Sarcastic

I am sarcastic.  Whether I’m writing or talking, thinking (MOST of what I think is sarcastic) or writing Facebook status, there is a good chance what I have to say will have a hint of sarcasm found somewhere within.

Don’t get me wrong, I know when to be serious, when sarcasm belongs and when it doesn’t, and I do my very best to NEVER use my sarcasm to hurt someone.  It’s meant to make you laugh (like when I write a letter to Telus, the telemarketers who call, Telus, the dude at Starbucks, Telus…those are sarcasm based) or think.  I also tend to use sarcasm when I’m angry which IS hurtful, and I do have to work on curbing.  Sometimes it’s like I can’t help it and sarcasm oozes out as I disagree with you on the point of emptying the entire dishwasher before you put the dirty dishes in. I’m aware this is destructive, don’t worry.

Now, I also have the ability to put my foot in my mouth quite well and I do it often, but it’s not usually my sarcasm to blame.  More often than not, my verbal screw ups have to do with the fact that my mouth moves faster than my brain, thusly causing me to say things I haven’t thought through first, and jamming my foot squarely into my trap.

I also appreciate sarcasm.  As long as it’s done tastefully (not to make someone feel demeaned or hurt) it makes me giggle.  It’s the part of me that is directly connected to my Dad (bet you didn’t know that Dad, did you?), it’s why we can laugh together and be silly and why I’ve taped this to my desk.  Because I’m pretty sure if I hadn’t, he’d have nabbed it my by now…