Contrarianism – Why the Grammy’s was the epitome of Liberal fallacies

Millennials are always playing sensible and completely age-appropriate games nowadays, such as “The floor is lava!” and “Let’s all eat Tide Pods!”, however, they normally last about as long as a Millennial doing manual labour; soon to be replaced by yet another completely grown-up and safe trend.

Keep an eye out for “How long can you keep your hand in the garbage disposal – when it’s switched on?!” any day now…

The game that is currently being played by these little work-shy fops; what I call “The Contrarian Olympics”, is something a little different however. This one has been being played for quite a while now; and there’s no sign of it fizzling out anytime soon. In fact, it’s getting more popular by the day.

Basically, the premise of the game is to take a universally held fact; for instance, that men and women are different in almost every aspect, and then completely flip it on it’s head until it becomes the exact polar opposite. Then, you have to convince people that they have been wrong all along not to believe what you’re saying. This can be achieved in many ways, but the most popular way is to simply call the person racist (even if race is not even involved) and just watch how quickly they’ll believe you! They’ll be marching by your side, placard in hand and shouting to the rooftops about why it’s so important to: “fry pigs in blankets like bacon”.

Like I said earlier, Liberals have been playing Contrarian Olympics for quite some time now, and The Grammy Awards 2018 was a shining example of this.

Riding the crimson wave of the #MeToo and #Timesup movements, the Grammy’s was dubbed as being one of the pinnacles of the “non-white, non-male-dominated”, liberal-soaked, awards carnivals. It was supposed to show that love and respect for women, and people of any other colour than white, were characteristics only shown by people who are on the left of the political and social spectrums.

And it failed spectacularly. Here’s a few reasons why the Grammy’s failed, simply by playing “Contrarian Olympics”:

1) Jay-Z is an “ally” of the oppressed; a champion of women’s rights and a seeker of equality through peace and civility. We should follow his example.

In reality:

Jay-Z once stabbed a man; had a physical fight with his sister-in-law; cheated on his wife; raps about bitches, hoes and faggots; is “all about da bling” (he covets money and riches you dumb-old white guys..) and used to be a drug dealer.

But yeah, let’s look up to him eh?

2) Men are not the focus of the awards tonight; women’s voices have been ignored for too long and tonight is about celebrating them. Women WILL be heard and women WILL be justly rewarded for their work.

In reality:

Out of the 28 main categories, only 1 was won by a woman.

Yeeeaahhh…..

3) Women are more than just sex-objects, and should NOT be objectified in the slightest. We are more than just pieces of meat to be used to sell products.

In reality:

Rihanna; who likes to sing songs about how excited she gets when she sees whips and chains, turned up in a very revealing dress and started hip-thrusting towards Dj Khaled in a “I want you and all of the people watching to dream about having sex with me” – kind of a way.

Oh, and please buy her new record.

But don’t you DARE objectify her.

4) The Grammy’s 2018 is going to show the entire world that our voices will be heard and that we are reaching out to every corner of the globe to spread our message.

In reality:

The Grammy’s 2018 had the lowest ratings of all time, down by 20% from the previous year.

It’s almost as if people don’t want to hear a certain narrative…

In the end, The Grammy’s was a complete and utter failure. Not that any Liberal will tell you that themselves though. Remember; Liberals tend to ignore facts to ensure their own version of events take precedence, and that’s why it’s so important not to get caught up in playing Contrarian Olympics. Just like playing “catch the flaming chainsaw” or “wear a meat-suit while in lion’s cage“; playing Contrarian Olympics will only end in tears.

Facts speak louder than fallacies.

Remember the sky is NOT green and the grass is NOT blue.

RANT OVER

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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How to teach Sex Education the RIGHT way…

Happy New Year!

It’s only the 1st day of 2018 and already I’m ready to rant about more liberal nonsense.

Take this little beauty of an article in the Metro by Lifestyle Editor Ellen Scott entitled:

Why you should buy your teenage kids sex toys

Seriously. Go and read it and come back.

I’ll wait.

If, like me, you’re ready to snap your laptop in two, then we’ll begin.

