|Image courtesy of Rasto Belan|
|Image courtesy of Rasto Belan|
|Image courtesy of John Holden|
Let’s be honest with ourselves. Romance is rubbish and love is nothing but a letdown. We are born alone and we die alone. Most of our lives are spent with our inner most thoughts insulated from the people around us, although I’m not too sure if ghosts can hear our thoughts.
Life as an infamous coffee snob is hard. Not because you are constantly trying to track down someone that can make coffee as good as you can, but because of the terrible attitude you get from the non-coffee snobs around you.
Apparently going for coffee with a coffee snob is such a trying and stressful experience that I have few friends who will still come with me. Ok, I literally have no friends who will join me. They say if I promise to not order a coffee and therefore will not spend the next hour complaining about the sub-human that attempted to put perfection in a cup but failed to do so, they will come with me. What am I supposed to do? Order a cup of green tea and not want to kill myself? Get real.
The struggle of getting a great cup of coffee is real but it is amplified when I go to other people’s houses. I am always terrified of the dreaded question – “Would you like a coffee?”
There are two ways this question is posed.
1/ “Would you like a cup of coffee – it won’t be up to your standards though.”
So why the hell would you offer me one? I haven’t drunk instant coffee since 1996 when I was at boarding school. Why would I start now? I like my life, I am happy, are you intentionally trying to take this happiness away from me? It looks like you are, and yet, I am the rude one.
Offering any decent human being an instant coffee is exactly like this: You have a super stylish gay best friend who is very fastidious in their attire and they only wear Gucci. He always looks sharp in his designer threads and these designer threads are his reason for living. You respect that. But then one day he comes around to your place and you say “I have a pair of 1980 stone washed jeans, complete with elastic waist band. I know it’s not up to your standards but you should wear them to make me feel better about my own lack of style.” It’s just plain rude. You wouldn’t do it in a rainbow fit so don’t offer a coffee snob some of your revolting coffee that comes out of a can.
2/ “Would you like a coffee? I have a pod machine and it’s really good, you have to try it.”
No. No I don’t. I won’t like it, it’s going to be undrinkable and then it’s going to get awkward for everyone. Don’t try to push your inferior product on me because I will karate chop you into next Tuesday. I know what I like and it is coffee that is ground fresh to order (beans go stale within 30 seconds of being ground, FYI) and comes out of a commercial coffee machine. I have a commercial coffee machine in my house, so don’t try to give me your pod crap. I may as well kill myself. It would be the same thing only less painful and over a lot quicker.
We are not in the midst of a zombie apocalypse so there is no excuse for this behavior. Water is fine to offer and us coffee snobs generally WANT the water when you offer your “coffee”. So when we say, ‘no thanks, water would be great.’ Believe me, the last residue of human decency just went into not killing you, so don’t push the matter. Throw your coffee out the window before I do and fetch the glass of water.
The memory of modern man is a complex thing, mostly because it doesn’t exist.
They understand the term, they can even use it in a sentence, but empirically the modern man does not have a memory. Instead, modern man has only the ability to logically organise, in their minds, tasks that they must do in the near future. But these are only tasks they really enjoy doing or experiences or things that they need to survive and unfortunately this ability when viewed by modern woman is incredibly limited. For example;
“I must watch the football.
“I must drink this beer.
“I must not change the toilet roll when it is empty.
“I must be surprised when the toilet roll is miraculously full again.”
The perpetual battle of who should change the toilet role is a mute cause. You cannot argue with a crazy person and you cannot train the modern man because he would not remember his training from one point to another.
Occasionally this ability to logically organise their thoughts expands slightly to tasks such as: “I must mow the lawn.” But this is invariably followed by “I must drink this beer.” And when it comes to more complex aspects of human memory the modern man falls drastically short.
“What do you mean a supermarket has entire isles full of useful things besides beer and sausages? Fascinating. I will try and logically organise my thoughts to account for this new piece of information – this ‘new’ piece of information that has been relayed to modern man over a billion times. But due to a lack of memory shopping bags are consistently filled with beer and sausages, a result of simple, organised thoughts propped up by generations of genetic coding and the pursuit of pleasure disguised as needs.
This lack of memory does not equate to a lack of love or a lack of intelligence. For example;
“I can rebuild an entire motor in a day but I cannot remember to put my tools away.
“I must be surprised when they miraculously appear back in the shed.”
