Unless you’re living under a rock (in which case I’d really love to know how the hell you have internet access), you’ve probably heard about a little something called “KONY 2012”. Or perhaps “#KONY2012”. Or even “that super long YouTube video that made your mom all emotional”. Now before I begin to talk about this hot topic, I need to state that this is NOT me taking a stance on the KONY 2012 controversy. I’m not endorsing it, and I’m not criticising it. I’m just pointing out a rather startling pattern that I noticed today. What is that pattern you ask? Well in case you didn’t read the title of this (for shame!), KONY 2012 is the new Justin Bieber. Sound far-fetched? Questioning my intellectual capacity like that one commenter who I offended with my critique of the Swiss Chalet holiday commercials? Completely understandable. But hear me out: I think I’m onto something.
Similarity 1: It all started with a video.
For those of you rock-dwellers who aren’t familiar with either Justin Bieber or KONY 2012, let me give you a brief description of how they shot to fame. The Biebz was(is) just a Canadian preteen hangin’ out in his hometown of Stratford, Ontario, when videos in which he exhibited great musical prowess went viral on YouTube. Some Hollywood hotshots took an interest in him, he recorded a single, and BOOM he has his own nail polish (I’m not even going to lie; I own one of the shades). He has now achieved international fame, and all thanks to a video. KONY 2012 is an initiative run by the Invisible Children movement, which was relatively unheard of until (wait for it…) a video they created went viral. Through the power of social media, KONY 2012 became a household name literally overnight. Maybe JB’s rise to fame was slightly more gradual, but you have to admit it: a resemblance is there.
Similarity 2:It’s a love/hate thing.
When things become as famous as Justin Bieber and KONY 2012, people are bound to talk about them. And naturally, people are going to have extremely different opinions. This phenomenon has surrounded Biebzy (I’m trying out some new nicknames) from the start. Many people (predominately individuals who have ovaries and are under the age of 12) just can’t get enough of the Canadian Cutie (…..) and will continue to support him until the inevitable day that his voice drops and/or he actually gets someone pregnant (coincidentally, this is also the day my wildest dreams come true). But of course, he has his share of haters, and well, haterz gon’ hate. For every preteen squealing JB’s name, there’s at least one rotund middle-aged man kvetching about how he represents the downfall of society on his YouTube channel. The case is much the same for KONY 2012. When word first began to spread about KONY, most of it was good. People were stoked to make a difference through the magic of social media, and everyone loves saving kids. But low and behold, a short 24 hours later, popular opinion has split in two. People have begun posting links that criticise Invisible Children for questionable use of funds and promoting the slaughter of children (?). It looks like it just might turn out to be the most debated topic since someone first questioned the authenticity of Nikki Minaj’s ass. So whether your pro Biebz or anti Biebz, a KONY lover or a hater, it’s plain to see that this is yet another thing they share in common.
Similarity 3: They’re EVERYWHERE.
I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s impossible to go a day without seeing or hearing about Justin Bieber. It’s honestly like I’m being haunted by the ghost of his flippy hair from days of old. Open any magazine: Bieber. Turn on TV: Bieber. Facebook? Bieber. Twitter? ALL the Bieber. The guy gets around. KONY 2012 is a newer craze (like I said, it happened overnight) but it felt like everywhere I looked today, I was seeing the hashtag. BBM, Facebook, Twitter, the news, in the hallways of my school, there was no escaping it. Love it or hate it, you have to admit that Invisible Children can sure run one hell of an awareness campaign. While KONY might not yet have its own perfume or Silly Bandz, like the Bieb it too has inspired its own line of merchandise, and people are buying it. I give it a week tops before KONY 2012 support bracelets replace those weird balance bands that people insist make them more athletically competent as the hot new thing in wrist accessories. And let’s not forget the posters. While JB’s posters are predominately glamor shots of him pretending to have street cred and those favored by KONY 2012 are mostly artsy takes on the concept of propaganda, those bad boys cover walls all around the world like tacky wallpaper in an old folks home. Like I said, they’re EVERYWHERE.
Similarity 4: The fan base.
