Why I Hate Almost Everyone (Part 22): Telltale Signs

I’ve had some people ask if there were any telltale signs that tend to tip me off that a person or group of persons would be added to the ever-widening “Why I Hate Almost Everyone” list.

Here is a brief inventory of some clues that would indicate that you’re a likely candidate for addition to The List…

• If you’ve ever cleaned your ears with car/truck keys;

• If you’ve ever grinned or giggled during your bail hearing;

• If you’ve ever said, “I eat lawyers for breakfast!”;

• If you’ve ever said, “I can buy and sell you!”;

• If you’ve ever humiliated, insulted or abused your girlfriend/wife in public; [1]

• If you’ve ever sent food back at a restaurant not because there was anything wrong with it but because you thought it would make you look like a discriminating gourmand;

• If you put up an impassioned defence of Honey Boo Boo and, when it doesn’t work, accuse the other person of being a snob;

• If you say you hate Barry Manilow because you think it is expected of you or you feel too embarrassed to tell the truth;

• If you criticize books or movies on religious grounds without having read or seen them;

• If you paint all liberals or conservatives with the same brush or if you automatically discount anything someone says merely because they are either liberal or conservative;

• If you feel election years give you carte blanche to act like a total fucknugget. [2]

• If you use the expression ‘carte blanche’ without actually knowing what a ‘carte blanche’ was;

• If you pronounce bagel “baggle”;

• If you feel natural disasters are caused by homosexuality;

This is what I could come up with off the top of my head this morning.

I have a feeling I will be adding to this list.

As the Ghost of Jacob Marley said, “It is a ponderous chain!”

____________________________________________________________

[1] This is not to say I don’t also hate those who abuse women in private. But there’s a special seat in Hell reserved for those guys who do this in public. They’ve forfeited their right to be treated like human beings.

[2] I heard Lt. Debra Morgan (Jennifer Carpenter) blurt out this delightful expression the other night on Dexter. It is my word of the week!

Why I Hate Almost Everyone (Part 21): The ‘Too Cool for School’

Too Cool for School:

A state in which a person thinks him or herself superior to everyone else in a given group or in general. Most commonly used sarcastically. [1]

“You may think you’re too cool for school. But I got a news flash for you…you AREN’T.” (Zoolander)

There is a difference between being ‘too cool for school’ (TCFS) and being snobbish, pretentious, conceited or even having a superiority complex, although being TCFS may at times incorporate those other repellent qualities.

There is a sense of being ‘above it all’… that just about everything and everyone else is somehow beneath you. Not in terms of social or financial standing for many of the TCFS come from quite modest, even poor backgrounds.

(Truman Capote ~ seriously too cool for school)

There is often a distinct gap between where the TCFS feel they should be and where they in fact are.

I’ve noticed many a waiter or waitress in artsy type restaurants and cafes adopt a tired, bored attitude when serving customers. An overwhelming sense of ennui engulfs them making it barely possible for them to do the menial tasks that cruel fate has inflicted upon their noble souls. Baristas (or baristards, as I sometimes call them) are quite often TCFS. In fact, being a barista is perhaps the ideal job for someone who is TCFS yet lacks any other marketable skill or talent.

(TCFS Baristard)

Uh huh… Spare me the attitude and make me my cappuccino, ok?

The TCFS are at their best when they need something from us plebes. People with whom they would otherwise never be caught dead, let alone associate, suddenly become necessary. What to do, what to do? No problem. The TCFS make it seem like they are doing YOU a huge favour by allowing you to be of some small assistance to them.

(I’ll let you do me a big favour… but just this once, ok?)

“It would be really cool if I could use your cell phone. I’d use mine but international calls are way expensive!”

Oh, golly gee. COULD I??

Listen… you’re above it all. Fine. Too involved in the high drama that is your life to talk with the groundlings. Great.

Just don’t expect me to play along, ok?

Now get me my damn cappuccino!