Modern man has a hard time configuring his thoughts to think about where a particular tool may be at any given moment. Having a memory would prove most valuable in these situations. But as keepers of the only memory in a heterosexual relationship, modern woman must help her modern man where she can and always exercise the greatest of patience.
The modern man can love deeply and faithfully but they cannot remember the pieces that form this love. For example;
“I wonder how my dirty clothes keep appearing clean and hanging in my wardrobe? I swore I left them dirty right next to the basket full of other dirty clothes.”
Instead of memory, modern man’s brain is a web of things, feelings and experiences that they like. They don’t need to try and remember these things because, unlike changing the toilet roll, they are part of them. Sex, beer, football, playing with the over tired baby well after bed time and then complaining that said baby is too cranky, these are things that naturally fill modern man’s brain. No memory is required to complete these tasks or enjoy these experiences.
A woman’s memory on the other hand, is a fully developed tangible master piece. It has to be, so one part of the species is able to help the other part of the species live a better functioning life than they would be able to live without modern woman’s fully developed tangible master piece of a memory .
It is important to note that modern woman does not use her super power for evil, despite what modern man may think. Conversations are not recorded for future training and development. What men refer to as ‘nagging’ is simply the essential repetitive reminders to help modern man organise his thoughts so he is able to live a more fulfilled life, which according to most Socratics is the meaning of life so ‘nagging’ is an absolutely vital tool for modern man.
For this reason modern woman was designed to speak more words than modern man because they have to remember and then verbally relay to modern man what he must be doing beyond his organised thoughts of pleasure and happiness. Modern man cannot remember rubbish bins need to be emptied and refrigerators need to be filled.
It is not their fault, they are simple creatures of hedonism and as much as they need us we need them. There are many tasks that need to be completed that do not require a memory. Immediate tasks that require immediate action such as disposing of the demonic spider that just entered your view point. Or producing the shiny credit card on request when modern woman walks into a shoe shop.
Modern man cannot be trained, he cannot be tamed and he should not be changed. So modern woman must be well versed on when it is appropriate to use subtle verbal reminders, exasperated shrieking, complete with hair pulling, or sex to remind modern man of the correct behavior that should be applied in a variety of situations.
Yes, memory is indeed a complex thing. Since it is expected that modern man should be able to live peacefully with modern woman despite not being able to contribute in the way of remembering the more boring facets of modern life, modern woman must keep her rage in check, help her modern man and remember they are simple creatures who are needed for things other than changing the toilet roll.
It appears, that at the age of 30 something, I have reached a point in my life where technology is getting away from me. Facebook is easy, addictive and well within my comfort zone. I like Facebook because you get to judge people without having to speak to them or interact with them in anyway if you so choose. Twitter on the other hand, is really hard – what the heck are the #’s all about and I have just discovered that I should be using Tumblr as a writer, whatever that is.
Today, modern technology just got a whole lot harder because for the first time, I attempted to use the emojo/picture thingies on my phone to express my thoughts, rather than laboriously type out words. Not good for a writer but an interesting experiment all the same. Except it wasn’t interesting. It was infuriating. This attempt was pre-coffee so I have every right to feel like I want to start killing people.
First of all, I wanted an emojo/picture thingy of coffee so I could send a text with a picture of someone getting punched which was supposed to be a quick and clever way to say ‘if you fail to bring me a coffee, you will get punched’. But of course, my phone emojo/picture thingy does not have a picture of a coffee cup. Now I don’t know what kind of world the creator of these things lives in, but it is obviously a hell dimension. No other dimension would consider a world without a need for a coffee emojo/picture thingy. I have pictures of a syringe, a hammer, and 20 million cats doing a variety of things but no coffee cup.
Needless to say I had to spend my entire morning ranting on Facebook about the absurdity of this and writing this blog rather than preserving precious pre-coffee energy.
Delving into this new world further, after seeing a clever response to my Facebook post about this issue which had deeply affected me, I spent valuable baby free time sifting through the hordes of relatively useless pictures to find one that exactly represents what I was trying to say without the use of words. It appeared to be a woman with her hands raised as if to say “Wow! Clever! Yay! Amazing!” and so forth. I pressed send, enraptured in my own brilliance, only to find that the picture changed to two blue hands. Now I look like a complete idiot.
Having a go at using these emojo/picture thingies was worth it because they may have made me look cooler than I actually am and anything that makes you look cooler is worth trying. But I think we have established that I am not very cool (two blue hands – what the hell?!). It was also worth a go because I really like Ancient Egypt and they used hieroglyphs which are pictures, not written words that come from an alphabet as such, so I figured if it was good enough for them, it might be good enough for me. It was not good enough for me.
