Writing

10 Myths About Introverts

March 26, 2012 | 6 Comments » | Topics: Life, Writing |

introverts

Myth #1 – Introverts don’t like to talk.
This is not true. Introverts just don’t talk unless they have something to say. They hate small talk. Get an introvert talking about something they are interested in, and they won’t shut up for days.

Myth #2 – Introverts are shy.
Shyness has nothing to do with being an Introvert. Introverts are not necessarily afraid of people. What they need is a reason to interact. They don’t interact for the sake of interacting. If you want to talk to an Introvert, just start talking. Don’t worry about being polite.

Myth #3 – Introverts are rude.
Introverts often don’t see a reason for beating around the bush with social pleasantries. They want everyone to just be real and honest. Unfortunately, this is not acceptable in most settings, so Introverts can feel a lot of pressure to fit in, which they find exhausting.

Myth #4 – Introverts don’t like people.
On the contrary, Introverts intensely value the few friends they have. They can count their close friends on one hand. If you are lucky enough for an introvert to consider you a friend, you probably have a loyal ally for life. Once you have earned their respect as being a person of substance, you’re in.

Myth #5 – Introverts don’t like to go out in public.
Nonsense. Introverts just don’t like to go out in public FOR AS LONG. They also like to avoid the complications that are involved in public activities. They take in data and experiences very quickly, and as a result, don’t need to be there for long to “get it.” They’re ready to go home, recharge, and process it all. In fact, recharging is absolutely crucial for Introverts.

Myth #6 – Introverts always want to be alone.
Introverts are perfectly comfortable with their own thoughts. They think a lot. They daydream. They like to have problems to work on, puzzles to solve. But they can also get incredibly lonely if they don’t have anyone to share their discoveries with. They crave an authentic and sincere connection with ONE PERSON at a time.

Myth #7 – Introverts are weird.
Introverts are often individualists. They don’t follow the crowd. They’d prefer to be valued for their novel ways of living. They think for themselves and because of that, they often challenge the norm. They don’t make most decisions based on what is popular or trendy.

Myth #8 – Introverts are aloof nerds.
Introverts are people who primarily look inward, paying close attention to their thoughts and emotions. It’s not that they are incapable of paying attention to what is going on around them, it’s just that their inner world is much more stimulating and rewarding to them.

Myth #9 – Introverts don’t know how to relax and have fun.
Introverts typically relax at home or in nature, not in busy public places. Introverts are not thrill seekers and adrenaline junkies. If there is too much talking and noise going on, they shut down. Their brains are too sensitive to the neurotransmitter called Dopamine. Introverts and Extroverts have different dominant neuro-pathways. Just look it up.

Myth #10 – Introverts can fix themselves and become Extroverts.
A world without Introverts would be a world with few scientists, musicians, artists, poets, filmmakers, doctors, mathematicians, writers, and philosophers. That being said, there are still plenty of techniques an Extrovert can learn in order to interact with Introverts. (Yes, I reversed these two terms on purpose to show you how biased our society is.) Introverts cannot “fix themselves” and deserve respect for their natural temperament and contributions to the human race. In fact, one study (Silverman, 1986) showed that the percentage of Introverts increases with IQ.

(via)

6 Comments »

How To Reject A Rejection Letter Like A BOSS

February 3, 2012 | No Comments » | Topics: Funny Pictures, Writing |

Herbert A Millington
Chair – Graduate Studies Committee
Whatsa Matta University
College Hill, MA 01610

Dear Professor Millington,

Thank for your letter of April 16. After careful consideration, I regret to inform you that I am unable to accept your refusal to offer me admission to your department.

This year I have been particularly fortunate in receiving an unusually large number of rejection letters. With such a varied and promising field of candidates it is impossible for me to accept all refusals.

Despite W.M.U.’s outstanding qualifications and previous experience in rejecting applicants, I find that your rejection does not meet my needs at this time. Therefore, I will join the ranks of graduate students in your department this September. I look forward to seeing you then.

Best of luck in rejecting future applicants.

Sincerely,

Chris L. Jensen

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The Paradox Of Life

January 31, 2012 | No Comments » | Topics: TRUTH, Writing |

sunset

The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider Freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.

We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.

We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.

We’ve learned how to make a living, but not a life. We’ve added years to life not life to years. We’ve been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We’ve done larger things, but not better things.

We’ve cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We’ve conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We’ve learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.

These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete…

Remember; spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever.

Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side.

Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn’t cost a cent.

Remember, to say, ‘I love you’ to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you.

Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again.

Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.

AND ALWAYS REMEMBER:

Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.

-Anonymous

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For All Those That Grew Up Watching Nickelodeon….The Ultra Depressing Reality Of Rugrats Exposed

November 21, 2011 | No Comments » | Topics: Funny Pictures, Writing |

rugrats

The babies in Rugrats don’t exist and are products of Angelica’s imagination because her mother ignores her and her relationship with her father is shallow and parasitic. In reality, Chuckie died along with his mother, which is why Chaz is such a nervous wreck. Tommy was a stillborn, which causes Stu to sit in the basement making toys for his son that never had a chance to live, and the DeVilles had an abortion. Angelica couldn’t decide whether the unborn child would be male or female and thus simply invented the same character in her head twice with different genders.” I’m not sure about the original source, I’ve seen it posted all over the place. But yeah. Easily disproved, but creepy.