___________________________________________________________

[1] UrbanDictionary.com

Creepy Girls (11): Reflections

As I peruse the various macabre images of creepy girls, there is one subset that never fails to give me goosebumps.

Mirrors.

Or more precisely the horrible things contained therein.

Sometimes the girls seem oblivious to what is going on in the mirror.

Is the mirror reflecting something within the girl?

Or is it a view from a different reality…

…one trying to make its way into our world?

I don’t like mirrors. I try to avoid them when I can.

I’m always afraid of what I will see.

Why I Hate Almost Everyone (Part 19): Graveyard Vandals

My dearly departed dad’s grave was desecrated years ago by some teenage hammerheads who probably had too much to drink and thought it would be cool to knock the statue of the Virgin Mary off the top of a tombstone.

That’s my guess, anyway. No one ever found out who did it.

In my mind, there is a very special seat in Hell for those who desecrate graves. [1]

Words simply cannot express the feelings of revulsion and impotent rage I experience when I see images of vandalized cemeteries.

It is an attack on all right-thinking members of society. It is an attack on common decency.

It is the ultimate act of cowardice.

I hate you. I detest you. I despise you. I loathe you.

As Queen Elizabeth the First of England once said, “G-d may forgive you… but I never can!”

____________________________________________________________

[1] As an observant Jew, I do not believe in Hell in the Christian or Muslim sense of Eternal Damnation with no hope of repentance after death. The Jewish concept of punishment for sinners in the afterlife is more like the Catholic concept of ‘Purgatory.’ BUT… if there is a Hell, I am sure there are special seats reserved for guys who beat up prostitutes, men who rape children…  and cemetery desecrators.

Why I Hate Almost Everyone (Part 18): Clowns

Coulrophobia is the fear of clowns.

Please note that I did not say it was the irrational fear of clowns.

Nothing could be more rational than being afraid of a guy in floppy shoes, fright wig, garish make-up and a red nose.

It is not unlike my fear of bad Irish drag queens. Perfectly reasonable.

I don’t know who first came up with the idea of clowns. I’m sure it was the result of some drunken Graeco-Roman stage gag gone horribly out of control.

It is interesting to note that I don’t have a fear of mimes. I harbour a deep-seated loathing for them, of course. Who doesn’t? But not fear.

I’m also not afraid of the old commedia dell’arte clowns. I do not lie awake at night knowing that Pulchinello or Arlecchino is hiding under my bed just waiting to get up to no good.

Nor am I afraid of Shakespearean clowns… other than the not-unreasonable fear that they might bore me to death.

(Bring on the waterworks!)

Nor do I fear the heart-broken clown in Leoncavallo’s I Pagliacci, although I am embarrassed at the fact that I cry every effen time I hear him sing “Vesti la Giubba.”

Truly, I do. It’s sad yet pathetic. Can’t stop the waterworks. Really.

(Hello, kids!)

Nope… the source of my greatest nightmare is the 19th and early 20th century Barnum & Bailey style ‘modern’ circus clown.

(The Circus Clown, movie poster – 1934)

Scares the crap out of me.

(Is that a coffin on that chair??)

I get the sinking feeling that the moment I turn my back, the psychotic sociopath who is masquerading (literally) as a clown reveals his true self, thrusting a knife into my neck.

So parents, for the love of all that is good and decent, don’t inflict clowns on your kids. Don’t take them to the circus thinking they’ll have a blast as they watch an ever increasing hoard of serial killers come out of a tiny clown car.

All you are doing is guaranteeing them years on some psychiatrist’s couch, blaming you for why they break into a cold sweat whenever they see Ronald McDonald.

WASP 101: All you need to know

In the interest of promoting insect awareness, I present you with the following…

Learn it. Live it. Love it.

You’re welcome!

Dress for the body you have… not the body you want! (Part 2 – Men)

I recently posted a blog article about some young teenage girls and their unfortunate habit of dressing for a body type other than their own.