So. The premise of this article, we are told, is not to “buy your son a Fisher Price sex-doll, or your daughter an 8 inch strap-on for her 8th birthday”.

Oh no, that would be crazy…

No, the reason for the article is as “a way to introduce your offspring to the concept of self-pleasure.”

Yes. You heard that right.

She’s suggesting that you buy sex-toys for your teenager

Ok, first of all: it’s a parents job to make sure their kids grow up healthy and safe, with enough food to eat and a roof over their head.

It’s not the job of a parent to sit down with their child and ask if they’d prefer a Pulsating Pussy or a Butt Plug.

lots-of-gifts

Generally, when it comes to discussing sex with your kids, I always find that less is more. The most that me and my parents talked about it was when I came home from school with a pocketful of condoms from Sex Education, to which my Dad warned me:

“Don’t let your sister see those!”

That was it. And the lesson I took from that is: don’t tell kids too much about adult subjects.

They’re called Adult subjects for a reason.

I know it’s the “cool” thing for parents to talk about everything with their kids now; the “no barriers” approach that single parents tend to  take in order to stay relevant to their kids. You know the ones: they’re the parents going through a mid-life crisis post-divorce who begin dressing the same as their kids and actually hanging out as friends and drinking buddies.

“Don’t go with Dad/Mam! Stay with me your Dad/Mam, I’m cool and can relate to you! I’m more like a best-friend than a parent! I’ll let you drink and snort coke with me!”

There’s just certain things that parents and kids don’t talk about in order to have a healthy relationship, and masturbation with sex toys is definitely one of them. Kids know about sex, and parents know their teens masturbate. Let’s just stay oblivious eh?

Can you imagine a single Father having to sit his daughter down and ask her if she wants a sex-toy?

He’d be in prison before he could say “but muh progressive parenting..”

So parents, the only thing I can say to those of you who might be considering offering sex-aids to your kids is: Don’t.

If you really want to help your kids when it comes to sex, do it the old-fashioned way:

Stock up the freezer with plenty of frozen Hot-dogs (a-la “Family Guy”) and occasionally replace the crusty sock that’s stashed under your son’s bed.

And then go about your business. Trust me, the kids will appreciate it more.

RANT OVER

 

 

Hints and Tips for the Middle-aged Traveller

My wife and I take my kids on holiday abroad at least once a year, generally to an All Inclusive Beach resort with slides and pools, in order to let the kids have limitless fun, me have limitless beer, (or at least the option of limitless beer; I don’t allow myself to drink more than one or two in front of my kids because, well, responsibility?) and it allows my wife to feel good about having 6 plates of food from the buffet because her first plate was a salad. When I hear people say that taking kids on holiday is one of the most stressful things you can do, I honestly believe that these people just aren’t doing it properly.

When my children’s Mother and her Husband take them on holiday however, it’s the most stressful time of my life. They’re off enjoying themselves in the sun, leaving me at home to watch the clock while awaiting their return, scouring the News for anything “Terroristy” happening. Before I met my wife, these week-long torture trials were exhausting and lonely; filled with paranoid visions of my kids slipping beside the pool and braining themselves, becoming the next Madeleine McCann, or simply walking in front of a Terrorists bullet/truck/suicide vest.

Horrible, horrible times.

My wife, being the “sensible one” in the relationship, only managed to sit through one year of this obviously self-inflicted torture I was putting myself through and decided that when the kids go away with their Mother the following year, we were going to have our own little break somewhere. Just me and her, visiting cities and places we’d always wanted to see, but couldn’t go to because, well; which 9-year-old kid wants to go to Vatican City?

We were going to go travelling.

Since then, me and the wife have ticked off quite a bit of our Bucket Lists, and learnt a lot about the right way and the wrong way to go travelling, especially at our age.

You see, it’s different travelling when you’re in your teens, or early twenties. You can hop on a plane with barely any money and only a backpack full of tie-dye T-shirts and have a spontaneous, yet amazingly self-enriching time.

When you hit your forties and fifties, you can’t be as carefree and as “like, totally Random” as the young-uns. You need to plan, and you need to know your limits.

So with that in mind, here are some tips for the Middle-aged Traveller from someone who is fast becoming a “dab-hand” at this travelling mallarkey.

