I'm not much of a fighter, I'm more of a walk-away-er. Unless you're that guy who was jerking off in the card racks by the children's section of the bookstore that one time; then I felt pretty good about throwing you out on your ass. But for the most part I've always tried to turn the other cheek, or use soft words to turneth away wrath*, thinking that that's what taking the high road was all about, even when doing that felt like some weak-ass shit.
But then recently Heather gave me the opportunity to help her tell off some misogynestic fuck who came at her in an e-mail, and whoa! the venom just flowed from my fingers. I'm tellin' ya. It was effortless. And I'm starting to realize that sometimes taking the so-called high road is jive, when actually the high road means it's your duty to tell a jackass to go take a flying fuck at a rolling donut. God I love that phrase, I haven't used it in years. It reminds me of my oldest brother, the one who, when I was little and saw the words "school sucks" written on a wall and asked him what exactly a school could possible be able to suck, said, "Oranges."
*It actually woks sometimes.