Men Who Say, “Glad to Be Living Rent-Free in Your Head.”

While it’s decidedly more of a dumb cunt thing to say something as “Live Laugh Love”-inspired as, “Glad to be living rent-free in your head,” there are “men” who have fallen prey to the feminine disease that is this “rejoinder” to just about anything deemed “too negative” to be “absorbed.” Such “thoughts” tend to come into play most in the conservative versus liberal death pit, where one party consistently tries to one-up the other for relevancy, therefore grotesquerie. Spoiler alert: neither party will ever be relevant as the entire “system” needs to be blown up and remade.

Going back to when the phrase first started to be regurgitated noticeably ad nauseam, in 2018, many were likely delighted when a “man” such as Michael Avenatti, a.k.a. Stormy Daniels’ lawyer (who would end up embezzling $300,000 from her), responded to Trump’s accusation that he was a “lowlife” (just another white bread 1950s insult the Orange One has brought back, along with “nasty woman” and “thug”), with, “I am thoroughly enjoying living in your head rent-free, Donald Trump.” Just as Lady Caca would echo a similar sentiment as the election dragged on back in November (with Caca performing at his Pittsburgh rally) of this year, the “insult” seems often to be directed at the Orange One, who, make no mistake, is never really allowing anyone in his head “rent-free” except himself. What’s more, do the people offering up this “witty” riposte understand how untenable the idea of being anywhere near Trumpio’s “mind” is? It ain’t no fuckin’ picnic the way it is inside John Malkovich’s head, let us say that. No sir, that is one “sunken place” you do not want to end up in, free or otherwise.

Then, of course, there are the non-famous “men” who feel comfortable using the phrase with women they feel have been dwelling too long on a slight (usually pertaining to ghosting or a heartless and heinous breakup). If they offer you anything at all, it will be this sentiment, as though to make you look like the “freak” for giving so much of a shit that they fueled the fire of your abandonment and trust issues. Because if living in an epoch since Gen X rose to prominence has taught us anything by now, it’s that caring is not “cool.”

And to the “man” who would say to me, “Glad to be living rent-free in your head,” the only response is: “Are you? Are you fucking glad to be living rent-free in my head? Because I really don’t think you fucking would be. I think you’d look for any means necessary to kill your damn self, and would probably find a more than adequate tool to do so as suicide is one of the primary thoughts at the forefront of my mind at any given moment. Along with the contempt of being a misanthrope that sparks random rage flare-ups at the drop of a hat (especially a beret).” So sure, please, enter one of the rooms in my vastly expanding tenement, with so many people inside of it to think about on a loathing basis that pretty soon, I might actually have to start charging.

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