For most people, the holidays are a truly special time full of family, friends, and unspoken social customs governing everything from the greetings you can use to just HOW much nutmeg is acceptable when garnishing eggnog. In my case, however, “the most wonderful time of the year” is mostly just characterized by my baking addiction coming to the surface in the form of a frightening quantity of gingerbread cookies, and by me ceasing to wear anything that doesn’t have an elastic waistband. It’s a pretty swell time. But besides being the prime time for me to embrace my inner sloth, the holidays also never fail to provide a great learning opportunity for me. I come from a decently big family on both my Mom and Dad’s sides, so it’s a given that wacky hijinks never fail to ensue at our annual gatherings. This year did not disappoint. Over many glasses of wine, multiple turkeys and an impressive number of cocktail shrimp, the things my relatives said and did this year taught me four valuable lessons that I have listed below for the benefit of the (maybe two) people who are reading this.
Lesson 1
On the morning of Christmas Eve (I feel like that’s an oxymoron), my family collected in the home of my Aunt and Uncle for brunch. Upon arriving at 11am, I was completely heartbroken by a tragic lack of bacon, but my thoughts were soon diverted by an exchange I witnessed between my mom and my Aunt.
Aunt: “Can I get you anything to drink?”
Mom: “I don’t know, it’s kind of early.”
Aunt: “It’s after 10:30.”
Mom: “That’s true! What do you have?”
They then proceeded to get their drink on along with every other member of my family over the age of 14. You might be thinking “Oh, that’s not weird! My family has champagne at brunch all the time.” This was not champagne. This was screwdrivers, rum and cokes, beer, and other things that have been the downfall of many an Irishman. While I find it sort of respectable that my relatives are capable of going so hard in the seasonal paint, the fact that this happens decently often has started to be a source of mild concern. And let’s be real, no one should be hungover before 2pm.
Lesson Learned: I have a genetic predisposition to alcoholism.
Lesson 2
After everyone was fully saturated with food-and-booze-induced shame at the aforementioned brunch, the relationship statuses of the younger generation of our family came up in conversation. This is always an awkward subject for me to participate in due to the fact that 98.3% of the Forever Single jokes people make refer to me, but there’s 10 of us cousins and I’m usually not the only one flying solo so I just smile and try not to get bitter enough that I turn into the Incredible Hulk (it happens). But this year was different. Not one, not two, but 6 out of the 10 of us are now happily coupled up. That might not sound bad, but you have to take in the fact that 2 of the 4 of us who are still single are under the age of ten, and even then they probably have more wheels than I do. As I contemplated fashioning myself a noose out of tinsel, I was forced to endure excruciating looks of pity and several half-hearted choruses of “You’ll find someone someday!” Thanks, family, for holding on to hope, but I’m resigned to my fate as a crazy cat lady. Even if I am really fucking allergic to cats and will have to drink at least 4 liters of Benedryl a day in order to survive.
Lesson Learned: I may die alone and I hate everyone.
Lesson 3
Later on that day, my Dad’s side of the family came over for dinner and drinks (I wasn’t kidding about the alcoholism thing.) My relatives are awesome folks, but there’s one conversation I always have with them that is several shades of uncomfortable. Yesterday, it went as follows:
Relative: “Hi, dear! How’s school going?”
Me: “Pretty good! I’m definitely enjoying being off for a while though.”
Relative: “I bet! My, you’ve gotten so slim!”
Me: “Gee, thanks!”
This might sound like a nice little chat, but the actual translation is something more like this:
Relative: “Hi, dear! How’s school going?”
Me: “Pretty good! I’m definitely enjoying being off for a while though.”
Relative: “I bet! But holy shit, you’re a lot less fat than you used to be! For a while there you seriously looked like Jonah Hill. Except less pretty.”
Me: “I’m really uncomfortable and don’t know how to reply to your backhanded compliment other than with a thank you.”
Anyone who was a hefty child or large and in charge during their preteen phase can hopefully sympathize with this ordeal. While most people who comment on your improved appearance think they’re being nice, it really just serves as a reminder that you had baby fat until you were 15 years old and Fritos used to be your only friend. But since it was Christmas, I tried to let it slide. After all, it’s the thought that counts. Even if that thought makes you die a little inside every time it’s expressed.
