Win, Rub It In [Lose, STFU!]

Have you ever been sitting in a job interview, eyes locked with the person on the other side of the table, and they proceed to ask you, "Do you enjoy winning or hate losing?"  Think about it. 

Which is it?

Keep thinking. 

OK that's enough. 

My brain hurts thinking about how much your brain hurts from thinking.  Some people would answer, "Um, C, all of the above?"  But those people are fucking working at McDonald's and Wal-Mart.  I personally have never had this question asked of me and chances are likely neither have you[my reason is that I don't do the whole "jobs" or "interviews" thing].  But if you were to be asked this, say, in an interview setting, what would you answer?  I know my answer.   

Personally, I fucking hate losing.  Not that there are people who enjoy losing, but I just hate losing more than I enjoy winning.  It might suffice to say that I am a sore loser.  Don't jump to conclusions just yet.  I am also a sore winner.  Is there anything wrong with that?  I say no [no, I say!]. 

A simple experiment to explain my hatred of losing or my pleasure of winning would consist of one reading my Twitter feed.  I know, folks, I do tend to blow up Twitter when I am engulfed in a sports game that has even a hint of relevancy to me.  Last night is no exception.  Iowa shat down the throats of those bastard cheese mongers from the armpit of America.  Some people refer to that armpit as Wisconsin.  I have friends, unfortunately, who root for Wisconsin and I made damn sure that they heard my boasting loud and clear after the Hawkeyes swept those milk-guzzling cow fisters. 

In my eyes, that's what is so great about winning [no Charlie Sheen comparisons, please].  Call me callous or inconsiderate.  Call me a sore winner.  Call me obdurate.  Don't call me obdurate.  You don't know what that shit means [neither do I].  No matter what you call me, I'll just take my index finger and gracefully point it towards the scoreboard [bitch].  But don't you dare talk shit to me if my team loses.  Remember, I fucking hate losing. 

Major League Baseball great George Brett once said, "If a tie is like kissing your sister, losing is like kissing your grandmother with her teeth out."  I don't necessarily agree.  I prefer kissing my grandmother with her teeth out [less teeth, more tongue].  I'm kidding.  I'm more inclined to say losing is like kissing your dog two minutes after you just watched your dog eat its own shit.  And your dog's shit consisted of its own puke that it just ate two minutes before that.  Is this getting graphic?  Good.  That is how "shitty" losing is, and I fucking hate it.

Poop jokes are making a comeback with this guy, by the way.  If you were asked, "Do you enjoy winning or hate losing?" how would you answer? [?] Losing means satisfaction for foes and artillery for friends to use against you and your losing team.  There is nothing worse than your friends taking jabs towards your team at your expense [trust me, my friends are about even par with me on the asshole scale].  There is, however, something amusing and fulfilling about doing it to them.  It's a difficult question to answer, but it's reasonable when you break it down.  What's worse: being the "butt of the jokes" or being the hand slapping those jokes all over said "butt"?  Don't be the butt.      

In my obnoxiously hasty opinion there is truly no wrong way to answer this question [no wrong way to eat a Reese's either, they say].  Just think of it this way: if you hate losing, that means you prefer winning.  If you enjoy winning, that means you still prefer winning.  So it's a win-win situation [or "lose-win"].  No matter how you answer, you'll be prepared.  And you'll be prepared simply because you read my blog [you're welcome].  You can't have your cake and eat it too. But if someone else has their own cake, fucking blow out all of their candles.     


HAPPY FRIDAY, FRIENDS!