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Quite Possibly The Funniest Thing You Will Read Today

November 8, 2011 | 6 Comments » | Topics: Funny Pictures, Writing |

men vs women

A Creative Writing professor from the University of Colorado told his class one day (an actual class assignment):

“Today we will experiment with a new form called tandem story.  The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting next to his or her desk.

As homework tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a short story.  You will e–mail your partner that paragraph and send another copy to me.  The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story and send it back, also sending another copy to me.  The first person will add a third paragraph, and so on back-and-forth.

Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent.  There is to be absolutely NO talking outside the e-mails and anything you wish to say must be written in the e-mail.  The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached.”

The following was actually turned in by two of his English students:

Rebecca (Bold)

Bill (regular)

THE STORY:

(first paragraph by Rebecca)

At first, Laurie couldn’t decide which kind of tea she wanted.  The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said , in happier times, that he liked chamomile.  But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl.  His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.

(second paragraph by Bill)

Meanwhile, Advanced Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent on sweaty night over a year ago. “A. S. Harris to Geostation 17,” he said into his transgalactic communicator. “Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far …” But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship’s cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.

(Rebecca)

He bumped his head and died immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for physically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feeling for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. “Congress Passes Laws Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel,” Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspaper to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. “Why must one lose one’s innocence to become a woman?” she pondered wistfully.

(Bill)

Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu’udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles.  The dimwitted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty had left the Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race.  Within two hours after passage of the treaty the Anu’udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them. They swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized even poor, stupid Laurie.

(Rebecca)

This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic semi-literate adolescent.

(Bill)

Yeah? Well, my writing partner is a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are literally the equivalent of Valium. “Oh, shall I have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of [email protected]#KING TEA???  Oh no, what am I to do?  I’m such an air headed bimbo. I guess I’ve read too many Danielle Steele novels!”

(Rebecca)

[email protected]

(Bill)

B*tch!

(Rebecca)

[email protected]#* YOU _ YOU NEANDERTHAL!!

(Bill)

In your dreams, Ho. Go drink some tea.

(TEACHER)

A+ – I really liked this one.

6 Comments »

I Never Got Why…

October 4, 2011 | 5 Comments » | Topics: Awesomeness, Writing |

suicide

I never got why people would kill themselves. If you want to die you obviously don’t give a shiet. like, about anyone. ‘cause if there is anyone who loves you, you don’t give a FCUK about them, or hurting them, and if there’s not, there’s no one to give a shiet about.

So instead of killing yourself why don’t you just get the fcuk out? leave the basement, leave your house, leave the motherfcuking country. go on an adventure. spend your time doing something awesome, like tracking down some terrorists. go be james bond. go fcuk up a shark with a harpoon. danger? fcuk that, you were going up against 100% death rate before, you’re being safe now. fcuk EVERYTHING, man, the world is your oyster.

Sometimes I wish I was suicidal. I’d pull the barrel out of my mouth and point it in the air, start a revolution, LIVE. move to barcelona, hit the bars, bang some chicks. STDs, who fcuking gives a shiet?

And then when I’m done, maybe I wouldn’t want to kill myself, ‘cause I’ve seen how beautiful the world is.

5 Comments »

Attention All Aliens!

August 23, 2011 | No Comments » | Topics: Funny Pictures, Writing |

alien

“We poison our air and water to weed out the weak!

We set off fission bombs in our only biosphere!

We nailed our God to a stick!

DON’T FCUK WITH THE HUMAN RACE!

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Top 10 Signs You’re Whipped

August 22, 2011 | 12 Comments » | Topics: List, TRUTH, Writing |

pussy whipped

There comes a time in a man’s life when he should grow up and get serious about a relationship. Maybe that’s true for some, but surely that doesn’t mean you have to submit to the ways of a dominant and controlling woman, does it? You don’t have to cower in the corner with your emasculated tail between your legs. Hell no!

If you’ve ever wondered whether or not you’re one of the many unfortunate suckers out there who’ve joined the ranks of the whipped (and are probably being mocked and ridiculed for it to boot), take a look at this list of top 10 signs you’re whipped; if you recognize any of them, for God’s sake, man up and do something about it.

Number 10
Going for a beer requires permission It’s not just going for a beer that requires her permission, so does every other trivial excursion. In the mind of your power-hungry girlfriend, going for a beer with your friends spells out trouble and, therefore, it’s heavily frowned upon. All of a sudden, you can’t even pop into a pub for a quick one at the end of the day without facing a barrage of harassment when you return home. Subsequently, you’ve stopped doing it to avoid the hassle that, for the record, makes you a spineless pansy. This is a big one boys, but our signs you’re whipped doesn’t end here.

