Here are my thoughts at this point in time. They may continue to be my thoughts at other points in time; conversely, I may have had these thoughts for a period of time preceding their commitment to this blog. I am nothing if not chronologically adaptable.
1. Waste coats
What is the fucking point of waistcoats? Did someone one day suddenly decide; ‘Geez, my shoulders and back are freezing, but my chest and arms are already sufficiently toasty. If only there were some practical solution!’
There is a practical solution, waiscoat wearers: it involves a length of garden hose and an exhaust pipe. Anyone who wears a waistcoat without intending to rob a stagecoach deserves to be beaten about the head and body with rakes.
2. Papacy Don’t Preach
Everyone’s favourite Hitler Youth - that zany Pope Ratzinger - continues to lambast the use of condoms and other contraceptives and encourage the impoverished, swarthy peoples of faraway lands to abstain from sex. After a day of mining blood diamonds and/or firing RPGs at opposing forces of nine year-olds, I think a man (boy?) is entitled to want a decent shag.
The inherent paradox in all of this is that despite preaching abstinence, Christians themselves worship a lifelong bachelor who was infamous for getting nailed.
3. Class discrimination in baked goods
I recently went to BP to buy a pie and noticed there was a variety called the ‘tradies’ pie. Being an arts student has imbued many traits in me - most relating to poor hygiene - but has also taught me to question everything. That I have paid thousands of dollars in HECS to basically learn advanced pedantry doesn’t bother me as much as it should. Anyway, I decided to debate the issue with an employee.
“Do you realize that in selling this product you imply that pies are somehow an exclusive staple of the tradie diet? What if a tradie felt like an open-faced salmon sandwich with cumquat chutney? A tapas plate to share with the other plasterers? Some pinot noir and a loaf of Italian bread with relish and assorted olive oils? Alternately, you’re suggesting that in buying this product, one then becomes a tradie; highly unlikely. I feel this pie is encouraging the kind of class tension that led directly to Stalinism and the deaths of tens of millions of people and I have to say I’m disappointed you’re complicit in this, Rajit.”
I bought the pie anyway, and upon my first bite immediately became prejudiced towards Asians and started to reek of sunscreen. I think I owe Rajit an apology.
4. Phil Collins could stand to learn a thing or to about symbolism.
I heard a Phil Collins song the other day where he sung about how he and some lucky lady had ‘two hearts living in just one mind.’ That’s a troubling thought. Imagine a baby born with two hearts within one mind in Viking times. They’d be put in a wicker basket, doused in accelerant and then WHOOSH…off to Valhalla. Sorry, Gunnar - next time get born with your vital organs in the right quantities and locations.
Furthermore, what kind of bullshit co-dependency is that? I feel uncomfortable sharing my toothbrush with a girlfriend, let alone allowing her to annex parts of my brain for her needy fucking cardiovascular system. Get out of here.
The End
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