Lesson Learned: My fat years did NOT go unnoticed.
Lesson 4
Christmas day in my house was spent in a frenzy of cooking and cleaning in the cases of my Mom, Dad, and sister, and eating and napping in the case of me. But despite me taking one for the team and keeping to myself to avoid interfering with their activities, the day was not without conflict. The main source of it? The soundtrack. The members of my household have very differing opinions on what constitutes good music; my Dad’s a little bit country, I’m a little bit rock and roll, and my Mom thought Friday by Rebecca Black “wasn’t that bad” which really tells you all you need to know. So needless to say, it’s pretty damn hard for us to agree on festive beats without someone becoming bitter and hostile. But after hours of sparring over radio station changes and one strategically misplaced Jessica Simpson holiday album (you’re welcome, world), a miracle occurred. And that miracle’s name was Michael Buble. Roughly one minute into his chilling rendition of “It’s a Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas”, a magical calm fell over us all. There was humming, there was smiling, and I’m pretty sure I saw my Dad swoon a little. And man, I don’t blame him. I want The Bub to live in my closet so he can serenade me whenever I want. Either that, or I’ll have to go all Ursula from The Little Mermaid on his ass and steal his voice for myself. Can you imagine all the guys I’d get if I sounded like that? …Yeah, probably none, but that’s okay. Like I said, I plan to invest in multiple cats. Anyways, the moral of the story here is that Michael Buble has the voice of an angel and I want to bear his children.
Lesson Learned: Michael Buble has the voice of an angel and I want to bear his children.
All in all, this Christmas was pretty awesome. Not only did I gain a fantastic layer of celebration insulation (that means fat for you laymen), but also a vast wealth of knowledge at the hands of my relatives. And you know what? I think that’s what the holidays are really about. It’s not the presents, the decorations, or the music; all that matters is the embarrassingly inebriated people you spend them with. Happy first day of Kwanzaa everyone!
Monday 26 December 2011
Tuesday 20 December 2011
The Most 5 Irksome Types of People During the Holidays
It's that time of the year again. Halls are being decked, dreidels are being spun, and mall Santa's are being painfully underpaid to put up with hundreds of children crawling all over them. The magic of the holidays (Am I allowed to say holidays? Is that politically incorrect now?) has returned. But unfortunately, along with this magic comes a horrible consequence. And that consequence is five kinds of super annoying people who come out, guns blazing, at this time every year. Who are these pains in the neck of the season you ask? Well, I'll tell you.
1. The person who talks endlessly about their wishlist.
Catch phrase: "OMG, I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO ASK FOR THIS YEAR!"
Description: During childhood, almost everyone falls into this category, and in all fairness the greediness of the young can almost be perceived as cute. Their demands to Santa are sloppily written on scraps of paper and mailed to the North Pole, and I must say that I admire their dedication. However, after a certain age, constantly telling people your gift expectations stops being adorable and just makes everyone want to hit you in the face, possibly with a menorah or Christmas wreath just for added effect. I don't want to be that person who burdens you with crippling guilt about all things festive (see number 3), but with maturity should come an understanding that gifts are a privilege, not a right. Conjuring up a wishlist in your head and being super stoked about the gifts you DO end up receiving is more than okay, but ranting about the heart-wrenching conflict of whether to request an iPhone or a Blackberry as your stocking stuffer just makes you sound like a spoiled four year old. So unless you ARE a spoiled four year old (in which case I'm deeply sorry for being rude and I really hope you get that pony you asked for), do yourself and everyone else a favour and please shut up.
2. The person who makes gift-giving into a competition.
Catch phrase: "I know we agreed on a $20 limit, but I just had to get you this!"
Description: Before I begin, it needs to be established that this particular class of holiday monstrosity is not to be confused with the kind, generous souls who give people extravagant gifts out of the goodness of their heart. Those people are awesome. I love those people. But these are not those people. Everyone knows at least one person who manages to take the jolly activity of gift giving and warp it into a cutthroat competition that may or may not involve tears and/or blood shed. This is the person who hears what you're getting someone, and gets the same person five of the same thing just to outdo you. Buy someone a CD by their favourite artist? Ha,amateur. They'll get them tickets to the concert, an autographed poster AND backstage passes. Make someone a heartfelt construction paper card? Good try! Theirs will have a more touching message, be decorated with glitter glue and probably sing when you open it. No matter what you do, they'll always do it better. And while it may be nice for the recipient of the gift, the awesomeness of the presents will always be tainted by the evil intentions behind them. So please, gift one-uppers? Stop making the rest of us look bad and just start giving people soap or something.
