Failure to Comply

You know, I have a problem.  The problem is that I don't think most rules apply to me.  This is not because I consider myself "above the law" or any other presidential signing statement of absurdity.  For example, I don't park in handicapped spots, piss in public places, grope women in large anonomous crowds, or curb my dog on the neighbors' lawn.  None of that.  I pay my bills on time, don't cheat on my taxes and I'm mostly courteous to everyone I meet.    However, if you expect me to discover, read, track, absorb and honor your arbitrary set of rules that you post for your church, home, business, sporting event, social network...forget it.  Life is too short.  And don't give me that look either.  The one where your eyes bulge round and  teeth bare white abject horror as if you caught me eating my own vomit.  Especially when I've done something like oh...I don't know... not have the exact fucking change or didn't take off my shoes before stepping on your hardwood floor.  Give me a break.  Every chump knows that a rule is just a petty system of control.  The more rules you have the more rigid and brittle you are.  Let's face it "rule-maker"  Your just that much more terrified, angry and disappointed than the rest of us.   Me?  I'm your worst nightmare.  Not because I'm looking to "break all the rules" while I wear my black leather jacket and give you the finger.  No it's because I honestly don't care one bit about your rules.   Except the one where you feel guilty enough to offer me a piece of your juicy-fruit.  That one I kinda like.