I don’t want to stereotype, but in order for this argument to work I’m going to have to a little bit. Who are most of Justin Bieber’s biggest supporters? Teenage girls. Who’s doing everything they can to get involved with KONY 2012? Teenage girls. Both Biebz and KONY 2012 seem to have an extraordinary power to inspire them to action. Sure, in the case of KONY that action is one of social activism whereas with Bieber it’s generally squealing and whipping training bras at a stage, but their impact is undeniable. So undeniable that even celebrities have taken notice. Bieber counts Usher, Kim Kardashian and Taylor Swift as fans, and he’s even won the Disney approved heart of Selena Gomez. KONY is being supported by stars like Rihanna and Olivia Wilde, and given its viral nature the list is just going to grow. Like Bieber Fever, KONY 2012 is sweeping the world at a rapid pace. Will people remember them? Well in all likelihood, history students 100 years from now are going to think Bieber Fever is “that one plague that wiped out all those people during the Renaissance”, but the KONY initiative might very well be remembered as one of the first big cases of social networking being used to support a charitable cause. Regardless of the controversy of the actual cause, it’s pretty cool how fast a topic can spread through the use of technology. And it’s also hilarious to watch people flip-flop between being pro and con.
In conclusion, I think it’s plain to see a connection here. I for one wouldn’t be at all surprised to hear that the Invisible Children documentary that started it all was released in theaters in stunning 3D. I might be crazy for seeing these similarities, but even if I haven’t convinced you, there’s still one big message to take from this post: If Justin Bieber ever gets involved with the KONY 2012 initiative, the world might explode.
Wednesday, 7 March 2012
Tuesday, 31 January 2012
Exam Personalities
January is one giant hangover of a month. After the marathon of festivities that is the holiday season ends with the shitstorm affectionately referred to as New Year’s Eve, everything really seems to go downhill. People get sick, the weather is gross, and it’s pretty much impossible to go an entire day without someone preaching about their resolutions (I’m glad you’re all striving to improve yourselves, but I’m way too lazy to join you and would prefer not to be guilt-tripped about my inaction). As if all of this wasn’t enough, January is also the time of the year when semestered high school students everywhere are forced to contend with a cruel slap in the face in the form of exams. I’m sure some people out there aren’t fazed at all by the prospect of having to remember 3+ months of information about body systems, quadratic functions or verb conjugations, but from what I’ve witnessed it’s enough to make most people a little edgy. After calling upon my observations from the many exam weeks I’ve had to endure throughout the past four years, I’ve compiled a list of the top five “exam personalities” that come out at this time of the year, or as others may refer to them, “five bat shit crazy methods people have for coping with stress”.
Personality 1: The Terminator
Most commonly seen: In the library reading 107 pages of handwritten, colour-coded notes.
Everyone knows at least one Terminator. These are the people who thrive during exam week; they were BORN ready for that shit. Most Terminators start studying at least a month before they actually need to, and don’t stop until someone has to physically pry their notes out of their cold, robot hands. While I totally respect Terminators for their dedication to their studies, a part of me can’t help but be completely terrified of them. There’s just something a little unnatural about committing an entire textbook to memory, and let’s be real: no one wants to be reminded that their study habits are complete garbage in comparison to someone else’s. So, Terminators, do us all a big favour and please, go get obscenely drunk.
Personality 2: The Recovering Drug Addict
Most commonly seen: Double-fisting Red Bulls and looking sweaty.
The Recovering Drug Addict (RDA) is characterized by symptoms similar to those found in (you guessed it!) drug addicts going through withdrawal. Constant shakes, night sweats and jumpiness are frequently seen amongst the RDA population, as well as occasional vomiting and the desire to spontaneously curl up in the fetal position. RDAs also have a tendency to develop a small dependency on caffeine as a way of coping with their stress, which really doesn’t make things any better (the only thing more dangerous than an antsy, shakey person is an even antsier, even shakier person who has to pee a lot). If you suspect that someone you love may be an RDA, a sure-fire method to test your theory is to greet them with a simple handshake. Palms clammy? Grip weak and tremory? You, my friend, have found yourself an RDA. Help them to make it through their troubled time by surrounding them with gentle music and soothing colours. They’ll thank you for it someday.