3. The person who burdens you with crippling guilt about all things festive.
Catch phrase: Anything full of thinly veiled condescension.
Description: This class of holiday ruiner is perhaps the most varied and despicable of the five. These people are characterized by their unnerving ability to leech the fun out of traditional activities and leave behind a horrible feeling of guilt in its place. We've all been there: you're at some sort of festive gathering where people are exchanging gifts, and notice that one person is empty-handed. "Well gee," you say to the person "Did your Secret Santa forget your gift?" THIS IS ALWAYS A MISTAKE. The individual can smell your misguided pity from a mile away, and will quickly chime in with something like "I've actually requested not to receive any gifts this year, or any year for that matter, until poverty is resolved worldwide. If children in Ethiopia can't have Secret Santa gifts, neither can I." After that, shit just gets awkward. Suddenly your happy little party turns into a disgusting display of excess and you can't get the image of little Mowgli working in a sweatshop for pennies a day out of your head. Similarly awful is the person with logic-defying self restraint who watches you shovel down pumpkin pie with an expression laced with horror and disgust. "You know there's like two thousand calories in the crust alone, right?" Yes, I am aware, thank you. And now I'm feeling nice and guilty. But do I give a fuck? No. So leave me and my pie alone, this ain't the season to harp on people about their food intake. And by the way, while you're freezing your ass off with a watchful eye kept on the scale? I'll be warm and toasty in my feasting pants thanks to my convenient layer of holiday fat. That's what's up.
4. The person who basically spews tinsel every time they speak from November until January.
Catch phrase: "5 MORE WEEKS UNTIL CHRISTMAS/HANUKKAH/KWANZAA!!!1!!!1!!1!!!!"
Description: A little bit of holiday spirit goes a long way. While it is definitely important to embrace this special time of the year as the magical occasion it is, there is such a thing as taking it too far. How far is too far you ask? Starting your Christmas countdown in October seems like a good place to start. It's crazy enough that stores are putting out their seasonal merchandise earlier and earlier with every passing year, so when you toss in someone singing carols two days after Halloween, it's a bit too much to handle. As if the premature nature of these individuals' excitement wasn't enough, it increases in magnitude with every passing day as they draw nearer to the event dearest to their heart. Christmas fanatics are the most intense of all, and become downright intolerable by the time mid-December rolls around. Avoiding these people is one of the keys to surviving the season, and can be managed by learning to recognize telltale signs. Tacky sweaters and an unusually jolly disposition are often good clues, but two surefire giveaways are the wearing of a flashing Christmas light necklace or reindeer antlers. If an individual is observed with either of these items on their person, get out of there fast. Your sanity depends on it.
5. The person who won't shut up about how Christmas is a capitalistic tradition.
Catch phrase: "Jesus wasn't even born in the winter."
Description: I'll keep this one brief, since everyone knows the kind of person I'm talking about. They're the ones that kill your buzz by criticizing all the traditions of Christmas and reminding you that holidays are "just an elaborate ruse created by the government and the greeting card industry to turn a profit". And I guess that may be true, but so what? The cash cow that is December is one of the best months of the year, and I for one am not going to let it be ruined by conspiracy theories. So rant all you want, I'm still going to spend obscene amounts of money on my friends and family, and I'm going to enjoy every minute of it.
If you or someone you know bears an uncanny resemblance to any of the stereotypes listed above, I'm sorry if I came across as Scroogey in my criticism. I'm sure you're an awesome person, and look on the bright side: maybe this will help you to become less annoying! Because really, isn't trying to piss people off less than usual what the festive season is all about? Happy holidays!
1. The person who talks endlessly about their wishlist.
Catch phrase: "OMG, I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO ASK FOR THIS YEAR!"
