claim to be an expert on sociopathy, but I'm not going to ignore medical facts just because they don't match with my view of reality.

P.S. I chose to read this book, it isn't assigned reading.

Holy shit, how obvious do I need to be before you "get it"?

Your retort was so vague and random that I couldn't quite discern it's meaning. I can't tell if your trying to be condescending, satirical, ironic, clever, or what? It seemed like a stream of consciousness that I'm sure makes sense to you, but I'm not sure what exactly you are trying to point out or make light of.

fuck her brains out

Yeah I understand that, and I respect that way of teaching very much. But I'm just not sure what epiphany it is he wants me to have. I think I'm missing some key component that makes the post make sense, I just don't know what that might be.

Bitter, maybe just a little. I have just let this girl fuck with my head too much. For that I take responsibility for. I'm goin through some crazy transitions in my life right now. I gotta make things happen.

CK

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success is my only mother fucking option, failure is not.

Thanks bro. Much appreciated.

CK

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success is my only mother fucking option, failure is not.

There's some pretty sweet bromance going on in here

K,

I didn't mean "Holy shit, you dumb ass." I meant, "Holy shit, I've been in agreement with you."

CK,

While you ponder those "crazy transitions", I hope you find the time to eat, walk around . . . and also shit. . . shitting is important. And sleep. Sleeping is good.

One morning several years ago, I called a wise friend of mine for advice . . . Still shit faced, hungry, and dehydrated, I tried to piece together the little I could remember.

I was in Ohau for an extended layover between my frequent trips between Asia and the US. There's a special girl there. Her current local boyfriend decided to invite us for dinner. The guy hangs loose only in terms of playing guitar, drinking tequila, and surfing. In terms of chicks, he's a real jealous type. She decided to make him jealous. He decided to get physical. Lots of blood and bruises. Lots of screaming . . . switching hotels rooms. Police. There was a time when I considered dropping everything for a permanent "layover" in Ohau.

So . . . back to the phone call. The advice: "Go get yourself something to eat. Eat anything."

So I hung up and I walked over 10 steps to Subways. I hadn't noticed but the phone booth was on the patio of Subways . . .I ordered an Italian BMT. I remember telling the girl that I wanted this and that in it but it turned out to be everything but lettuce. I remember the multigrain bread. I remember the oil and vinegar. I chewed slowly and meticulously. I remember the flavors that spread around my tongue. The textures in my mouth. I bit, chewed, and swallowed . . . and afterwards, I walked back to the hotel room. Then I shit. . . but I won't describe the shitting any further.

Then I slept.

I'm no food snob but I'm also no fan of fast food. Even still . . . every once in a while . . . I'll walk over to a Subway and order an Italian BMT . . . and I'll bite, chew . . . swallow.

she might just be trying to initiate a conversation, without quite knowing what to say

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There's always another