HOWLING AT THE MOON

Festivus: Aluminium pole, airing of grievances, feats of strength. And making George Costanza weep.
File this under 'better late than never'.

No aluminium pole. No feats of strength. No George Costanza.


AIRING OF GRIEVANCES.

To all American men: Stop talking about sports. Real people are NOT interested in what a bunch of big bottomed mutants wearing shiny tights do on a football field. Your juvenile crypto-sexual obsession with springy male booty and pigskin fumbles makes us sick. And the same goes for ALL other sports. Every time I have to listen to you lot going on about football, baseball, basketball, or whatever ball, my eyes start closing and my stomach goes liquid.
Buncha freaks. Get over it.

To all young American women: Okay, yes you are too fat, you can stop asking. It's the crap you eat, you're all built like frikkin' heffalumps.
No, do NOT tell me about your fabulous shopping experience! Just. Shut. Up.
If I never EVER have to hear about handbags, your coworkers, and your goldarned insecurities again, I'll be happy.
Let's just agree that I am not interested in you, nor keen to get into your sweaty over-sized panties, and that since you let half the tribe of Cro-Magnon (ie, sports obsessed American men) in there already, there is NO call for me to even think of going there.
We'll get along fine if you lot stay out of my life -- just like your dumbass brothers who JUST. WON'T. SHUT. UP. about sports.

Europeans: Shut up. No one cares what you think. Pussies.

To all Mandarin-speaking young women in San Francisco: Does the term "gold digger" mean anything to you? How about "high priced tart"? No? Doesn't surprise me.

To all Mandarin-speaking men in San Francisco: Get over yourselves. Smarmy ineffective limp-dicked gangster types are a dime a dozen. You're NOT better than the Cantonese, and your snooty pretensions do not hide that basically you are all a bunch of farts.

To all Philippino men in the Bay Area: None of you are gentlemen, and your women are the ones who are really in control. You are just incapable of grasping that fact.

To all Philippino women in the Bay Area: You are NOT irresistable.
I am not going shopping with you.

To all Christians: Please shut the hell up. You are insufferable cunts.


THIS IS MY YEAR, DAMMIT.

Nah, probably not going to ask anyone out on a date this year, or even try to have a relationship again. Why bother?
I'm a fifty two year old man, and if I don't have a wife and kids by now, it ain't gonna happen. Hell, even a sex-life of any sort is unlikely, and finding a woman who is actually a person rather than a shallow souped-up shopaholic consumerite is just not possible.
Besides, most women have arses & attitudes bigger than a barn door.
Colour me uninterested, inflexible, and unimpressed.

And the next time some ESPN-obsessed dillwad starts blathering on about sports, I'm going to start yawning, scratching, and quoting Nabokov or Somerset Maugham. Why should I have to listen to your inane gibbering, just because you represent the normal male?
By the same token, I am NOT interested in your jejeune concepts of politics, finance, or gun ownership.

This year, I will be far less tolerant of idiots. Life is too short to drink starbucks.
I am anti-social, a misanthrope, and rather much a misogynist.
Yes, I am happy with that.
At least a hell of lot happier than putting up with all that other crap would make me.


NOTE:
Cantonese speakers, Mexicans, Talmudists, and readers of Jane Austen are off the hook for now.
As are young ladies who resemble Audrey Hepburn or Cherie Chung.
Or possibly Maggie Cheung in very feisty roles.



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