To Stupid To Care

I've dropped my pen, calamity, I write too much profanity, it makes people act angrily, yet I walk around quite happily. I'm aware I speak like I don't care, and I reek of rudeness when I share, but I don't get offended to be fair, not up here on my high chair. Naturally I've no remorse, that means I don't care of course, but I'm a gent I'll hold the door, just for me not you and yours. You read from a rebel without a cause, whom finds it fun to wined up fools. Though I don't hunt them down like jaws, it's done through words I write with my paws. With direct rhymes that are unambiguous, also aimless and thus promiscuous, this contradiction is a tad ridiculous, have you worked out yet how I'm ingenious? I told you at the beginning that I care not, the lines since caused that to be forgot. Are you yet to realise the plot? Now it ends, yep, that's your lot.