Rectum matters

I seem to have a choice between two thing; either to get extremely mad at someone, or to shake my head in pity at the same someone. It's so easier to get mad, but where would that take me? Nowhere. Pity... that doesn't take me anywhere either, but it at least does not deplete me of my royal energy. So I call a spade a spade, an asshole an asshole, a wanker a wanker, a fart a fart and myself the very royal self. I have never understood what it is about spades, although I don't even understand the asshole and the wanker bit. But then I guess it should make me one happy girl, who in all her finery will not, cannot stoop as low as to understand things like a rectum and in turn things being exhaled out of the rectum. But it still is all about being like a rectum, although why some people like behaving in this manner is beyond me. Now if only they could behave like flowers, butterflies and fairies. Wouldn't the world be a better place indeed?