She loved to posture. She loved the feeling of being more-than. She had several ten dollar words waiting in her back pocket to be spent on anyone she deemed less intelligent than herself. These words were used to purchase the hardware that would hold her feeling of superiority in place during the following discourse. She wrote this paragraph herself, failing to hear the pretense as the letters came tapping from her fingertips. Perhaps she is a bad writer. Perhaps she is a bad writer and a bad person. She sure seems to be. When does self-deprecation become pathetic? About here, right?