September 28, 2013 in Dag

Turning my nose up at snobs

I’m a terrible snob.

I don’t care about what people wear. You can look as shabby as you want. I’m not going to judge you harshly. 

I don’t care about the music people listen to. Classical or pop. Hip and cool or golden oldies. Whatever gets you tapping your toes is fine by me.

I don’t care about what people eat. If haute cuisine is your thing, that’s cool. If you’re more partial to McDonalds, that’s cool too.

I don’t even care what people read. If it’s airport fiction or supposed literary masterpieces, it really makes no difference to me. (admittedly, I’d prefer it if more people were reading books by me, but that’s another story)

But despite this apparent tolerance, I’m still a terrible snob. There’s one thing in particular that gets me turning my nose up, every time I witness it.

That thing is snobbery.

I can’t stand snobs. I despise them. Those people who think they are better than other people, just because they wear more expensive clothes, or believe their taste in music or books or whatever somehow makes them superior to others.

I judge that kind of behaviour really harshly. I definitely believe that I’m superior to people like that. I guess you could say that I’m snobbish about snobs.

Of course, I have to live by me own standards. If I’m snobbish about snobs, this means that I am a snob, which means I have to be snobbish about myself. I definitely think that I’m far better than myself. If I ever see me walking down the street, I’ll always turn my nose up at myself.

And now that I’ve managed to completely confuse myself, I think I’ll go and have a long lie down.

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