(more…)

12 Comments »

7 Lessons From the World’s Greatest Minds

August 19, 2011 | 2 Comments » | Topics: Motivation, Writing |

7 great lessons from 7 great minds

Courtesy of IlluminatedMind.net

Have you ever wished you could go back in time and have a conversation with one of the greatest minds in history? Well, you can’t sorry, they’re dead. Unless of course you’re clairaudient, be my guest. But for the rest of us, we can still refer to the words they left behind.

Even though these great teachers have passed on, their words still live, and in them their wisdom. I’ve made a list of seven what I believe are some of the greatest teachings by the world’s greatest minds.

1. Realizing Your Dreams

“If you don’t know where you are going, you’ll end up someplace else.”
– Lawrence J. Peter

In order for us to achieve our dreams, we must have a vision of our goals. Writing down our dreams and creating a list of actions helps us stick to our plan. As it’s said “if you can’t measure it, you can’t manage it”. When we turn our goals into measurable actions, we gain clarity and are able to see the necessary steps we must take in order to achieve them.

Action: Visualize a life of your wildest dreams. What did you dream of doing when you were a child? What would you do if you had a million dollars? Create a vision for your goals and start breaking them down into small actions that you can take on a day by day basis.

(more…)

2 Comments »

The Best Damn Divorce Letter Ever

August 15, 2011 | 2 Comments » | Topics: Funny Pictures, Writing |

middle finger

Dear Connie,

I know the counselor said we shouldn’t contact each other during our “cooling off” period, but I couldn’t wait anymore. The day you left, I swore I’d never talk to you again. But that was just the wounded little boy in me talking. Still, I never wanted to be the first one to make contact. In my fantasies, it was always you who would come crawling back to me. I guess my pride needed that. But now I see that my pride’s cost me a lot of things. I’m tired of pretending I don’t miss you. I don’t care about looking bad anymore. I don’t care who makes the first move as long as one of us does.

Maybe it’s time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt. And this is what my heart says: “There’s no one like you, Connie.” I look for you in the eyes and breasts of every woman I see, but they’re not you. They’re not even close. Two weeks ago, I met this girl at Flamingos and brought her home with me. I don’t say this to hurt you, but just to illustrate the depth of my desperation.

She was young, maybe 19, with one of those perfect bodies that only youth and maybe a childhood spent ice skating can give you. Every man’s dream, right? But as I sat on the couch being blown by this stunner, I thought, look at the stuff we’ve made important in our lives. It’s all so superficial.

What does a perfect body mean? Does it make her better in bed? Well, in this case, yes, but you see what I’m getting at. Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better heart than my moderately attractive Connie? I doubt it. And I’d never really thought of that before.

I don’t know, maybe I’m just growing up a little. Later, after I’d tossed her about a half a pint of throat yogurt, I found myself thinking, “Why do I feel so drained and empty?” It wasn’t just her flawless technique or her slutty, shameless hunger, but something else. Some nagging feeling of loss. Why did it feel so incomplete? And then it hit me. It didn’t feel the same because you weren’t there to watch. Do you know what I mean? Nothing feels the same without you. Jesus, Connie, I’m just going crazy without you. And everything I do just reminds me of you.

Do you remember Carol, that single mom we met at the Holiday Inn lounge last year? Well, she dropped by last week with a pan of lasagna. She said she figured I wasn’t eating right without a woman around. I didn’t know what she meant till later, but that’s not the real story.

Anyway, we had a few glasses of wine and the next thing you know, we’re banging away in our old bedroom. And this tart’s a total monster in the sack. She’s giving me everything, you know, like a real woman does when she’s not hung up about her weight or her career and whether the kids can hear us. And all of a sudden, she spots that tilting mirror on your grandmother’s old vanity. So she puts it on the floor and we straddle it, right, so we can watch ourselves. And it’s totally hot, but it makes me sad, too. Cause I can’t help thinking, “Why didn’t Connie ever put the mirror on the floor? We’ve had this old vanity for what, 14 years, and we never used it as a sex toy.”

Saturday, your sister drops by with my copy of the restraining order. I mean, Vicky’s just a kid and all, but she’s got a pretty good head on her shoulders and she’s been a real friend to me during this painful time. She’s given me lots of good advice about you and about women in general. She’s pulling for us to get back together, Connie, she really is. So we’re doing Jell-O shots in a hot bubble bath and talking about happier times. Here’s this teenage girl with the same DNA as you and all I can do is think of how much she looked like you when you were 18. And that just about makes me cry.

And then it turns out Vicky’s really into the whole anal thing, that gets me to thinking about how many times I pressured you about trying it and how that probably fueled some of the bitterness between us. But do you see how even then, when I’m thrusting inside your baby sister’s cinnamon ring, all I can do is think of you? It’s true, Connie. In your heart you must know it.

Don’t you think we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances away and start fresh? I think we can.

If you feel the same please, please, please let me know. Otherwise, can you let me know where the fcuking remote is.

Love, Dan

2 Comments »