According to associates, I need to pare down the pear I'm peeling and watch where my core is. Dripping juice leaves trails. Seeds sprout where they shouldn't. Pardon my Scandinavian fervor but fuck you, associates. If freedom is quantifiable, we've lost our journey into space where political parties have no place to hold conventions or bar protesters. I call it like I see it, not the way I want it all the time, because I know I'm not always right. Sometimes I have to put words down to hear what I'm saying and see what others are reading. A switchboard operator doesn't say, "Sorry, I can't connect you to the requested party - you two aren't meant for each other."
Time to watch football and drink beer, a quantifiable good time!
I like my associates but if they get in my way, they're... hmm... how do I word this with legal aplomb? They're no longer in my way later on. I smile on the outside and figure out on the inside where the weak spots on the flanks are to be exploited while I hold your attention. I get what I want using input from others all the time to see if what I want profits just me or my whole species. I aim for the latter but sometimes hit the former on the head.
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