Venting, venting, venting.
In the immortal words of Poppy Z Brite (whose books I have not yet read, but have heard incredibly nasty things about), “Some nights are made for torture, or reflection, or the savouring of loneliness”.
I’d have to agree with Poppy for the most part, though rather than savouring loneliness this eve, I’m focusing on a lovely glass of nepenthe and a plate of crackers and cheese. It’s raining again, and such glorious grey weather always seems to inspire my pen. Or rather my keyboard, as it is tonight.
Tonight.
‘Twas a night like tonight
(oh yes, just like tonight)
when the red-throated ass-tards were mooing in fright
and my thoughts turned to memories of fiendish delight…
…but I’ll not dwell on such musings, nor swish them around and wonder what various partners in crime may be up to on a night. Like. Tonight.
No, no. Instead, I will allow the wells of vitriol to spew forth as they will, rather than curbing myself as I normally do. Blame the drink, or any other number of contributing factors, but the filter is off and, much like the lovely blue brassiere that is currently draped over a nearby lamp, I can’t be arsed to slide it back on again. I’m just too bloody comfortable as it is. You don’t like it? Don’t look.
In my 30+ years of life on this planet, I have had the pleasure (nay, HONOUR!) of witnessing more acts-of-stupid than I thought humanly possible. I’ll not delve into the full range of unbelievable idiocy that I’ve been privy to, as I’d be typing for a fortnight and would rather get RSI from more sybaritic pursuits, but there are certain areas that seem particularly prominent in the realm of the asinine.
The concepts of common courtesy and self-awareness seem to escape a large number of people, and I’m not entirely sure why. Take escalators, for instance: for most people, it would just make sense that once one has ascended upon such a marvelous device, one would step away from said escalator towards the destination of choice. Apparently this concept escapes many, many folks, and they find it appropriate (nay, necessary!) to step off the escalator and stand at the head of it, gawping around themselves in a lobotomized stupor, trying to figure out which way to go-- apparently unaware that the throng of people behind them on that same magical machine is going to plough into their backsides in a moment. Naturally, when the others behind them DO bash into their asses (how can they not, really?) the assaulted ovines cluck in disdain at the RUDENESS of people.
Ha.
HAhaha.
The same idea goes for people who amble along in crowded places and then suddenly STOP. If you have an urgent text to answer or need to get your bearings about where the hell you are, heave thyself over to the side so the crowd can continue along past you, rather than trying to swerve around you…ESPECIALLY if you decided to start moving again and have not yet been able to figure out how to move in a straight line, choosing instead to weave very, very slowly baaaack and forrrrth on your path of choice.. Similarly, if you’re out with friends and you all have a pressing need to walk (REALLY FUCKING SLOWLY) four-abreast down the sidewalk, do NOT be all affronted when someone asks politely for you to let them pass. Just be happy that said passerby is being polite, and you don’t have a group of rivet-heads thinking that you’re a rival Red Rover team. Not that I wouldn’t pay to see that happen, but still.
While on the topic of walking, I’d like to address high heels and the fact that so few women are able to walk in them. High heels only look sexy if you can keep yourself upright and can sway elegantly while giving the impression that you are gliding along effortlessly. If you’re stamping around like a little girl in her momma’s shoes, or tottering around with ankles threatening to snap at any given moment, don’t wear ‘em. If you’re going to wear them, learn how to sodding well walk in them, or else be forewarned that you are going to look ridiculous and will deserve every ounce of mockery flung at you.
On a completely unrelated note, the leaves of the maple tree-top across the street from me are creating a shape that reminds me of an adorable little Shetland pony.
~ fin ~