Description: During childhood, almost everyone falls into this category, and in all fairness the greediness of the young can almost be perceived as cute. Their demands to Santa are sloppily written on scraps of paper and mailed to the North Pole, and I must say that I admire their dedication. However, after a certain age, constantly telling people your gift expectations stops being adorable and just makes everyone want to hit you in the face, possibly with a menorah or Christmas wreath just for added effect. I don't want to be that person who burdens you with crippling guilt about all things festive (see number 3), but with maturity should come an understanding that gifts are a privilege, not a right. Conjuring up a wishlist in your head and being super stoked about the gifts you DO end up receiving is more than okay, but ranting about the heart-wrenching conflict of whether to request an iPhone or a Blackberry as your stocking stuffer just makes you sound like a spoiled four year old. So unless you ARE a spoiled four year old (in which case I'm deeply sorry for being rude and I really hope you get that pony you asked for), do yourself and everyone else a favour and please shut up.
2. The person who makes gift-giving into a competition.
Catch phrase: "I know we agreed on a $20 limit, but I just had to get you this!"
Description: Before I begin, it needs to be established that this particular class of holiday monstrosity is not to be confused with the kind, generous souls who give people extravagant gifts out of the goodness of their heart. Those people are awesome. I love those people. But these are not those people. Everyone knows at least one person who manages to take the jolly activity of gift giving and warp it into a cutthroat competition that may or may not involve tears and/or blood shed. This is the person who hears what you're getting someone, and gets the same person five of the same thing just to outdo you. Buy someone a CD by their favourite artist? Ha,amateur. They'll get them tickets to the concert, an autographed poster AND backstage passes. Make someone a heartfelt construction paper card? Good try! Theirs will have a more touching message, be decorated with glitter glue and probably sing when you open it. No matter what you do, they'll always do it better. And while it may be nice for the recipient of the gift, the awesomeness of the presents will always be tainted by the evil intentions behind them. So please, gift one-uppers? Stop making the rest of us look bad and just start giving people soap or something.
3. The person who burdens you with crippling guilt about all things festive.
Catch phrase: Anything full of thinly veiled condescension.
Description: This class of holiday ruiner is perhaps the most varied and despicable of the five. These people are characterized by their unnerving ability to leech the fun out of traditional activities and leave behind a horrible feeling of guilt in its place. We've all been there: you're at some sort of festive gathering where people are exchanging gifts, and notice that one person is empty-handed. "Well gee," you say to the person "Did your Secret Santa forget your gift?" THIS IS ALWAYS A MISTAKE. The individual can smell your misguided pity from a mile away, and will quickly chime in with something like "I've actually requested not to receive any gifts this year, or any year for that matter, until poverty is resolved worldwide. If children in Ethiopia can't have Secret Santa gifts, neither can I." After that, shit just gets awkward. Suddenly your happy little party turns into a disgusting display of excess and you can't get the image of little Mowgli working in a sweatshop for pennies a day out of your head. Similarly awful is the person with logic-defying self restraint who watches you shovel down pumpkin pie with an expression laced with horror and disgust. "You know there's like two thousand calories in the crust alone, right?" Yes, I am aware, thank you. And now I'm feeling nice and guilty. But do I give a fuck? No. So leave me and my pie alone, this ain't the season to harp on people about their food intake. And by the way, while you're freezing your ass off with a watchful eye kept on the scale? I'll be warm and toasty in my feasting pants thanks to my convenient layer of holiday fat. That's what's up.
4. The person who basically spews tinsel every time they speak from November until January.
Catch phrase: "5 MORE WEEKS UNTIL CHRISTMAS/HANUKKAH/KWANZAA!!!1!!!1!!1!!!!"
Description: A little bit of holiday spirit goes a long way. While it is definitely important to embrace this special time of the year as the magical occasion it is, there is such a thing as taking it too far. How far is too far you ask? Starting your Christmas countdown in October seems like a good place to start. It's crazy enough that stores are putting out their seasonal merchandise earlier and earlier with every passing year, so when you toss in someone singing carols two days after Halloween, it's a bit too much to handle. As if the premature nature of these individuals' excitement wasn't enough, it increases in magnitude with every passing day as they draw nearer to the event dearest to their heart. Christmas fanatics are the most intense of all, and become downright intolerable by the time mid-December rolls around. Avoiding these people is one of the keys to surviving the season, and can be managed by learning to recognize telltale signs. Tacky sweaters and an unusually jolly disposition are often good clues, but two surefire giveaways are the wearing of a flashing Christmas light necklace or reindeer antlers. If an individual is observed with either of these items on their person, get out of there fast. Your sanity depends on it.
