Thursday, 27 April 2006

inanity made me do it

Had a fabulous lunch and bang on today with JQ. We had two glasses of house white and all, oh and a tasty feed too. A hoot to boot.

So I returned after a lunch hour of fun and fine fare feeling kind of chipper and no longer feeling the bolt jolt panic, the mistress is a fickle and stupid variety of beast, after all.

Upon my return I was greeted by someone with “have you been shopping at the sales?”

A perfectly friendly, conversational query but at that moment i thought hmmm, sales, I really didn’t know they were on and actually couldn't care.

Still it hardly left me feeling perplexed which is how I feel when I tell people I’m going/have been to Melbourne and they sigh, "oh lots of great shopping there." Is there? Why? Aren’t most shops throughout Australia the same these days?!

hold on to your hats as I launch into a "what’s with " whinge routine

I find those standard responses and "addictions" somewhat tedious. It’s like that cliché that women just love, love, love and live for goddamn shoes. god how that bores me. I'm happy to admire or purchase a stylish pair but someone shruggin’ cutely and confidin' to you about her love or worse, a "weakness" is so hackneyed. A friend told me, when i was griping about this phenomenon, about someone confidin' to her about having a “weakness for shoes", while placing her (meaning contrived crazy shoe lover) pinkie finger to her mouth in an attempt at conveying girlish vulnerability, but probably resembling Dr Evil.

Furthermore what is with people who when they find out that a male acquaintance is gay, generally a particularly handsome man, say " shame" or" typical , it’s always the way. " I find that so annoying and insulting to our ‘omosexualiste bretheren. Are these dames implying that straight females should get all the redskins and homosexualistes just the clinkers?!? I don't know what they are trying to say but their mindlessness gets my goat.

Another favourite is the morning/afternoon tea/dessert "oh I shouldn't, titter, titter, followed by greedy scoff, scoff" reply when object, objectionable interlocuteur, more like, is profferred a lamington, piece of cake, or Arnott's cream assorted biscuit, (let's face it with the latter no one bloody should, and imagine offering that for dessert?!), it's along the lines of wicked magnum made me do it.

Finally, love and generosity will prevail shortly, promise, is the confession about "loving chocolate", well whoopie zing and a hot mothery cockadoodledoo, who doesn't, um oh my niece that's right, good to see the contrarian streak, um, vinegar, is still coursing through the family veins.

WE must rise against this boring chit chat and create our own mindless prattle . I can't do it all alone, godammit!!

Next time someone confides to you of her/his love of chocolate, worse refers to her/himself as a goddamn chocoholic, please do nod your head in agreement and say "yeah, and i sure like a good movement first thing of a morning, don't you?" or perhaps that is too crude, sorry, but i'm really riled and going off big time, so throw in something equally non sequitur such as "Yeah, and chuckle, shame about Lady Di. Still we did get to hear another great Elton John song but. "and then start humming New Rose, Planet Earth, or Careless Whisper.

It's been great whinging to you, thank you and good night.

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