Monday, July 18, 2011
The Steve Job’s, Bill Gate’s and Mark Zuckerberg’s of the world insist we should all be connected that our lives will be vastly improved by connecting to everyone and everything the world has to offer; but WHO are we connecting too?
We plug into social networking (that’s right, “the” social networking FACEBOOK) where we “friend” everyone we’ve ever met, the same people we once chose not to stay in relationships with. Let’s face it, the people we truly love and care about don’t vanish from our lives, they are removed, either by us or by them. When we find these acquaintances that we may have met once at a party, a cousins wedding, someone twice removed from a real friend, we send them the standard message “hey…how have you been, I’m good, I work here…what are you up to…and two or three other casual sentences and then they forever sit in your friends list where they become one more notch on our wall and forever waiting for that golden “like” on whatever crap they have to say that you really don’t give a shit about anyway. Then when you’re bored looking at the same old bullshit and quotes by famous smart people, authors and movie stars that these “friends” try to pass off as their own original thought, you start to add more people, scrolling down their friends lists and adding everyone they’ve ever met and their friends and them, and they…
We go to chat rooms to find people with seemingly similar interests and talk the msn speak about how easy it is to talk to someone you’ve never met who could very well be jerking off on your face while you pour your heart out about your dead dog. Chat roulette anyone? Save yourself time and just scroll through pictures of dicks. Not my idea of a good time.
We look for love on dating sites, scouring the internet looking for that picture of our next true love. Seriously…options like “wink” “flirt” “send a message” give me a break…”Hey” typed on my screen with a winky emicon doesn’t make me wet. Even if he has a picture of himself at a great angle ten years and twenty pounds ago. Where did old fashioned courting go? “Hey…add me on MSN so we can chat” loose translation, “I want to show my penis and gauge your reaction”. In fact it actually pisses me off more to wait while someone feebly tries to type small talk (in abbreviations no less) and I have to watch BigJohn69 is typing a message blinking below me for twelve minutes waiting to respond to whatever he throws out there at fifty fucking words a minute. Nothing breaks the heat like waiting; it makes me as hot as standing in the line-up at the pharmacy buying tampons. I’m sorry but a rose emicon is not the equivalent of fresh bouquet of flowers sitting on my desk for all of my co-workers to be jealous of. “A rose by any other name would still smell as sweet” Well, I have news for Shakespeare…emi is no rose and she smells like nothing but frustration!
We are giving up romance and personal touch for words or at least sort of…brb…ok, I’m back! Fucking stupid right? One push of a button and the ENTIRE WORLD and all of it’s sick and depraved people with all different motives and different backgrounds are one keystroke away from us. Scary thought really, you could have been chatting with a man who recently got an inheritance and acreage in Maple Ridge and you wouldn’t even know you were talking to Robert Pickton and he wouldn’t even be lying. But if you saw him in the flesh, would you know something was wrong????
We have seen every perversion laid out in front of us, come on…everyone logged on to 2girls1cup after we heard how disgusting it was. I’m still not sure what the allure was for me…I watched the entire thing, almost perplexed that there were two women in the world that would do this and if two would do it on tape, how many do this in their home. How many people do I know that would actually think that was hot or worse, have done it? I opened the door…and that’s the shit that walked in! I prefer the days before mass connection, ignorance is bliss!!!!!
Monday, July 4, 2011
Sunday, July 3, 2011
A few months ago when it started to get nice out I realized it was time to clean up that yard, mow the lawn and plant a garden. One problem, I’m not fond of yard clean up, mowing the lawn or gardening. Second problem, I don’t even own a lawnmower, a rake, gardening supplies and I’m rather surprised that I have real garbage cans.
Here’s the lucky part…
I live in the ghetto, complete with hobos and a full police presence most days knocking down the grow ops. However, I guess one particular hobo took one look at my yard and figured I must need help. He knocked on the door, told me he and his friend had a lawnmower and wouldn’t mind doing the yard work for a small fee of $20.
So there it was, not a sexy lawn boy like a woman my age should have but…2 hobos! Yep, HOBOs!!!
