Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Me and Braggy McGee

I don't get braggarts. I've never understood what causes people to toot their own horns or try to one-up others in a conversation, and I've noticed that it starts really young. There's a kid up the street, and because of his multiple annoying qualities let's go ahead and call him Little Douchebag - LD. This kid is always bragging and lying to Danny, and he blatantly lies to all of us in the process. It's kind of funny, except that my kid actually buys his BS and I don't like how that makes him feel sometimes. One time LD came over and started spouting off about how he plays Rock Band on the expert level, which is total BS. I love the game, but only play on Medium difficulty - the Expert level is ridiculously hard!

So we just said, "Sure, ok LD, have at it." and watched as he got boo'ed off the stage over and over again within seconds of starting a song. Jim and I just stifled our smirks and asked if maybe he'd like to try a different level, and the little turd actually lied again and said that he was used to Guitar Hero (which is much better, in his opinion), so naturally it's our game which is at fault, and not his superior playing skills.

It's easy to see right through 'em, isn't it? I wonder if they know that we see that they're full of shit?

Jim seems to attract the boastful type to him like flies to honey. Perhaps it's because he is so confident and non-competitive that they feel the need to best him. IDK, all I know is that the worst tall-tale-tellers I've ever met have been acquaintances of my husband. His cousin B used to be the WORST for that. He spoke fast, like a coke head, which only added to his resemblance to Quentin Tarrantino. B loved to brag about himself and his accomplishments, which gets old about 90 seconds into a conversation.

Last weekend Jim went to Oregon for the wedding of an old college friend. A second wedding, as it turns out, since all of his college buddies are now moving on to their 2nd unions as they approach their 40's. Jim was really surprised when his friend T started yacking about his sex life with his new girlfriend, in vivid detail. This old friend T, whose wedding we went out of our way to attend in fraking Delaware just a few years ago, is newly single and dating a gymnast.

I'm sure you can see where this is going. Gymnasts are flexible. She is younger and they are enjoying the first blooms of romance, so they get it on like horny teenagers several times per day. The bastards. T apparently went into embarrassing detail about fantastic positions, frequency, and of course, tall tales of his own sexual prowess. He did his best to make his audience of college buddies believe that he is an epic and skilled lover who "opened the door and turned on the light" for his girlfriend, sexually. Yes, he actually used those words. *retch*



I was trying to think of something I might have been guilty of bragging about recently; aside from my glorious rack, that is. I'm sure I've bragged about my kids, but I reserve the right to do that whenever I feel like it. ;) Another thing I thought of was kind of bragging to myself, which I'm not sure counts. See, there's this radio program that I keep catching every morning after I get D on the bus - a caller has to answer 5 pop culture trivia questions and then the female DJ tries to answer the same questions. So far, no one has beat Kennedy the DJ, but I know the answers every day! I need to get that number and call in myself, because I'm convinced that I can beat Kennedy's smug ass.

Anywhooooo, thus ends my rant on bragging. We are all guilty of it from time to time, I'm sure. I'm not talking about the casual, recreational braggarts. I'm talking about the pros - the blowhards, the self-involved yahoos. Knock it off! It's unbecoming and narcissistic, and nobody buys it anyway.

I'm watching you....