5. The person who won't shut up about how Christmas is a capitalistic tradition.
Catch phrase: "Jesus wasn't even born in the winter."
Description: I'll keep this one brief, since everyone knows the kind of person I'm talking about. They're the ones that kill your buzz by criticizing all the traditions of Christmas and reminding you that holidays are "just an elaborate ruse created by the government and the greeting card industry to turn a profit". And I guess that may be true, but so what? The cash cow that is December is one of the best months of the year, and I for one am not going to let it be ruined by conspiracy theories. So rant all you want, I'm still going to spend obscene amounts of money on my friends and family, and I'm going to enjoy every minute of it.
If you or someone you know bears an uncanny resemblance to any of the stereotypes listed above, I'm sorry if I came across as Scroogey in my criticism. I'm sure you're an awesome person, and look on the bright side: maybe this will help you to become less annoying! Because really, isn't trying to piss people off less than usual what the festive season is all about? Happy holidays!
Thursday 15 December 2011
Why Commercials Today Are Completely Terrible.
Last night while watching TV, I had a Swiss Chalet induced epiphany. Unfortunately for Swiss Chalet, the subject of said epiphany was not "Wow, your ribs really are as good as your chicken!", but rather "Holy shit, advertisements today are so bad that I almost want to stop watching Diners, Drive-ins and Dives and go do something productive with my time." While ALMOST is definitely the key word in that phrase (let's be real, Triple D is awesome), the moral of the story is that commercials today are completely and totally terrible. Sure, every once in a while a company like Old Spice churns out a real gem that makes me want to grow a beard just so I can use their aftershave, but lately I keep finding myself wondering how in the world most ad campaigns are even relevant to the product they aim to sell. Take the Swiss Chalet commercial that caused my moment of realization for example.
SCENE: A father and his two children are joyfully decking out their house in Christmas lights when, in a tragic turn of events, they discover that one of the lights has burnt out.
"Oh no!" Father and daughter seem to exclaim through their horrified expressions. "Without a properly functioning strand of lights, the holidays will surely be ruined!" The atmosphere is rife with suspense. Just when it seems that there is no way to salvage the trainwreck that is their festive family activity and that it will surely kick off a downward spiral leading to substance abuse and a broken home, the heroic son whips out a bag of Lindt chocolate balls and chipperly declares "Hey Dad! I found the spares!" Cue smiles all around and a scene cut to an intimate, well-lit family meal at Swiss Chalet, the classiest of cheap family restaurants specializing in the art of rotisserie. All individuals present for the meal are having a blast, when a bag of Lindt balls is whipped out yet again, this time by the father (seriously, where the hell are they getting these from?) "Hey dad," says the cherubic young daughter, "Got any spares?" Boy oh boy, do they ever laugh!
END SCENE.
Now, you might say that that sounds like a nice, heartwarming advertisement to air during the holiday season. Fact: you are so wrong. While the themes of family and food are logical, beyond that the whole thing goes to complete shit. The message of the ad is essentially "Hey! We give out free chocolate! People like chocolate! And we're really sorry about that one time you got food poisoning from our coleslaw!" Thanks, Swiss Chalet. But has it ever occurred to you that if people really loved Lindt balls that much, they could just go buy them at the drug store? Yes, we all love free stuff, but not enough to shell out cash on (occasionally soggy) french fries and deliciously oversalted gravy unless we were already planning on doing so. Also, I'm sorry, but the kids in the commercial are total smartasses. I know their cheeky remarks about "spares" are supposed to be hilarious examples of the wit of children, but all I hear when they open their mouths is maniacal laughter that gives me Nam-like flashbacks to the enemies of my childhood. And folks, it ain't pretty.
To make matters worse, this phenomenon of commercials that are just plain stupid can be seen EVERYWHERE. We live in a society where vaccinations protecting against cervical cancer are encouraged by a chick screaming while she punches through some sort of glass wall, and a soft-speaking woman in a cashmere sweater is known as a sure sign of an accurate pregnancy test. Gum companies are busy either subjecting people to what appear to be weird drug trips (5) or punching people in the gut so they'll have to buy more of the product (Stride). Whether you use tampons in "98 rainbow colours" or ones that are "just plain effective" determines what type of person you are, and the car insurance company you choose will basically change your life. I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried. Now I'm not saying that I could do any better, and I'm sure someone could easily argue that these campaigns raise sales, but please, next time you're watching TV, take in how weird things have gotten. Just humour me.