1) Leave your guilt and worry at home.

The first time we went away without the kids I felt terrible, and it led to me not being able to relax and enjoy the first couple of days of our trip as much as I should have. “What kind of parent leaves their children whilst trotting the globe?” I asked my wife while crying into my ridiculously over-priced, and to be honest, appallingly tasting Aperol Spritz. What I failed to understand was that I wasn’t leaving my kids; they were busy sunning themselves in Ibiza with their Mother, and that I was on this trip to try to ease my own suffering about them not being with me.

Silly boy.

The fact was, as my wife calmly (through gritted-teeth) told me, was that the kids were never going to be with me during this week anyway, so I may as well enjoy it.

So, if like me, you have kids from a previous relationship and you go on a “Couple’s Vacation” when the kids aren’t scheduled to be with you, then don’t feel guilty. Make the best of a bad situation and enjoy yourself.

If, however, you have kids and simply choose to leave them with family, friends or the Neighbours’ Dog to enable you to placate your wanderlust, then you are disgusting and don’t deserve to have children at all. (I’ll leave it to your interpretation as to whether this is a joke.)

2) Find the nearest Pharmacy

Let’s be honest with each other here. You’re middle-aged, and with that comes certain issues surrounding your health. I don’t want to hear this rubbish about how many miles you cycle a day (no doubt dressed like a wannabe member of the GB Cycling team) or how often you go to Spinning Classes, which, I only recently found out had nothing to do with knitting or sewing. It’s irrelevant. When you hit a certain age, your body slowly begins to wind down and fail you at key times, and being abroad certainly doesn’t help.

Think you can walk for miles on cobble-stone paths and climb hundreds of steps without passing out?

Think you can drink foreign beer and enormously generous servings of spirits and liqueurs without having the hangover from hell?

Think you can still eat rich, spicy food and not follow-through when you fart?

Think again.

The Pharmacy is your friend.

3) Don’t punch the “Lookie-Lookie Men”

We’ve all wanted to do it.

The thing is, I did it.

I’m not immensely proud of it, but at the same time I still believe the guy deserved it. Thankfully, the Venetian Police saw it that way too.

Basically, we’d had 4 days of “Lookie-Lookie Men” trying to sell us their wares; from plastic roses to reduced price tickets to museums, to light-up toys that you shoot into the sky which illuminate most major European cities at night. One guy, obviously sick of being ignored by the throngs of tourists, decided that he was going to stop my wife in her tracks and place a plastic rose across her breasts, citing the old rule “if you touch it you have to buy it”. To be slightly fair to the guy, I think he was aiming to put it in her hands, but ended up with his hand buried deep in cleavage valley. One Bruce Lee style punch to the chest later, and the guy was lying on the floor trying to attract the attention of his fellow “Crap-sellers”, who were starting to move in on our position looking to aid their fallen comrade. If not for the Police, who shooed them all away and told me with a sympathetic yet stern look to “beat it”, I might have ended up at the bottom of the Grand Canal with a dozen plastic roses stuck up my arse.

Remember to keep your cool. Italian Police aren’t normally known for their sympathy towards tourists.

Especially English ones with Football shirts on…

4) Don’t over-do it

Like I said earlier, you’re not as young and fit as you think you are. Being in a different country, and being amongst younger travellers will give you a false sense of your own abilities. Seeing other, younger people enjoying themselves and seeking adventure after adventure, throwing caution to the wind and just “going for it” is the path down which the Middle-aged Traveller will fail.

Spectacularly.

If you want to join the group of sweaty, dirty-haired students on a gap-year at the next table, who invite you to get drunk with them on the local speciality booze, then that’s up to you. (Just so you know; they’ll invite you to either make fun of you, or steal your wallet, and you’ll accept to try to “re-live your youth” and convince your friends back home how cool and hip you now are. You will achieve neither.)

My advice is, don’t do it the night before you plan to climb to the top of Il Duomo in Florence.

Other tourists don’t like stepping over sick in such a tightly enclosed space.

