Tuesday, February 09, 2010

BOTTLED BILE

When did California become such a wussy-ass sanctimonious ghetto?
I know that tendency has always been here in truckloads - when I landed in Berkeley in 1978 the air was thick with fuzzy whale-saving and tree-hugging - but sometime in the last four or five years it has really gone overboard.

On the way back from my break I passed two pushy twats gathering signatures for some rainforest initiative, a frowsty earth-mother type handing out dolphin flyers, and a pasty anorexic stick-insect selling clean power buttons.
Plus some beaded cow informed me that smoking was evil.


"Tobacco drains the earth!!!"


'...Oh push off, Tinkerbelle!'


I also passed a scrawny half-wit begging for spare change. She was the only one who deserved my attention. Telling someone who is clearly NOT employable to get a job is both cruel and pointless, and dreadfully common - I may have been the only one of the well-fed office leite on that block to have given her money.
The rest of these people suck.

Moments ago I opened an e-mail from our social director / master of ceremonies / office manager / spirit-medium channeling for Mother Theresa.
Like many of that person's communications these past several years, it smarmed about some good cause. One which is dreadfully important, and we should all be involved.


"One of our goals with [ACRONYM DELETED] for the coming year is to make sure that all of you learn a little bit more about all the great things they do."


'...Frankly, Scarlett, I do not particularly care!!!'


I already donate to several charities, in addition to giving money to homeless people, purchasing candybars for worthwhile causes, and being politically involved.
Consequently, the frequent lectures about tofu, organic fair trade coffee, rescuing marmots, hugging trees, not using plastic when convenient, wearing sackcloth, or saving the planet for children I do not have nor am ever likely to have, all give me gas.

Please stop sending me these e-mails. I am in gonzen not interested. Unless someone is bleeding to death and you want all of us to come wring our hands shreying oy vey while digging the delicious sight, don't bother me. I am really not interested in doing politically correct saintly things in a group context.
Do not include me in your masturbatory social self-importance.


All of you sincere humourless anti-smoking tofu-snarfing green planet bunny huggers can go choke on some wheat-germ.
You are insufferable.
And you are breathing my air.

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