As a writer, when did I become so lazy that I thought I could use these emojo/picture thingies rather than words? Words that I have spent years and too much money mastering? Are these emojo/picture thingies really essential to living in this modern world of technology? Do they make life better? No of course they do not. They are yet another way that multi-million dollar corporations get to take our hard earned money. When used in a text message, the message becomes a MMM and therefore costs money where normal text messages are usually free. Nice try multi-million dollar corporation but you can take your emojo/picture thingies and shove them up your (insert emojo/picture thingy of a donkey or butt here).
However in my short foray into using these useless pictorial expressions of feelings or circumstances instead of words I did find one positive use for them. If you want to imply violence towards another person, it is much safer to do so using pictures rather than definitive words. A picture of someone getting punched is much nicer than writing ‘I will punch you in the face’. The picture makes it rather funny and a little bit cute. Well, maybe not for the person receiving the threat of violence through the emojo/picture thingy, but it makes the sender feel better about being an advocate for violence when the situation calls for it.
Nope, I will not lower my standards to use these emojo/picture tingies until there is an emojo/picture thingy of someone getting punched and a coffee cup.
|Image courtesy of Page Foster|
|Picture courtesy of Jose Torres
Apparently it is now illegal to sell alcohol to pregnant women in parts of America. Yes, I am well aware that our culture is slowly but surely being swallowed up by the culture of Uncle Sam, that our own Aussie uniqueness is being overtaken by the red, white and the blue and that another blog dedicated to an American theme is not needed. But of course, I write whatever takes my fancy and today it is the movement of the western world into a complete nanny state.
Drinking alcohol is bad when you are pregnant, we all understand that, we are not complete idiots who need laws to tell us what the right thing to do is in pretty much every circumstance. But as Jim Jefferies says, we have to walk as slow as our slowest person. Apart from an intrusion on our own moral judgement and apart from having another law that exists only for the really dumb, there are a few problems with this late night law.
picture courtesy of Izor Simonovioe
A woman would have to look pregnant for a bar person to refuse to sell them alcohol. But what if the person reserving the right to serve alcohol to a pregnant woman got it wrong? What if Cloe was indeed not knocked up but had been knocking herself around in the bottom of a biscuit tin after her relationship bottomed out? Should the filling out of her bottom and tummy mean that she is not served alcohol, and by god she needs to drown her sorrows after the bastard broke her heart for the final time. And what if Meredith really is pregnant but is able to order an entire bottle of Yellow because she insisted to the bar person that, no she is not pregnant, just getting fat after the rowing machine in her living room conked out. Are they taking bar people aside for secret classes on how to identify who is pregnant and who is fat? Not all women get that lovely rounded tummy that looks like they swallowed a basketball. It’s easy if a woman is heavily pregnant and looks heavily pregnant, no mistakes can be made here.
This brings us to our next problem. If a woman is heavily pregnant the chances of her getting the energy to lift a full glass of wine let alone get off the couch and into a bar are slim to none. So the chances of these women being in a bar in the first place makes the law a little redundant. And if this poor fatigued and feeling awful pregnant woman, by some miracle, got an energy rush that allowed her to get up, get dressed and get down and dirty would then she would have to wade through a sea of dirty looks from people who do not approve so it would hardly be worth the energy required to move. May as well ruin your babies’ brain development and get tanked in the comfort of your own couch.
And what about all the “bad” things that pregnant woman in the 70s did? They ate nuts, lettuce, deli meats, cuddled their pets, smoked and drank. They even rode in cars without baby carriers and rode bikes without helmets. Kids from the 70s seem pretty normal. Those pregnant women didn’t spawn a generation of underdeveloped simpletons. There is an entire generation of kids who survived this madness. On the flip side, with all the laws and regulations and dirty looks reigning pregnant women in, does this mean that the kids born today are going to be some sort of uber human? Will the kids born of previous generations be stupid in comparison?
It seems as though freedom of choice is an illusion. People need to be free to make their own choices, even if they are very very stupid.
Today the rainbow that represents the LGBT community is covered in blood. Another day, another massive amount of people dead. It must be Monday.
|Image courtesy of Getty stock images.|
|This is not my child but it encapsulates reality with a child very well. Image courtesy of Andreas Bauer|