Category: Fourre-tout

“Social progress always begins with the independence of the buttocks.”Albert Cossery 

 In other words, gender equality is only achieved when women have total control of their body, including their buns.

I just read this morning in the Huffpost that the mayor of Les Lilas (a Parisian suburb) strongly objected to a blue jeans poster and demanded its removal. The object of his ire shows a very tame picture of a young woman modeling a pair of jeans.

“This advertisement appeared right next to a college. We do not want young girls to be exposed to such a devaluating message of objectification! We do not want young men to be exposed to this image of the woman! Remove this advertisement! “

 So thundered Daniel Guiraud the socialist mayor of this small community. Poppycock! This is another ridiculous case of Political Correctness going off the rails.

As far as I know, nobody is coercing women to wear tight pants. They all do it willingly… and eagerly.
Contrarily to common thinking, in the mating game, men are not the predators… they are the preys. This state of affairs is especially prevalent in Eastern Europe and particularly in Ukraine, where according to official data, there are only 86 males for 100 women.

Women are therefore going to use all their wiles to ensnare the (potential) father of their future children. Everything is fair in war and love, and women won’t hesitate a minute to showcase (besides their brain) their physical assets to achieve their goal.

As a matter of fact, one woman objecting to the pious mayor’s edict wrote:

Et qui êtes-vous pour interdire les gens à vouloir avoir leurs fesses mises en valeur ? (And who are you to forbid people from wanting to have their buttocks showcased?)

Unlike sanctimonious do-gooders, I am not against sexy outfits… up to a point. Actually (and speaking for the majority of the male population), I would rather look at a well-rounded bottom undulating in front of me than staring at a forbidding burka.

So girls, don’t listen to party-poopers. If you want to show and tell, indulge your fancy. But be careful, there is a time and a place, and there is also a fine line between sexiness and vulgarity.

Alain

 “A newly awakened Seventh Avenue became worshipful of prominent derrieres, and the culture fell knee-deep into the language of body positivity.” Washington Post Nov 26, 2018

“No intelligent man wears a mustache voluntarily – you can write that down.” Sam Neill

I agree.

Some people might have noticed that for the last three weeks I have been sporting a mustache. Not because I like it mind you, but mostly because I am lazy. Confidentially, I am a slothful creature.

Shaving is a tedious operation that I postpone as often as possible (especially on rainy days), and lately, it rained a lot. So, I went without shaving for a few days, and when I finally did it, I foolishly spared the upper lip. It looked at me so imploringly that I relented.
I cannot help it, I am a soft-hearted individual.

But I will have you know that living with a mustache is a high maintenance job. It is very demanding and like a colleen, it needs to be pampered. The damn thing grows so fast that I have to groom it every day, and I have better things to do than trimming my cookie-duster.

I can spend 3 or 4 days without shaving, but I cannot do the same with my lip foliage. It grows insidiously fast and interferes with my eating and kissing. Some hairy girls will tell you that “A kiss without a mustache is like a beefsteak without mustard” but you cannot have steak every day.

A mustache might look cool and attractive to the other sex, but ultimately it is a nuisance. It demands too much attention and takes away from my steely eyes and my voluntary chin. So I did the deed, I shaved it off!

I indulge in a mustache fantasy about every ten years. If you want to see me again wearing some face fungus, meet me at the top of the Empire State Building in a decade. “Anything can happen, don’t you think?”

So, it is “goodbye mustache” time.

Adios mustachio mio. It was fun while it lasted, but everything must end. You will be fondly remembered but not missed.

Hasta la vista baby!

Alain

Fuck this.
Fuck this wondering. Fuck this trying and trying. Fuck this belief that two people can become one ideal. Fuck this helplessness. Fuck this waiting for something to happen that probably won’t ever happen. — David Levithan

I am not a prude and I am not easily shocked, but I am fed up with nincompoops who cannot utter three words without saying “fuck”. This is fuckingly annoying!

Parroting is the sign of an underdeveloped mind and if you are an idiot, there is no need to advertise it. On the other hand, if you are addicted to the “fuck” sound and cannot kick the habit, try at least to vary your vocabulary by using similarly sounding words. And there are plenty of them rhyming with “fuck”.

For instance, you could use any the following: buck, duck, luck, muck, puck, suck, tuck, yuck. They are all honest English four-letter words capable to satisfy your sleazy instincts, and they all sound right.

So now, you have no excuse for using that worn out, overused, recycled, warmed-over term. English has a large vocabulary and is a very adaptable language. New words can be coined every day without any problem. If you are not satisfied with the existing words, create your own… something like the brilliant “Trumpism” “covfefe”.

You don’t want to be a mere follower, do you? You want to be a pioneer, an innovator, a leader. Don’t be like a crass rapper who fills his angry diatribes with obscenities simply to be noticed.

If you need some inspiration to be creatively angry, simply watch the news on TV. There is enough stuff out there to make Buddha (“one who is awake”) loose his cool.

To be a leader instead of a sheep, discard the “monkey sees, monkey does” philosophy and dare to be different.

Dare to be polite and compassionate. Use soothing words like blessed, delicious, divine, golden, heavenly…

You will have to admit that “bless you” is a cut above “fuck you” and that “this heavenly thing” sounds more palatable than “this fucking thing”.

Dare to be cleverly different. It is way smarter than to be a vulgar parrot.

Alain