Phrases that should never be said

“You can trust me.” — if you actually could trust them, you wouldn’t need to say that, now would you?
“Can I kiss you?” — girls understand this a lot more than guys. Would that you could say it, but alas, once you do so, you ruin the moment. Still, it’d be easier to do it if you were certain you had permission. *suspiro*

“Am I happy?” — a quote from 13 Conversations About One Thing which was in turn a John Stuart Mill quote, “Ask yourself if you’re happy and you’ll cease to be so.”

“We need to talk.” — The worst four words in the English language. If everyone ceased using them together, it’d be a better place. A fact of nature: the more someone wants to talk to you, the less you want to talk to them.

“Do you miss me?” — Grr… Just once I want the answer to be “Hell no.” Or “Who is this?”

“If you need someone to talk to, I’m here for you.” — No, just be there and shut up. To date I’ve yet to see anybody take anyone up on this.

“Wokka wokka wokka.” — I don’t know what it means, but my flatmate always says it when she’s talking to her mother in Russian. I find it hard to take any language seriously when they repeat a silly sounding word like that three times. I mean, you never hear English speakers say ointment ointment ointment. Though perhaps we should..

Updated, thanks to Moofruot:
“I could care less.” — because if you could care less, then what’s the point of saying it?

“Remind me to do ‘xxxx’” — because I have a worse memory than you, guranteed, especially when I don’t give a damn about what you need to remember because it’s not mine to remember. Besides, in the process of saying “Remind me to xxxx”, you create a mental cue to remember yourself.

Post more if you can think of them.

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I knew if he kept at it, he’d come up with something of consequence

Quoth the Gabe:

‘you know who I hate? People who say “you know who I hate” then go on to describe an irrelevant characteristic or mannerism. That’s not a who, that’s a what! If you’re going to hate someone for something, hate them for something that’s their fault, like being short or having a terminal illness!

Those sentences should start “you know what I dislike.” That way, when they say something you do, you know to change that. Otherwise, you’re just standing there feeling like a doofus wondering (1) if you do that, (2) if they’ve seen you do that, and (3) if they’ll remember that they’ve seen you to that.
Because if they find out that you do that, it’ll be the end of your relationship. I mean, how can you be friends with somebody you hate?

Unless, of course, they say, “I don’t mean you, I’m talking about people that do [insert razor-thin distinction here],” which never makes it better and leaves you both feeling stupid.’

I actually enjoy hearing people say that, because it’s always such a personal thing that they think or assume you share with them, but at the same time it’s like they’re saying it to themselves.

People are funny. Then again, a person who took more offense might think that they’re just self-centered and judge-mental (ha ha, I like that spelling, ha ha).

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‘Matters of Consequence’

*suspiro*

Moofruot, you’ve done me in. I’ve never read anything deeper or more insightful…

“A sheep–if it eats little bushes, does it eat flowers, too?”
“A sheep,” I answered, “eats anything it finds in its reach.”
“Even flowers that have thorns?”
“Yes, even flowers that have thorns.”
“Then the thorns–what use are they?”
I did not know. At that moment I was very busy trying to unscrew a bolt that had got stuck in my engine. I was very much worried, for it was becoming clear to me that the breakdown of my plane was extremely serious. And I had so little drinking-water left that I had to fear for the worst.
“The thorns–what use are they?”
The little prince never let go of a question, once he had asked it. As for me, I was upset over that bolt. And I answered with the first thing that came into my head:
“The thorns are of no use at all. Flowers have thorns just for spite!”
“Oh!”
Then the little prince flashed back at me, with a kind of resentfulness:
“I don’t believe you! Flowers are weak creatures. They are naive. They reassure themselves as best they can. They believe that their thorns are terrible weapons . . . and you actually believe that the flowers–”
“Oh, no!” I cried. “No, no, no! I don’t believe anything. I answered you with the first thing that came into my head. Don’t you see–I am very busy with matters of consequence!”
He stared at me, thunderstruck.
“Matters of consequence!

The flowers have been growing thorns for millions of years. For millions of years the sheep have been eating them just the same. And is it not a matter of consequence to try to understand why the flowers go to so much trouble to grow thorns which are never of any use to them? Is the warfare between the sheep and the flowers not important? Is this not of more consequence than a fat red-faced gentleman’s sums? And if I know–I, myself–one flower which is unique in the world, which grows nowhere but on my planet, but which one little sheep can destroy in a single bite some morning, without even noticing what he is doing–Oh! You think that is not important!”
His face turned from white to red as he continued:
“If some one loves a flower, of which just one single blossom grows in all the millions and millions of stars, it is enough to make him happy just to look at the stars. He can say to himself, ‘Somewhere, my flower is there . . .’ But if the sheep eats the flower, in one moment all his stars will be darkened . . . And you think that is not important!”

“I am drinking,” replied the tippler, with a lugubrious air.
“Why are you drinking?” demanded the little prince.
“So that I may forget,” replied the tippler.
“Forget what?” inquired the little prince, who already was sorry for him.
“Forget that I am ashamed,” the tippler confessed, hanging his head.
“Ashamed of what?” insisted the little prince, who wanted to help him.
“Ashamed of drinking!”

“If I owned a silk scarf,” he said, “I could put it around my neck and take it away with me. If I owned a flower, I could pluck that flower and take it away with me. But you cannot pluck the stars from heaven . . .”
“No. But I can put them in the bank.”
“Whatever does that mean?”
“That means that I write the number of my stars on a little paper. And then I put this paper in a drawer and lock it with a key.”
“And that is all?”
“That is enough,” said the businessman.
“It is entertaining,” thought the little prince. “It is rather poetic. But it is of no great consequence.”

“To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world . . .

now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye“

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Word Verification Goes On, Word Verification Goes Off

Hmm… I’ve been getting an awful lot of SPAM-like commenting. So far, I’ve refused to go to any of the websites listed on the count that real people wouldn’t put their website addresses up unless they just wanted hits and you know how I hate being a statistic.

But I won’t judge, at least not yet. I’ll wait until these people stop by again. Then I might visit their site and get to know them.

It’s very anti-social of me, but I don’t particularly want my site to become popular through artificial means. I’m quite anti-advertising. I figure if something is worth reading, people will read it, if not, then no.

Am I wrong in thinking that? I mean, what is an ad but an admittance that not enough people would know about something without the ad?

No, if I’m going to be recognized, it needs to be for something. Perhaps I’ll submit something to that travelling carnival I hear so much about…

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