5) Treat your significant other as a Guinea Pig

Most couples usually have one partner who is significantly more adventurous than the other, and that’s fine. If everyone was the same we’d be pretty bored. Don’t get me wrong, you should let go a bit and try new things whenever you travel, but being abroad can really make people let go of their inhibitions; sometimes with disastrous consequences. If you’re the least adventurous one in your pairing, you’ll probably also be the one who doesn’t like spending too much money on things, especially on new things that you might not like. Enjoy yourself by all means, but use your head. Nobody wants to blow their money in the first couple of days. You need some security, right?

Here’s my solution. Oh, and this is for the “Less adventurous” partner to read, so if that’s not you, look away now.

Let your partner indulge their adventurousness. Convince them that they do want to try that drink that you’ve heard so much about, but are too frightened you’re not going to like. Have a taste of theirs, and, if you like it? Get one next time. If you don’t? No harm no foul. If your partner doesn’t like it?

“Oh dear, that’s a shame. Just hold your nose when you drink it, you won’t taste it.”

Money saved and adventures had. That’s a win in my book.

6) Don’t go with other couples

At the very least, couples who are having relationship issues.

This one really is a no-brainer. The last thing you need in a country you’re unfamiliar with is the “troubled couple” kicking off with each other and having to spend the entire time playing Devil’s Advocate. The guys end up going their own way, getting drunk in the middle of Prague and relive their Lad’s Holiday from 1994 by climbing into the Krizig fountain.

The girls on the other hand will be drunk in a wine bar, telling each other how much they hate men while crying on the shoulder of some “friendly locals” who are plying them with more wine.

Ok, maybe the last scenario was slightly over-the-top, but at the very least, both couples will want to do different things spend so long debating where to go first, they end up staying in a Pub all day getting sozzled or end up going their separate ways anyway.

It’s all a bit dramatic for my liking.

So there you are, I’m sure there are more hints and tips out there, but these are what I deem to be the important ones.

So, get yourselves on Groupon (very cheap as long as you live in London) get a holiday booked, remember these pearls of wisdom and you’ll be fine.

Honest.

RANT OVER

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lady in a Pickle

I’m always glad when people realise they’ve been making poor life choices. It gives hope to the normal people out there who pour scorn on the Hipsters who think acting like a sideshow attraction somehow makes you “edgy” or “interesting”.

It doesn’t.

I came across a story about “The Pickle Lady” the other day and, apart from it having an amazing title, it showed that there is still hope out there for some.

The Pickled Lady in question is a Contortionist by the name of Steph Mercury, and, as you might be able to guess from her stage name, squeezes herself into a 2ft jar; sometimes for almost 20 minutes at a time. (I bet it’s lovely inside there after that amount of time….) She performs her act at the “Circus of Horrors”, the modern day version of a Circus that appeals to the Hipster brigade as it “pushes boundaries” and is a little out of left-field. Gone are the Happy Clowns with confetti in their buckets, only to be replaced Pennywise the Clown wannabes and guys shoving serrated blades through their cheeks.

clown

I know, I know, people have been doing weird and wacky stuff in Circuses for a long time, but come on! A jar? Has she never read Ray Bradbury? (By the way if you haven’t you really should – click here) She’s not a bloody Octopus!

It seems the need to perform her Pickled Lady act to the 3/4 length pants wearing masses doesn’t outweigh her need to not be “covered from head to foot in bruises” every night, and frankly, looking like a drowned rat in a leotard.  Thankfully Ms. Mercury has decided to quit living life like a mollusc and has decided to become an “Aerial Artist” instead. And good on her I say; as far as Circus careers go, a Trapeze Artist is a respectable career choice. It’s a throwback to the good old days of the Circus when there wasn’t the need to dismember your body to please the crowd.

Saying that, she’ll probably have to do it with no net, blindfolded, juggling babies, carrying flaming chainsaws to get a reaction out of people these days……

Rant Over

 

 

 

 

Returning the Wave – Driving basics

Driving really is one of the most stressful things you can do on a daily basis, so it absolutely baffles me why people make it harder than it already is.

I’m not talking about the big things like talking on your mobile or tail-gating, (both of which I’ve been guilty of in the past)

No, I’m talking about the following –

Returning the wave

There are too many people who don’t return the wave.

You know who you are.

