This post though prompted by the Daily Prompt: Bookworms – Grab the nearest book. Open it and go to the tenth word… – was actually inspired by reading a great post – I’m Not Normal – by  My Cyber House Rules.


“The dusky aura clears. The Dreamer beholds the light and…” – Nancy McKay Gordon

And… that’s my word.

I start sentences with And, both in speech and in writing, the latter may make those prone to being strict Grammarians flinch as it offends their literary perfection seeking eyes. It’s a secret pleasure hidden inside a displeasure for them, they get a rush of superiority when they spot a grammar crime, so in many ways I am performing an invaluable service by using incorrect grammar.

I like to be of service. To help others. I am more successful at it when it is unintentional, as in I’m doing something for myself and it turns out to benefit others too. I tend to please others that way more often than when I am trying to deliberately please as I often get it wrong and they end up disliking me.

Being disliked for causing displeasure is actually less bothersome to me than the annoyance which I feel at having gone out of my way to do something, which in all probability I did not want to do, for someone who not only is unappreciative of my effort but is standing high up on a hoity-toity pedestal looking down at me. Whatever I did has been deemed not good enough, not what they wanted, even if it is exactly what they asked for, and they are mortally wounded by my paltry offering to their godly self.

Mind you, had I not done anything for them at all, they would still be offended. They rather enjoying being offended or they would not be offended. It is a choice along the lines of to be or not to be. After all, to be offended requires work and skill, takes innumerable hours of practice and perseverance, and is the kind of labour which needs a reward for a job well done.

Some people spend years being offended over one tiny insignificant remark. That is dedication for you! And (there it is) they must keep their will strong, determined not to falter in their sense of justified sulking. Their victims… I mean… their victimisers must be made to suffer, just as they have and are suffering. Small offerings of apology are not to be accepted… well, they can be accepted but it must be made clear that these are in no way, shape, or form adequate enough to appease the deity of being offended.

People who get offended are quite formidable, no wonder they see themselves as gods and goddesses. They are V.I.Ps who always have access to the roped off areas at the Silky Sulk Club.

Self-importance is the drug of choice, being offended is the quickest means of getting high and mighty.

They work hard to earn their status. Think about all the planning and forethought which went into it. The criteria for what things offend must be defined, a course of action to follow when the criteria is met must be calculated, such as what moods to pass through, facial expressions to display, change of vocal tone, body language, and, of course, just in case the person who offended is being a bit thick about recognising what they have done, a not so subtle subtle hints system must be devised. Then once the person has been made aware of their crime, they must be apprised of the tasks they are required to undertake to heal the wound cause by their offense.

Not all professional offended people apprise others of tasks to undertake, as the guessing game they inflict on offenders amuses them greatly under their stern and pouty expression.

The tasks, of course, are different for each level of offense – Slight, Moderate, Strong, Intense, Extreme, End of the World.

Once the groundwork has been laid, the foundations prepared, a temple must be erected, one offense at a time.

To be offended, although it can be done without participation from others, is more fun as a team game. So, team members must be recruited usually via traps set for people to fall into.

Does my bum look big in this? is a trendy offended trap. If you say No, they’ll be offended because they’ll suspect you’re lying to them, and then they’re off down that road to Broodsville. They may even tell you that you must not be afraid to tell them the truth, even if it hurts them, because they would rather be hurt by a truth than hurt by a lie. They’re lying, but that’s allowed, only you’re not allowed to lie… or tell the truth. If you say Yes, they’ll be offended because you told them something which they did not want to hear, and they are very sensitive, and you’re cruel and insensitive. And so on.

There are many variations of this.

Birthdays and anniversaries are common offended traps. The birthday person silently waiting for the nearest and dearest not to remember their birthday, not to buy a card or a present, not to even wish them well. They are upset enough as it is that they are one year closer to that scary place. Not death, death is not ageist. Old. Old is a haunted house of horror, a monster fear, which can sometimes turn people into monsters when they try to avoid it. Botox face is not an attractive look, and is a visual representation of being paralysed by fear.

It takes some people an entire year to get over being offended because you forgot their birthday, they may even celebrate the one year anniversary of the offense on their next birthday, lying in wait for you to forget again, because then they can raise the level of being offended from Moderate – Long face and heavy sigh when reminded of this crime against poor them to Strong – Guilt inducing looks every time they see you (or regular sad face emoticons via inter-net-action).

And so it goes…

“… splendour of an awakening dawn. Nature, in undiscovered loveliness, lifts for Memory the curtain, hanging before the richly piled storehouse and reveals itself, in the great Creative Act of Manifestation.” – Nancy McKay Gordon


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