So I was talking to my room mates the other day about how, sometimes when I'm just sitting and thinking, I have these strong urges to do mean things. For example, yesterday I was sitting listening to B-Rob play expertly on the piano while drinking a large cup and raspberry lemonade when all of a sudden, I really wanted to run up and dump the cup down his back. Perhaps it would've been funny for a little bit, but mostly it would've been mean.
It doesn't necessarily have to be me doing the mean things in my imagination though. Every Tuesday, a few friends and I do our econ homework on the balcony of the Terrace in the Wilk, and every week, they announce the Terrace is closing that everyone needs to leave. Without fail, there are always several people who have to be told several times and that they need to leave. Last Tuesday, I thought it would be a much more effecting technique to hire a squad of BB-gun snipers to encourage sluggish deserters to gather up their things a little quicker.
I don't think that I'm a very violent person. The only time I can remember losing control and hitting someone was once when I hit my younger brother after he dropped a really big book on my bare foot. (Sorry about that.) I don't even like violent movies (unless it's artistic choreographed violence, like West Side Story). The most violent game I played growing up was WarCraft, which really isn't that bad I think.
I used to think that it was normal; you know, one of the manly urges when you just gotta kill something, (fix things, cook outdoors, . . .) but after talking to my roommates, I'm beginning to think otherwise. They seem to have imaginations about what they would do if someone broke into the house or jumped them spontaneously (which is good that they exists when there are people like me who just might).
In any case, it turns out that I'm an awful person. Oh, well. As long as I don't actually do any of those things, I don't think anyone is allowed to throw me in jail.
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Maybe it's not related to gender; maybe it runs in the family. For example, the other day my husband and I were having a romantic dinner at Outback Steakhouse (thanks to Older Brother for the gift card). Above our table hung a lamp shaped like a wide and shallow parabaloid. I had the urge to grab my husband's head and shove it into the lamp. I wasn't angry at him or anything; I just was curious what would happen. I got the idea from A Muppet Movie when that mad scientist tries to fry Kermit the Frog's brain.
Don't worry, I didn't do it.
Actually, I guess our violent tendencies might not be a family trait either. It could just be that darn media influencing our impressionable minds. We gotta keep those Muppets out of our homes!
I agree with Alycin. Once I was eating lunch in the cafeteria and a girl came over and started talking to my friend. I had the urge to take my sandwich apart and stick it in her face.
I didn't do it either, so if it does run in the family we got some self control to go with it.
I don't remember you hitting me. I do remember doing all sorts of violence to you though. I had a horrifically violent childhood. I think as a sort of reaction to my childhood, I don't think of doing mean things very much anymore, but I still think that pointless violence is absolutely hilarious. I still love three stooges.
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