Dear Right Hand
Dear Right hand,
You’re a dick. I mean. Actually. I shouldn’t insult dick. Especially when we don’t have one.
You always act like you’re in charge. You always take the leads on things. You always make me feel some how inferior and you never give me any real visibility or responsibility.  Ok, so maybe I’m not as sophisticated and skilled as you - but come on. The only tasks you seem to give me these days involve scratching ass or picking nose. At least ass and nose are appreciative. You don’t even help me stretch my muscles by playing games with the wii nunchuck. In *fact* I get more action clicking on hotkeys on WOW then anything actually vigorous. And that stuff, I can do in my sleep.
Ooooh…consecrate ground. Woooo heal self. Weeee cast judgement. Blah blah blah blah blah. I mean the only time I feel like yo treat me as an equal is when we’re typing sometihng. If it’s hand writing something, I just lay there. Doing what? Acting as a gawddamn paper weight to hold the paper still.
And you *wonder* why I haven’t been involved or around? HAH! HAH! i say.
So if you’re saying you want more from me then you’re going to have to give me more to do. Why *YES* I *DO* believe we can be equals. I believe we *CAN* become ambidextrous. WHY DO YOU ALWAYS CONDESCEND TO ME OTHERWISE?!
So yeah. You’re a jerk.
And Phew, did that feel good to say to you.
The Left Hand.
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