On unveiled cruelty

As is fairly evident from the very existence of this blog, I complain about things. I can't see the point in patching things up, pretending they are wonderful, if they are fundamentally flawed. If something isn't cooked properly, what on earth is the point in eating the entire thing and only saying a few days later well, you know, it wasn't quite warm enough... If I have to queue for half an hour in a supermarket to pay for the sum total of three goods, I feel at liberty to point out the multiple errors that have led to this unnecessary delay. I've ranted about planes being late, people being self-pitying, probably somewhere I'll have mentioned in passing that the weather in this particular part of the globe isn't exactly ideal for, well, anything. Other than the umbrella industry, I suppose.
I feel compelled to make comments about the people around me; as far as I'm concerned, there is nothing wrong with sitting on a bench in a park and quietly berating all about me for a good hour. Remarking on their dress sense, their unnecessary lardiness, the manner in which they walk, the way they laugh, a particularly unfortunate haircut. Two key points: first, they never hear what I say, and second, given that I spend the majority of my existence in the same jeans and jumper, the comments are invariably to some degree describable as 'tongue in cheek'. My generalised statements about an entire group of people are just that - generalised statements, intended either for my personal amusement or to further some ridiculous argument I'll have gotten myself into.
If I've been unfortunate enough to get to know a person - in other words, I'm not making assumptions about them - then I feel justified in making remarks about said person's personality. Probably not directly to them, but rather to someone who has no connection whatsoever with that person so comments wont get back to them. If I dislike someone, I make a concerted effort to avoid them. I hate insipid remarks, fake smiles, false conversations as if I actually give a damn about their annoying life, and am fairly effective at getting the impression across to people that frankly, I just don't want to know them.
What I do NOT do is make a remark about somebody's personality that is for one, unfounded and for two, is regarding somebody I do not know. I'm not so sure why I'm so incensed by the accusation that has been laid at my door this evening - I know it came from somebody who knows the sum total of bugger all about me, and that anybody who DOES know me would never make such a remark. Am fuming.
On a totally different note, heard a completely stupid thing on the radio today: top 21 ways for a guy to make a woman fall in love with him. (On that sentence alone, I could write an entire thesis). One of these which the presenter regarded as particularly romantic was, 'kiss her in the middle of a sentence.' Excuse me? What, ignore what I'm saying and give me a smacker on the lips? Suicidal move, I'd say. 'Give her flowers for no good reason'. Men need to be told this? Still? 'Tell her how much you love her all the time, every day'. Er - no. The concept of 'broken record' springs to mind. I have my 'top 21 ways' summed up in a single remark, that is written on a mug sitting at my desk. My brother gave it to me at Christmas a few years ago, chose a particularly apt quote for me.
“Be daring, be different, be impractical, be anything that will assert integrity of purpose and imaginative vision against the play-it-safers, the creatures of the commonplace, the slaves of the ordinary.”