Just bitchin'

And To All A Good Night…

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I did something shocking.

I proclaimed, loudly and without the slightest apology: “Merry Christmas.”

I hadn’t intended to; it just slipped out.

Silence ensued.

I had committed the politically incorrect sin of uttering something un-generic at a time of year when we are all very careful to tiptoe about on religious eggshells for fear of alienating anyone who might not celebrate the same holiday that we do.

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I knew it the second the words dropped like leaden harbingers of impropriety. And then I decided I really didn’t care what others thought. I wouldn’t be offended if someone wished me a Happy Hanukkah, or a Happy Solstice, or any of the multitude of other winter observations, as long as the intent was to share joy.

I’m sorry to offend, but the term ‘Happy Holidays’ just doesn’t pack the emotional oomph of its more specific cousins.

So with all due respect…

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night…

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Just bitchin'

Saliva With Your Sprinkles

blogariana1

Oh, dear.

Another silly celeb spouting stupidity.

Oh, dear.

So in case you haven’t heard, a minor celebrity named Ariana Grande went into a donut shop, bellied-up to the counter upon which rested a tray of the pastries…licked them…and turned away muttering how much she hates America. Then she stuffed a previously un-licked donut into her mouth. All in plain view and hearing of the shop’s surveillance camera.

Clearly, this woman will never be honored for her intellect.

There was and still is a huge outcry about her comments on hating the country that shelters her.

I honestly don’t care. Maybe I should. But I don’t. See…I’d have to respect her to care what comes out of her mouth. I don’t.

Oh, wait…I need to backtrack here.

I DO care tremendously about something that came out of her mouth. Saliva.

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She licked donuts that she had no intention of buying or eating. I hear she tells her fans she’s a vegan, but she did chow down on a non-vegan donut while in camera range…just not one of those she licked. The issue of lying to her fans about her diet doesn’t interest me in the least.

What I do care about is her complete lack of personal hygiene. I don’t care how low her IQ is; she should know not to trail her spit on other people’s food.

The woman herself has no relevance in most people’s lives, so her opinions are powerless. ISIS will not be recruiting her anytime soon, I’m sure.

And although there might be a pre-pubescent fan base somewhere who’d love to suck on her saliva, I doubt the donuts she defiled were meant for them.

So rude.

She’s made some bumbling attempts to apologize for her ‘I hate America’ statements, but not a word about her deplorable lack of manners and hygiene.

And now I have to amend my statement that Ms. Grande has no relevance in my life.

I will never look at donuts again without wondering if someone else’s DNA is lurking among the sprinkles…

blogariana2

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Just bitchin'

The Lost Reality of Etiquette

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“Reality ain’t nuthin’ but rude.”

She was large, obese, with a babe in arms and a bevy of other little ones storming her for attention. She was standing in front of one of those stores whose idea of window dressing begins and ends with rank upon rank of television monitors.

She was referring to a reality show featuring a few drunk twenty-somethings stumbling into walls, spitting curses and throwing whatever came to hand, their images multiplied a dozen times over. She turned a sad eye my way.

“Don’t matter what I say; when my kids see this kinda stuff, they figure ‘s okay to b’have like animals.”

The world of social media is geared toward acquiring followers, likes, hits, attention. And it’s far more interesting to observe the antics of misbehavior than polite manners.

This woman is raising her children at a time when rudeness is applauded, encouraged, rewarded with reality TV star status. Act out, incur conflict, and you’ve got an audience. More than that; you’ve got a following! Doesn’t matter if you’re liked. What matters is you’re seen.

The woman herding her progeny before her, and away from the spectacle of over-the-top confrontation, told me it’s a losing battle. She can exercise all the parental control available in her home, but at some point whether it’s TV or online or from playmates inundated with the same ‘reality’ message, rudeness will filter down through the cracks like ashes in Pompeii.

“Kids’ gonna be rude and won’t know how to spell, neither.”

My guess is she’s blaming the space limits imposed by Twitter and texting for that last. But I could be wrong. There might be a reality show out there about spelling bee losers that I haven’t encountered yet. I’m not worried.

I’m sure it’ll filter down and coat me with its fine ash.

‘Cause you can’t escape reality. And like the lady said, ‘Reality ain’t nuthin’ but rude.”

cattongue

 

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