Personality 3: The Question Master
Most commonly seen: Roaming the halls looking for a specific teacher several hours before school.
It’s not unusual for people to have questions before exams. It’s helpful to have things clarified or to gain some sort of idea about what you’re being tested on, there’s no arguing that. But Question Masters take this notion to a whole new level. Question Masters have been known to come into class with a page full of questions every single day of the week leading up to exams, and usually insist on having them answered in front of the whole class at really inopportune times (ie. When the teacher is reviewing a really hard concept). Every once in a while they’ll ask something that everyone else was wondering about, but most of the time their questions are either a) Not even remotely relevant to what’s on the exam b) Really confusing c)In a foreign language or d) Downright stupid. The point of questions is supposed to be to make things make sense, and their questions usually do the opposite. Their hearts are in the right place, but if worst comes to worst, no one will blame you for tuning out whenever a Question Master raises their hand.
Personality 4: The Sloth
Most commonly seen: Napping.
Out of all the exam personalities out there, the Sloth is easily the least productive one to adopt. Unfortunately, I am a complete Sloth. Sloths like me fail to function like normal human beings during exams, and instead go into a weird state of near hibernation. Any clothing that isn’t made of fleece, spandex, or a breathable cotton-poly blend becomes completely out of the question, and baggy garments with hoods are preferred. No matter how much sleep Sloths get at night, they can’t help but take frequent naps during the day, and often find themselves waking up in a nest of blankets with no prior recollection as to how they got there. The mind of a Sloth is generally groggy and disoriented, causing them to put off any and all forms of studying until the last possible moment. This undoubtedly comes back to bite them in the ass, but hey, at least they have a solid week of laziness to show for it.
Personality 5: The Pregnant Woman
Most commonly seen: Crying whilst destroying a bag of chips and/or tub of icecream and/or rack of ribs.
In a similar fashion to the Recovering Drug Addict’s resemblance to, well, a recovering drug addict, the Pregnant Woman exam personality is eerily comparable to that of, well, a pregnant woman. The Pregnant Woman is a hot mess during exam week. Due to their great emotional instability, they are prone to violent mood swings and frequent outbursts of tears. They also stress eat like no others. No food is off limits to them, and if you try to keep them away from their culinary coping mechanism of choice? God help you. While it is more common for females to take on the Pregnant Woman personality than males, it is not unheard of for guys to sob over a quart of Ben and Jerry’s when stress has gotten the best of them. A piece of advice? DO NOT FUCK WITH THEM. THEY CAN AND WILL DESTROY YOU. And besides, hasn’t anyone ever told you that it’s disrespectful to be rude to someone who’s with child? Gosh.
Hopefully you were able to relate one or two of these personalities to someone you know, or maybe even yourself. At the very least, I hope reading about them has brought a tiny ray of joy to your post-exam recovery time. And if it hasn’t? Good news: Tomorrow’s the first day of February, and the January hangover is coming to an end!
Personality 1: The Terminator
Most commonly seen: In the library reading 107 pages of handwritten, colour-coded notes.
Everyone knows at least one Terminator. These are the people who thrive during exam week; they were BORN ready for that shit. Most Terminators start studying at least a month before they actually need to, and don’t stop until someone has to physically pry their notes out of their cold, robot hands. While I totally respect Terminators for their dedication to their studies, a part of me can’t help but be completely terrified of them. There’s just something a little unnatural about committing an entire textbook to memory, and let’s be real: no one wants to be reminded that their study habits are complete garbage in comparison to someone else’s. So, Terminators, do us all a big favour and please, go get obscenely drunk.
Personality 2: The Recovering Drug Addict
Most commonly seen: Double-fisting Red Bulls and looking sweaty.
The Recovering Drug Addict (RDA) is characterized by symptoms similar to those found in (you guessed it!) drug addicts going through withdrawal. Constant shakes, night sweats and jumpiness are frequently seen amongst the RDA population, as well as occasional vomiting and the desire to spontaneously curl up in the fetal position. RDAs also have a tendency to develop a small dependency on caffeine as a way of coping with their stress, which really doesn’t make things any better (the only thing more dangerous than an antsy, shakey person is an even antsier, even shakier person who has to pee a lot). If you suspect that someone you love may be an RDA, a sure-fire method to test your theory is to greet them with a simple handshake. Palms clammy? Grip weak and tremory? You, my friend, have found yourself an RDA. Help them to make it through their troubled time by surrounding them with gentle music and soothing colours. They’ll thank you for it someday.
