Free Floating Hostility I: Misspelled Names and Inverted Sexism

Nice Face!

Well, Cinco de Mayo has come and gone. We had our little basketball tournament and fajita cook-out. And yes, I got my wish to see Three Amigos for the occasion. As the days following had passed, as that weird salsa aftertaste finally faded, as the muscles in my back slowly knitted themselves back together (you cannot fake being in shape when you play basketball... especially while getting triple-covered by Mad, Danny, and Lamothe!), and as I eventually regained use of my knee joints during this merry month of May, I've had many impulses to blog about one thing or another that's stuck in my craw for one reason or another. Usually, I forget about them... but this particular month, with all the sturm und drang I've gone through, I've decided to stir the venom around a little bit.

Oh yes, and to publicly answer to the commented assertations of a particular loyal blog reader - You don't know the news (neither good nor bad)... I wasn't talking about the surprises of X3.

But my personal announcements will remain unrevealed for the time being, so I can proceed with my personal fury being directed towards some especially deserving targets.

Before I let loose my tirade, let me pose a question to you all - Am I a bad person because I am tired of hearing about Natalee Holloway? Yes, it is tragic that a young woman with her whole life ahead of her disappeared over a year ago without a trace. I feel sorry for her family. But frankly, her story does not need to be on the national news consistently for this long. I'm going to hazard a guess that many people, young and old, disappear every year - from senseless accidents, murder, or worse. So why is the plight of a perky blonde white girl from heartland, who made one very stupid drunken decision in Aruba, somehow still of national importance a whole year later? Right now, there are earthquakes, war, civil unrest in Africa, and - Good God - Brad and Angelina just had a baby! Why are we still hearing about Natalee Holloway?

And thus, with that innocent question out of the way, I bring you my first of many to-be-blogged-about pet peeves -

Deliberately Misspelled First Names

I hate you, Ashlee Simpson. I hate you, so very...very much.

More to the point, it is the "phonetically" misspelled names that bug the hell out of me. For example - "Natalee" "Ashlee," and to a lesser extent, "Aimee." And, y'know, now that I'm looking at them, I guess that I just hate it when lazy-ass parents spell a name that should end in a "y," with a "ee". It just smatters of ineptitude. Ending with a "double e" is little kid spelling. It just sounds childish and ignorant. I guess the elementary school teacher I used to be just instinctively recoils from such mis-use of the English language. Strangely, these lapses in nomenclatural good taste seems to stem primarily from the Mid-West. On both coasts you get a lot of those "last name-first names," like "Madison," "Taylor," "Tucker," and "Piper." And while I'm not exactly crazy about those ones, either, the "double e" names simply piss me off beyond rational justification. Somehow, I think dumbing-down the spelling of one's first name is just setting that kid up for a life full of bloated expectations and colossal failure. Poor Natalee has become a cautionary tale, warning of the dangers of getting drunk on a Caribbean island and staggering into the surrounding jungle with a couple of the local boys. And Ashlee Simpson... I find it difficult to form intelligible sentences at the mere mentioning of the name of that succubus. It's also difficult to type when your vision goes blood red. Suffice to say, until I can calm down long enough to type a proper index of my vitriol, that Ashlee Simpson's blight of an existence is reason enough to never name your child with a "double e." Ever.

So there you have it - idiotic name spelling apparently leads to inevitable disaster. Keep that in mind, folks. Okay, on to my second pet peeve... one that always rears its indignant little head whenever I have the misfortune to wander around any shopping mall on Long Island for any appreciable amount of time. A trend I've witnessed progressing to such obnoxious levels as to question whether or not you've entered some bizarro-parallel world where good taste has not meaning and decorum has been abandoned...

Inverted Sexist T-Shirts

Just in case you can't read that, it says, "Lil' Slut." And yes, women wear this.

I realize that I'll probably get in trouble over this one, but then again, nobody likes to hear bad news - Women, these shirts are fucking degrading.

To coin a phrase "inverted sexist t-shirts," direct insulting characterization towards the wearer. For example, if a guy wore a shirt that said something like, "All I'm Interested In Is Boobs," that would be sexist. An inverted sexist t-shirt would be when a girl had one on that said, "Check Out These Headlights." I'm hardly what one would call a "bleeding heart," but I recognize the justice and morality of the women's rights movement. This centuries-long process of courageous women striving to be recognized as equals with men, not only in America, not only in the Western World, Hell - this is probably some intergalactic struggle for parity - has brought hard-fought-for rights to all women. Sexist and degrading stereotypes are challenged and swept away, never to be employed again. And to any sensible, mature person, these are all good things. So obviously, after generations of brave, determined women broke down all those barriers, it would make perfect sense to a new generation to gals who've inherited all these advantages - to celebrate those very same shallow and demeaning stereotypes!

As I walk through the malls these days, I'm bombarded from all sides with t-shirts sporting the most inane messages I could ever imagine (and seriously people, it's 2006 - t-shirts are already freakin' inane!) "My Daddy is Richer Than Your Daddy," "If You Buy Me Things I'll Pretend to be Your Girlfriend," "I'm Too Pretty To Do Math," "Hooray For Rich Guys," "Buy Me $tuff," "Gold Digger: Like a Hooker, Just Smarter," "Distracted by Shiny Things." This gripe is much in the same vein as my distaste for the obnoxious messages girls these days have spread across the butts of their sweat pants, "Juicy," "Princess," "Keep Staring." What surprises me more is the utter lack of uproar over this stuff. I could go on and on about what I think of this, but I think I should probably just shut up, post some more pictures, and let them speak for themselves...

I love rape humor, don't you?

Whoops! Too late!

Nobody asked

"Mt. Me"? Is that in the Skank Range?

It boggles my mind that someone would actually want to wear this crap. Oh well. It's too bad that Mother's Day has already passed, this website would've really come in handy!

Well, I feel a little better, now. But make no mistake, I'll be complaining again real soon!

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