This is one of those rare instances where the photo says it all
Men explaining things to me is my kink
In a patronizing way, like I’m a dumb child who can’t understand the most basic of concepts
Hey, you. Yeah, you! Over here! No, seriously, come— oh, come on. Really?
[rummages through coat pocket]
Over here! Come here, dummy… follow the jingling keys! That’s right, ya distracted little nitwit. C’mere. Jesus, finally!
Now, I know you’re… well, I believe your family’s euphemism is “easily tasked.” And we should all just be thrilled that you manage to stay alive in a world full of men with big keyrings and dark intentions. Hoping for you to communicate seamlessly with people whose emotional landscapes are larger than a playground is probably aiming a bit high, and I try to always bear that in mind.
But we put periods at the end of our sentences in this house, young lady! How else do we know when you’ve finally run out of stupid?