SCENE: A father and his two children are joyfully decking out their house in Christmas lights when, in a tragic turn of events, they discover that one of the lights has burnt out.
"Oh no!" Father and daughter seem to exclaim through their horrified expressions. "Without a properly functioning strand of lights, the holidays will surely be ruined!" The atmosphere is rife with suspense. Just when it seems that there is no way to salvage the trainwreck that is their festive family activity and that it will surely kick off a downward spiral leading to substance abuse and a broken home, the heroic son whips out a bag of Lindt chocolate balls and chipperly declares "Hey Dad! I found the spares!" Cue smiles all around and a scene cut to an intimate, well-lit family meal at Swiss Chalet, the classiest of cheap family restaurants specializing in the art of rotisserie. All individuals present for the meal are having a blast, when a bag of Lindt balls is whipped out yet again, this time by the father (seriously, where the hell are they getting these from?) "Hey dad," says the cherubic young daughter, "Got any spares?" Boy oh boy, do they ever laugh!
END SCENE.
Now, you might say that that sounds like a nice, heartwarming advertisement to air during the holiday season. Fact: you are so wrong. While the themes of family and food are logical, beyond that the whole thing goes to complete shit. The message of the ad is essentially "Hey! We give out free chocolate! People like chocolate! And we're really sorry about that one time you got food poisoning from our coleslaw!" Thanks, Swiss Chalet. But has it ever occurred to you that if people really loved Lindt balls that much, they could just go buy them at the drug store? Yes, we all love free stuff, but not enough to shell out cash on (occasionally soggy) french fries and deliciously oversalted gravy unless we were already planning on doing so. Also, I'm sorry, but the kids in the commercial are total smartasses. I know their cheeky remarks about "spares" are supposed to be hilarious examples of the wit of children, but all I hear when they open their mouths is maniacal laughter that gives me Nam-like flashbacks to the enemies of my childhood. And folks, it ain't pretty.
To make matters worse, this phenomenon of commercials that are just plain stupid can be seen EVERYWHERE. We live in a society where vaccinations protecting against cervical cancer are encouraged by a chick screaming while she punches through some sort of glass wall, and a soft-speaking woman in a cashmere sweater is known as a sure sign of an accurate pregnancy test. Gum companies are busy either subjecting people to what appear to be weird drug trips (5) or punching people in the gut so they'll have to buy more of the product (Stride). Whether you use tampons in "98 rainbow colours" or ones that are "just plain effective" determines what type of person you are, and the car insurance company you choose will basically change your life. I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried. Now I'm not saying that I could do any better, and I'm sure someone could easily argue that these campaigns raise sales, but please, next time you're watching TV, take in how weird things have gotten. Just humour me.
Friday 9 December 2011
Disclaimer.
As you can probably tell by the horribly uncomfortable feeling of pity that crept over you before you even began reading this, I probably shouldn't be allowed to talk. If it's any comfort to you, I am fully aware of this fact and have been ever since the day my first words caused my parents to recoil in horror. My childhood and early youth were a string of constant, cringe-inducing puns and one-liners, and from my awkward preteen years onward things just got worse. While I've come to accept my identity as a chronic maker of bad jokes, the fact of the matter is that more often than not the things I say are downright painful to hear. But that's okay, because approximately 2.5 horribly misguided individuals actually think I'm funny, and I'm pretty sure at least one of them isn't my Mom. So that's why I'm making a complete ass of myself and starting a blog. Many people in the past have encouraged me to take my embarrassing rants to the internet, presumably as an attempt to get me to shut up and leave them alone (which isn't going to happen by the way. Also, why are none of you guys responding to my texts? Or my bbms? Or my Facebook inboxes? Or my voicemails? Or my bimonthly Newsletter?) But because of the fact that I've trained myself to ignore negative feedback and instead imagine that everything I say is received with applause and confetti, I'm going to pretend that there are actually people out there whose days might be brightened by the stupid shit I say, and thus I will continue to say stupid shit. So please, even though I shouldn't talk, just humour me. You just might end up being misguided individual number 3.5.
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