Today I get to take a swing at the guys.

I’d like to set my sights on an equally repellent aspect that some men have, namely decking themselves out in a way that causes right-thinking members of society to want to claw their eyes out.

(Friends don’t let friends wear mullets!)

Young or old, middle class or poor, there is something about a guy who seems to be completely oblivious as to what he really looks like.

They can’t possibly leave the house knowing that they look the way they do!

(John Daly’s golf pants make me want to scream)

And no normal self-respecting woman I know would ever let their guy leave the house looking like that!

And yet… there they are, infesting the aisles of the local Walmarts!

Each and every one of these clowns left the house thinking they look gooood!

They soooo don’t!

(Oh, COME ON!!)

So guys… for the love of all that’s good and decent in the world…

Stop it.

JUST… STOP IT!

Dress for the body you have… not the body you want!

Important fashion tip for my damsels in distress [1]...

Ladies [2], I cannot over-state the importance of this little aphorism.

You may think you look scorchingly hot in that skimpy, sexy little outfit you squeezed into this morning. But unless you are anything other than slender… dare I say ‘willowy’… you (and perhaps a road crew) aren’t going to pull it off.

Be realistic. And I am not saying that anyone other than fashion models deserve to dress well. Heaven forfend.

BUT… if you are trying to dress like the runway models at New York Fashion Week and you kinda don’t look like them to start off with… you might want to lower your expectations just a titch.

Sadly, however, the young ladies with whom I usually deal do not aspire to haute couture. Far from it. From where I sit, it seems that some of them are in a fashion ‘race to the bottom.’

I’m not sure when ‘skanky’ became a ‘serious’ fashion choice but for heaven’s sake girls… knock it off. [3]

Yes, we all know you recently discovered that you have both the drive and the equipment. Congratulations. You’re right up there with… Every Other Girl.

As Spiderman said, “With great power comes great responsibility.” Put another way, ‘your body is a temple… not an amusement park.’

Dress appropriately.

And that includes dressing realistically. If you are tall, slender, perfectly proportioned with a pretty face and a great smile, ignore everything I just said. This article is not directed at you.

For the 99.9% of you who are not blessed with such award-winning genes, work with what you have… not what you wish you had.

You’ll look and feel so much better. And right-thinking members of society will thank you.

___________________________________________________________

[1] As many of you know, I am a criminal defence lawyer in my ‘other’ (i.e. non-blogging, non-writing) life. As such, I am exposed to all manner of fashion disasters and couture tragedies. Usually I hold my tongue. Sometimes, I simply must speak out!

[2] Trust me… guys have this problem as well. More so in a later blog article!

[3] The entire subject of ‘slutty clothing’ will also be dealt with in another blog article. Girls who choose to dress modestly often get smart-ass remarks from the skankily-dressed set. An Orthodox Jewish high school girl I know was once asked why she dressed like someone just died. As Wednesday Addams would reply, “Wait.”

Creepy Girls (8): Girls in the Middle of Nowhere

Related to the macabre photos of girls in unusual places are the pictures of girls out in the middle of nowhere.

Your mind can’t help but ask, “What the heck is she doing out there?”

Depending on the photo, it can be very unsettling.

Isolated, no one around to help. Is she lost? Is she in trouble?

Throw in a totally unexpected element (e.g. a ladder or some chairs) and you increase the weird/creepy factor.

(((((shudder)))))

I love it!

Creepy Girls (7): Girls on the Floor in the Corner

In macabre photos, girls are sometimes placed on the floor…

…or in the corner…

or on the floor in the corner.

Maybe there’s something about our childhood images (memories?) of being sent to stand or sit in the corner… a particularly embarrassing and powerless position in which to be put…

…especially by someone older, larger and stronger… and often, someone you’re supposed to love… and who is supposed to love and protect you.

Whatever the reason, these images play on our most basic feelings of humiliation, guilt, shame and self-loathing.

And yes, fear.