I didn't give you permission to pick me up, let alone drink me. Being groped as you mutter to yourself taxes my patience. While I am a master of social complexities and articulate thought, clearly you are not. I embody the pinnacle of intellectual and artistic fulfillment, while you bring the baggage of preconceived notions, which only distract. Yet, I'll give you one chance: Aspire to free your mind. Use a crowbar if you must. Approach me with openness, unsullied by your irrelevant "life experience," or leave me alone. No, you don't have to put up with this. Go tweet your precious insights about me. Thrill yourself by imagining your three or 30,000 followers hanging on your every word. OMG, they're waiting to read the thought you just had. Now close your mouth and either set me down or do your worst. What's that? You're going to drink a fizzy yellow beer out of spite? Self-flagellate all you like, tiger. Proclaim your unworthiness to whoever will listen.

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