Personality 3: The Question Master
Most commonly seen: Roaming the halls looking for a specific teacher several hours before school.
It’s not unusual for people to have questions before exams. It’s helpful to have things clarified or to gain some sort of idea about what you’re being tested on, there’s no arguing that. But Question Masters take this notion to a whole new level. Question Masters have been known to come into class with a page full of questions every single day of the week leading up to exams, and usually insist on having them answered in front of the whole class at really inopportune times (ie. When the teacher is reviewing a really hard concept). Every once in a while they’ll ask something that everyone else was wondering about, but most of the time their questions are either a) Not even remotely relevant to what’s on the exam b) Really confusing c)In a foreign language or d) Downright stupid. The point of questions is supposed to be to make things make sense, and their questions usually do the opposite. Their hearts are in the right place, but if worst comes to worst, no one will blame you for tuning out whenever a Question Master raises their hand.
Personality 4: The Sloth
Most commonly seen: Napping.
Out of all the exam personalities out there, the Sloth is easily the least productive one to adopt. Unfortunately, I am a complete Sloth. Sloths like me fail to function like normal human beings during exams, and instead go into a weird state of near hibernation. Any clothing that isn’t made of fleece, spandex, or a breathable cotton-poly blend becomes completely out of the question, and baggy garments with hoods are preferred. No matter how much sleep Sloths get at night, they can’t help but take frequent naps during the day, and often find themselves waking up in a nest of blankets with no prior recollection as to how they got there. The mind of a Sloth is generally groggy and disoriented, causing them to put off any and all forms of studying until the last possible moment. This undoubtedly comes back to bite them in the ass, but hey, at least they have a solid week of laziness to show for it.
Personality 5: The Pregnant Woman
Most commonly seen: Crying whilst destroying a bag of chips and/or tub of icecream and/or rack of ribs.
In a similar fashion to the Recovering Drug Addict’s resemblance to, well, a recovering drug addict, the Pregnant Woman exam personality is eerily comparable to that of, well, a pregnant woman. The Pregnant Woman is a hot mess during exam week. Due to their great emotional instability, they are prone to violent mood swings and frequent outbursts of tears. They also stress eat like no others. No food is off limits to them, and if you try to keep them away from their culinary coping mechanism of choice? God help you. While it is more common for females to take on the Pregnant Woman personality than males, it is not unheard of for guys to sob over a quart of Ben and Jerry’s when stress has gotten the best of them. A piece of advice? DO NOT FUCK WITH THEM. THEY CAN AND WILL DESTROY YOU. And besides, hasn’t anyone ever told you that it’s disrespectful to be rude to someone who’s with child? Gosh.
Hopefully you were able to relate one or two of these personalities to someone you know, or maybe even yourself. At the very least, I hope reading about them has brought a tiny ray of joy to your post-exam recovery time. And if it hasn’t? Good news: Tomorrow’s the first day of February, and the January hangover is coming to an end!
Monday, 2 January 2012
2011: A Year In Bad Jokes
The beginning of a new year is the perfect time to reflect on the past, embrace the present, and plan for the future. It's also the perfect time to get embarrassingly drunk and throw up on a new, presumably sparkly outfit, and to set goals for self improvement that are guaranteed to fail by March. God bless. In order to celebrate the dawning of 2012, I decided to look back on the wonderfully awful year that was 2011 and utilize my painfully bad sense of humor and the handy dandy interweb to summarize some of the biggest highlights. Brace yourselves folks.
Warning: The following jokes are really, really bad. I use the term "joke" very loosely.
Warning 2: Seriously? You're still going to read them? Are you dumb?
Warning 3: Yep, it would seem that you are in fact dumb. I feel bad. Oh well. Here they are.
