When the minority is thought to be the majority

A long time ago, I used to really like to wear baggy clothing.  Partially because I was a lot tubbier than I am these days, and partially because I simply liked to wear really baggy clothing.  However, back in those days, finding shirts that were XXL or larger was almost unheard of, and I would scoff at the legions of large or smaller sized shirts, mostly because they were not my preference.  Subsequently, XXL+ were much rarer, and if you could find the larger sizes, also cost a little extra, which I was willing to pay, for the sake of my “fashion.”  Fortunately for me, such habits have changed over the last decade or so, and my preferred shirt size is appropriately just large.

On a recent trip to Virginia, I wanted to pick up an ACC Champion Virginia Tech t-shirt, and no better place to look for one than in Virginia itself.  It’s a fairly basic shirt, with nothing too fancy, and I learned that Dick’s Sporting Goods stores don’t really prefer to sell basic stuff, opting for the over-designed, and name-branded clothing manufacturers, that they can charge $20+ for, as opposed to the basic and simple things sold much cheaper in Blacksburg itself.  Or, a Wal-Mart, which could actually be relied upon to sell some more basic wares, and I was delighted to find a wide variety of shirts, coats, as well as other logo-branded items.  At first, it was a little overwhelming, with all the things they had to sell, but when I dove into the racks to actually start looking for stuff for me, that elation began to turn into frustration.  Eventually, it turned into disdain and disgust.

Y’see, despite the wide variety of basic, inexpensive designs that Wal-Mart had available, I was duped into thinking that their stocks were just fine, since there were still literal stacks of every single available option, still on the shelves.  But upon further examination revealed that in 95% of those cases, the only available sizes left were XXL, 3XL, and flabbergasting 4XL.  With the exception of the two large-sized shirts that I ended up buying, everything else was of the gigantic fat-fuck size variety.  And unfortunately, the ACC Champion shirts were all in the same boat, too.  Apparently, Wal-Mart seems to have over-estimated their interpretation of just how many morbidly obese people would be in the market for school-branded apparel, and short-changed those of whom were looking for more logical sizing.

What this says about the clientele of Wal-Mart, or the state of society in which we live in today is certainly something, but in the end, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s all a little sad and pathetic.  I want to believe that if fat-fuck sized clothing were harder to acquire for some of these blobs, then maybe it would motivate them to do something about their affliction.  Not accommodate, or cater to.

Next year, it’ll be “Santa’s Little Filthy Dirty Slut”

A part of me is a little sad and disheartened that society is gradually headed in this degrading direction of objectifying women . . . actually, that part I don’t really care about, but the part where traditions, and concepts of childhood, purity, and innocence, turned into blatant capitalist pursuits of profit by turning them sexually suggestive is a little pathetic.  Look, I know that sex sells, but eventually, there will literally be no concept or idea that doesn’t have a sexy dark side somewhere out there.  Halloween’s already been sluttified, now I find out Christmas is too.  If it already hasn’t been done by now, I’m sure the Easter-themed sexy Easter bunny, complete with fluffy-tail g-string, carrot dildo, and pastel-colored diaphragm is awaiting in April, and the party industry is probably hard at work trying to sexy-fy Independence Day next.

But the other part of me would be doing backflips if there was a girl in my life who was willing to wear this, and be my little Ho-Ho-HO!.

Perils of Atlanta winters

This is very similar to what my drive home from trivia looked like tonight.  The only real difference is that it was dark out.  But the visuals were otherwise the same, with cars sitting in ditches, wrecked, flipped over, or stalled on the shoulder.  Whether or not there was anyone hurt or injured is unknown, but there were most certainly plenty of abandoned wrecks on the side of the road tonight.  All because it rained today, and compounded with the week of arctic weather we’ve had, led to, predictably, lots of ice on the streets.  And naturally, Atlanta, being in a Southern state, is ill-prepared for such circumstances, and there are no trucks to ice the roads, leading to lots of accidents, closed roads and highways, and worst of all, an epidemic called “more retarded than usual drivers.”

Seriously, the ice on the roads don’t scare me the least bit, but the other people “driving” in their cars worry the ever living shit out of me.  On empty roads, I’m 100% confident in my ability to get home, but having to dodge cars on the Connector and I-285 that slam their brakes when they think they see ice, are about to go over bridges, or are generally traveling at 35 mph speeds on highways that require deft maneuvering around creates very unsafe driving conditions.  It also didn’t help that the cops and DOT started blocking off ramps and exits that had any sort of bridge and/or curve involved, because people are just fucking retarded.  What is normally a 30 minute drive took me 50, due to all circumstances noted.  The fascinating thing is that at first, with all the cars wrecked and abandoned all over the streets, it looked a lot like The Walking Dead, and I was almost expecting to see zombies emerging from the ditches a quarter mile later.

Thoughts on Dexter, Season 5

Going into the fifth season of Dexter, I had fairly low expectations.  The way season four had ended completely broke the television series away from the books, and in a most dynamic plot twist, which made fans of the series realize that the writers had a monumental task ahead of them with season five.  Admittedly, I didn’t think that the writers would be up to the task of topping season four.

Now that I’m a few hours removed from watching the finale of season five, I must applaud the writers and the show’s cast and crew for a very enjoyable season of Dexter.  Whether or not it surpasses the greatness of the prior season is yet to be determined by me yet, but the impression I’ve been left with upon the completion of five is one of satisfaction and enjoyment.

It started off a little on the slow side, as the television rendition of the character Dexter had some necessary deconstruction, in order to evolve further.  But once he was stripped of some of his previous seasons’ tendencies, the season really began to pick up steam.  Not just Dexter developed throughout the season, but several other characters were given opportunities to flourish and grow, become interesting, and worthy of capturing the interest of viewers.  The culmination of the finale was a little predictable, but still completely overlooked by me until afterward, but it was a satisfying conclusion.

I was pleased with the performances of Robocop, and zerocool/crash override.  I can’t say so much about Julia Stiles, as she was the only cast member I balked at upon learning of her role in the season; I just have never really cared for her.  But each were integral components of the season’s story, and in the end, I’m left with a good taste in my mouth, and looking forward to a sixth season.

If I could name a favorite part of the season though, it would have to be the screenshot above; Dexter methodically beating the shit out of an abusive father, and calmly explaining every nuance and detail of pain and suffering of his purposeful blows.  Television beatdowns are a dime a dozen, but leave it to Dexter to make it cerebral, cruel, and downright awesome.

A literal Shit Monday

Seriously – shit Monday, and I haven’t even started working yet.

I haven’t been sleeping well lately, and last night was no exception.  It was almost like premonition that something bad was coming, and this morning kind of did not fail to deliver.

I think I’m kind of coming to the realization that a whole lot of little things rely on me to handle or be present in order to handle.  And if I’m not involved, they simply just won’t get done.  I love my family to death, but sometimes I just wish my family would just show some initiative and get shit done on their own, without needing me to be around to do it for them.  Sometimes it just feels like an excuse, but I don’t think they realize how much it feels like it weighs me down knowing that I have extra responsibilities and a queue of things that probably could be done on their own steam.  I think that’s why I tend to feel exasperated or cranky sometimes.