It all started yesterday when a friend told me he was in a bad mood.
Funny, I thought, I’m in a pretty good mood.
From that second forward I have been in a downward spiral of bitchiness that is rivaled only by a few other irrational things (the exceptionally inebriated or mentally imbalanced being a couple of good examples). I am pretty sure I can identify every single reason for the mood. It’s all rather petty stuff that’s not worth five seconds of discussion. And no, I’m not going to spend six hours dissecting my stupidity.
I’m just going to bitch.
He’s not a man, baby–It’s not a slow news year. There have been a few things going on. So, why is it that the mainstream news media is all jacked up about a woman who has been through hormone therapy having a couple of babies. There is a woman at the local Wendy’s who has a beard and probably more than a couple kids. She isn’t on Oprah. When my buddies start getting knocked up, call me. Until then, take your not-yet-a-man-man and let him have all the babies in the world. He’s not a man, baby. (And, let me say, to all my transsexual readers, don’t take this as an affront to your life–I’m pissed at the media making a story out of a non-story, not your need to have a penis or a vagina).
It’s not Christmas, baby–It’s every trite bitcher’s fall back subject at this time of year, but Christmas carols on November 12? I was in the Charlotte airport a couple nights ago and they were playing carols over the loud speaker. I’ve decided to say screw it. If you guys can start celebrating Christmas a month and half early, I’m going to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day. Green beer and insobriety from now until March.
You don’t love God, baby–As I was writing this, my buddy Marty sent me this under the heading, “South Carolina, home of open thought and reasonable discourse.” I mean, for the love of all that’s holy…
Pardon me, but I’m crawling into a hole until April.