And you sicken me.

This is how it should work – you stop to give right of way at one of those traffic calming measures, the car with right of way goes first and gives a wave of thanks to you, and then you MUST, MUST return that wave. The return wave is even more important than the original wave of thanks as it is acknowledging the thanks given by the other driver.

“But I’m the one who stopped and Gave Way; why should I wave thanks?” I hear you say.

The reason you return the wave is really quite simple. We live in a shitty, self-absorbed world. Manners and pleasant behaviour to one another really is on the decline. By waving back to someone who says thanks to you is really like saying “No problem” or “fuggedabowdid” (that’s a Mickey Blue Eyes reference for those who don’t get it…).

It’s nice to acknowledge someone’s manners as it shows that both people involved care about manners. Too often do I see people act very non-chalantly where politeness is concerned; it’s like the hipster-norm to ignore somebody saying thank you and continuing to read your book about 18th century blanket stitching techniques, rather than just saying “you’re welcome”.
It really is just about the little things.

So next time somebody thanks you for doing something, just acknowledge it. It’s nice to be nice.

If, on the other hand, someone doesn’t reply to you, then you are well within your rights to give them the finger, scream obscenities and jump out of your car and knock off their wing mirrors.

Remember: be nice.

Rant over

Check me out on twitter at @rantsen_things

 

 

 

Gluten free – my arse

Without sounding too much like somebody’s Great Uncle….

When I was a lad, practically nobody had food allergens.

Sure, you’d have the one diabetic kid at school who was allowed jelly and ice cream every single day (“god, it’s so unfair”….) but apart from that, nobody had any issues.

Fast forward 30 years and all of a sudden everyone is on the verge of anaphylactic shock if they so much as look at a slice of bread.

What the hell happened?!

It seems that everyone and their bloody dog is “allergic” to something these days. You’ll notice I used quotation marks on the word allergic, and for good reason.

I don’t believe about 95% of the people who claim to be allergic to gluten.

There, I’ve said it.

 

I used to be a Chef. During this period of my life I witnessed first-hand the gradual rise in fake allergens. What used to be a simple act of a Server bringing a check into the Kitchen and hurrying out in case they got shouted at for simply doing their job, (“more checks?! I’m not here to cook you know!”) turned into the Server nervously hanging around the Pass to explain that the Customer has an allergy of sorts. This rose from once a night-ish to approximately 10 times and upwards a night in what seemed like a dramatically short period of time.

What really got my attention to the fact that it’s mostly fake is this exchange that would happen between myself and the Server, probably nine times out ten-

Server- “Chef this Customer says they are allergic to Gluten.”

Me- “But they’ve ordered Tagliatelle! Do they know it contains Gluten?”

Server- “I’ll go and check.”

2 minutes later….

Server- “They said it’s fine as long as they don’t have too much”

To which I would respond by refusing to cook the order at all until they a) chose something else without gluten, or b) admitted that they weren’t allergic to it in the first place and apologised for being an annoying, fad-following, hipster-wannabe, special little cupcake who demands attention by trying to be quirky, different and needy.

(Oh what a joy I was to work with!)

People with Coeliac disease can’t eat Gluten.

People with Gluten allergies can’t eat Gluten.

People who can eat “a little bit” or “not too much” are neither of these things. They CHOOSE not to eat Gluten.

They are people who, for one reason or another, just want to be different or difficult and who insist on being given special treatment like the entitled little brats that they are. If you don’t want to eat Gluten then please say so; don’t lie and say you’re Gluten intolerant or allergic to Gluten.

Image result for entitlement funny pics

 

I blame the ridiculous amount of fad-ish diets that were all the rage in the late nineties and early 2000’s, and, the self-centred, entitled generation that are the children of the followers of such idiotic trends as the Atkins diet.

So, in summing up.

Tell the truth.

Nobody cares if you don’t want to eat Gluten, but they do care if you lie about the reason.

Being Coeliac must be a nightmare, and people claiming to have issues are watering down the reality of sufferers.

You’re not allergic to Gluten.

You’re not special.

You’re just an entitled, self important knobhead.

You’re just like the other 95% of the population.

Get over it.

RANT OVER