Don’t tell me what to do. You’re not the boss of me. There’s only one person that’s the boss of me. There’s only one person that I’ll listen to. And that one person is nobody. I won’t listen to anybody. If you ever tell me what to do I’ll just do the exact opposite. Unless of course you’re thinking that can fool me into doing whatever you want by telling me to do the opposite. In this case I’ll recognize your true intent behind the clever semantic trick, and I’ll do what you’re telling me to do, but only because I’ll know that you’re really wanting me to do the opposite and so, yeah, just do me a favor and don’t tell me to do or not to do anything, because I’ll never listen. Like I’ll listen, I’ll hear you, but I’ll willfully do whatever it is that you don’t want me to do, regardless of how you phrase it. What I’m getting at here is, you’re not in charge of me.

I’m not being defiant. Well, I am being defiant. Or maybe you’re the one being defiant. And don’t even try to be nice to me, because it’s still bossing me around, and I’m not somebody that you can just come up to and say, “Hey Rob, it’s so nice to see you. Have a seat and let me get you a drink.” All right? Because, one, don’t tell me to sit down. If I want to sit down, I’ll sit down without you having to tell me to have a seat. And two, let you get me a snack? How about let me let you watch me get myself a snack. Because who says you’re in charge? What are you the mayor?

I went to vote for President last month, and when I got the ballot, it told me to “fill in the box completely.” Stupid piece of paper. If I’m not going to listen to a person, if I’m going to ignore that joker who tried to get me to stand in line, to sign my name at the bottom of that form, to stop asking other people who they were going to vote for, to please stand behind the curtain, to give the other people their privacy while casting their votes, what makes you think I’m going to listen to a dumb piece of paper? I don’t get bossed around by people, I’m definitely not getting bossed around by a piece of paper. You know who wrote that piece of paper? Some clown, trying to tell everybody what to do. You know where that piece of paper came from? A tree. Who do you think I am, standing on line all day so I can get told what to do by a tree? By a dead tree?

Come on, I bought a can of Coke and I was just about to take a big sip when I noticed on top of the can, on top of the logo it said, “Enjoy” Coca-Cola. Get the fuck out of here. Why don’t you enjoy Coca-Cola? I’m the one who paid a dollar for that can. And now I’m getting forced into reading some sort of a simplified instruction manual? Enjoy? I made a grimace, a really strong face and I choked that Coke down, purposefully making myself laugh halfway through that big gulp, laughing so hard that the Coke, all of those bubbles, they got caught up in my nose and started spraying everywhere, and it hurt, it was all up my sinuses, and there was Coke all over my hands, and it dried and just got really sticky. Nosiree, I most certainly did not enjoy that can of Coke. And I went online afterwards to write a strongly worded email to Coke, to tell them to just sell me a can of soda without all of the fascism, the bossing around, but I got distracted by a feature on the web site that showed pictures of Coke cans throughout the ages, and this one can from a long time ago, it didn’t even say “Enjoy,” it just said, “Drink.” Fuck that shit.

Do you know how much of a fit I used to throw in kindergarten when my teacher put on the hokey pokey? Put this in, put that in, do this, do that. I can’t bring anything on an airplane, because I’m not about to let some flight attendant tell me to put it away during takeoff. When I’m driving I’ll stop at every green light and go at every red one. What else … do you know how many trains I’ve missed, walking up to the car when that conductor goes, “All aboard!” Chill out dude, and don’t tell me what to do. So I’ll just turn around. You get all aboard. Bossy control freak jerk.

I just donated a pint of blood and smoked a whole pack of cigarettes right after. Because try and guess what that nurse told me to avoid for about an hour or so after the donation. Just guess. Yep. Smoking. Just, seriously, don’t boss me around. Just stop telling me what to do. Just leave me alone and don’t talk to me and don’t tell me to do or not do anything.