Gean and Pete from down the street (have I mentioned I live in the ghetto). For $20 they do it all, mow the front, the back and get rid of any garbage. I for some reason hang on to garbage – I can never remember what day garbage day is or for some reason my brain believes that the garbage will drag itself to the curb.
Gean is the deal maker and the fast talker and Pete is the silent worker, quietly mowing without complaint while Gean makes jokes and bums (no pun intended) cigarettes. They smell like beer and B.O. but hey the job gets done. I think that’s what Charlie Sheen would call “Winning”. Sorry – I couldn’t resist throwing a bit of Sheen.
The first time they came to mow my conversation with Gean went something like this:
Me – “My name is Julie by the way, what’s yours?”
Gean – “Gean”
Me – “Gene”
Gean – “No…Ge..an”
Me – “Ok, Gene”
Gean – “No…like G.E.A.N”
Me – “Yeah…Gene”
Gean – *shakes his head*, “Don’t worry about it”.
After the lawn was mowed and the guys were paid Gean told me that his other buddy (I guess Hobo number 3) was going to the dump in the morning so him and Pete would be back to take my garbage either later in the evening or tomorrow morning – sounded good to me. A couple hours later (and I’m sure a few beers with that fresh 20 dollar bill I gave them) I looked out the window to see Gean and Pete with a shopping cart. You guessed it, they had it to take the garbage. They loaded up my garbage in the cart and strolled away. Where that garbage ended up, I have no idea – do I think it’s sitting at the dump – Not a chance!
Friday, July 1, 2011
MUST be over 30 - if your 20-ish and you think sending me a Facebook/Myspace/Text/Email/Etc message, with the notion that all women over 30 are after young boys for marathon sex that lacks any real experience, you’re wrong, longer doesn’t make up for years of careful planning and strategy, know your game;
MUST be single – if you have a girlfriend, wife, friend with benefits, even if you swear she doesn’t understand you, keep in mind, we won’t understand why we’re not enough either;
MUST have at least one brother or sister – this is where you would have learned how to share and when to compromise;
MUST NOT live at home – if you live with your parent(s), are just finding a place or just moved out (under 5 years) you’ll be busy looking for a parent replacement, and that isn’t us;
MUST be a working class man – meaning NO “entrepreneurial spirit” that’s just phrase for can’t take direction, and you know all the places where that can go wrong;
MUST take care of yourself – for this, you will have to walk a fine line…personal hygiene is good…trips to the salon are ok but should be hidden, we don’t really need to know why you look hot, leave a little mystery. Most importantly, NEVER take longer in the bathroom then we do;
MUST have friends your own age – if you hang out with grandpa we’ll have nothing in common, if you hang around teenagers and people in their 20’s, you probably have an immaturity problem;
MUST NOT have too many health issues – if you are one organ or digit away from being Steve Austin, Gentlemen, we can’t rebuild you;
MUST NOT have a slew of ex-girlfriends that have “abused” or “taken advantage of you” – you know the old saying, “if everyone around you is an asshole, it probably isn’t everyone else”;
MUST NOT have a nickname that includes the word “BOY” – if this is how people still refer to you, it’s a clear indication that you have some form of Peter Pan Syndrome;
MUST LOVE kids and UNDERSTAND them – they are not out to get you and their needs will, from time to time, surpass your own;
MUST be honest with gift giving - If you give, give it without the expectation of receiving, if you’re keeping a running tally you’re not a generous person, so stop pretending to be and just be yourself;
MUST be able to keep in mind at all times that sometimes people need to work, clean, cook, spend time with children, and various other things and therefore they may not be worrying about every little need and popcorn thought you have at that time;
MUST not be insecure or have “other” emotional problems – if you are or do, you need a professional and not a girlfriend;
MUST have the ability to keep “some things” to self – women love open and honest but even though we’re curious to know what your fantasy is – if it’s gang bang porn, we’ll just be wondering from then on…if you wanted to be first or last; and…
LAST but certainly not LEAST, MUST have a sense of humour – IF YOU DON’T GET IT, YOU NEVER WILL!