William and Kate finally got married after years of courtship, inspiring the fairy tale dreams of young girls everywhere. I’m happy for the couple and won’t make fun of them, but I will point out the fact that Princess Beatrice’s hat totally looked like a uterus.
Charlie Sheen was urged to seek medical attention after reportedly banging enough seven-gram rocks to kill Two and a Half Men.
Justin Bieber’s rise to stardom resulted in many people from his hometown contacting the tabloids with stories from his childhood. The stories were from 2010.
World Hide-and-Seek Champion Osama Bin Laden was killed by the US, but their battle is not over. 7 horcruxes remain.
The Apple iPad achieved wild success despite having a name that makes it sound like a high tech feminine hygiene product.
Jessica Simpson was one of many celebrities to announce a pregnancy. Members of her family have requested that people refrain from referring to it as a "bun in the oven", as they don't want her to spend the next 9 months wondering if it's a baby or a loaf of bread.
Amy Winehouse became one of many celebrities to die tragically young due substance abuse. Listening to her song “Rehab” is now really fucking awkward.
Rebecca Black became famous after releasing a song in which she struggles with great internal conflict over two seat options in a convertible. For the sake of humanity, I pray she never winds up on a half empty bus.
Kim Kardashian and Kris Humphries' elaborate wedding proved to be a waste of money when they divorced after 72 days. Sources close to the family claim that the marriage failed due to the fact that Kim Kardashian realized that her husband was someone who would marry Kim Kardashian.
Tragically, Michelle Duggar miscarried while pregnant with her 20th child. Fortunately, her family has been comforted by statistical evidence that 15% of all "Your Mom" jokes still refer to her.
"Kim Jong Il" is now "Kim Jong Dead."
Chances are you cringed at least three times while reading those and may have broken out in hives. But hey, I told you I'm not in any way funny, and THAT'S what you get for ignoring my warnings. Anyways, Happy New Year everyone! May all of your futile resolutions provide you with temporary hope for the future.
Warning: The following jokes are really, really bad. I use the term "joke" very loosely.
Warning 2: Seriously? You're still going to read them? Are you dumb?
Warning 3: Yep, it would seem that you are in fact dumb. I feel bad. Oh well. Here they are.
William and Kate finally got married after years of courtship, inspiring the fairy tale dreams of young girls everywhere. I’m happy for the couple and won’t make fun of them, but I will point out the fact that Princess Beatrice’s hat totally looked like a uterus.
Charlie Sheen was urged to seek medical attention after reportedly banging enough seven-gram rocks to kill Two and a Half Men.
Justin Bieber’s rise to stardom resulted in many people from his hometown contacting the tabloids with stories from his childhood. The stories were from 2010.
World Hide-and-Seek Champion Osama Bin Laden was killed by the US, but their battle is not over. 7 horcruxes remain.
The Apple iPad achieved wild success despite having a name that makes it sound like a high tech feminine hygiene product.
Jessica Simpson was one of many celebrities to announce a pregnancy. Members of her family have requested that people refrain from referring to it as a "bun in the oven", as they don't want her to spend the next 9 months wondering if it's a baby or a loaf of bread.
Amy Winehouse became one of many celebrities to die tragically young due substance abuse. Listening to her song “Rehab” is now really fucking awkward.
Rebecca Black became famous after releasing a song in which she struggles with great internal conflict over two seat options in a convertible. For the sake of humanity, I pray she never winds up on a half empty bus.
Kim Kardashian and Kris Humphries' elaborate wedding proved to be a waste of money when they divorced after 72 days. Sources close to the family claim that the marriage failed due to the fact that Kim Kardashian realized that her husband was someone who would marry Kim Kardashian.
Tragically, Michelle Duggar miscarried while pregnant with her 20th child. Fortunately, her family has been comforted by statistical evidence that 15% of all "Your Mom" jokes still refer to her.
"Kim Jong Il" is now "Kim Jong Dead."
Chances are you cringed at least three times while reading those and may have broken out in hives. But hey, I told you I'm not in any way funny, and THAT'S what you get for ignoring my warnings. Anyways, Happy New Year everyone! May all of your futile resolutions provide you with temporary hope for the future.
Monday, 26 December 2011
Things I Learned This Christmas
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!
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!
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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