Tuesday, December 04, 2007

the most annoying shit

hmmm, nothing grinds my gears more than when people say annoying things in a serious manner that implies they don't have an alternative way of stating that very thought.

for instance, where i come from in pennsylvania (for more info on that lovely vernacular, please refer to the past entry entitled 'she don't talk right'), a certain medical condition known as diabetes to the rest of the world is referred to as 'the sugar.' so it's not uncommon to hear one sauntering through the mall, discussing with their feathered-hair companion what a tragedy that wound that won't heal on carol's leg is. and then, like clockwork, it'll be supplemented with, "well, you know she has the sugar."
now, correct me if i'm wrong, but even if you're an avid user of the many sorts of artificial sweeteners; even if the potential carcinogenic side effects of saccharin doesn't scare you enough to completely dissuade you from using nutrasweet; even if the lack of research on the long-term effects of splenda consumption doesn't keep you up at night; even if you live and breathe and have made it your life's mission to extol the virtues of artificial sweeteners, you do, in some capacity, 'have' the sugar. you can't bake without it. not that i'm an avid baker, by any means (i'm not even a sometimes baker), but even in my cupboards, somewhere behind the jungle of high-fiber wasa, whole-husk quinoa, and organic wheatgrass bars, there exists that noteworthy yellow box of domino sugar. even i have the sugar.

diabetes is a horrible thing (even though patti labelle has taught us that the revolutionary one-touch can, indeed, change everything) so let's not equate it, and inevitably create a synonymous relationship with something so crystalline, so precious, so sweet.

next up--that damn phrase "she's expecting." a fat girl walks into a room. the second thing you notice (the first, obviously, being that she was fat--we are, after all, human) is that she's only fat from her boobs to her pelvis because of a certain large-scale lump subsisting on her midsection. you conclude she's pregnant. great. just what this world needs--another damn kid to run around, spread germs, cost money, get sick, ruin shoes, piss me off, clog up human traffic patterns in the subway, and cry for no reason. but i digress.
the girl is pregnant, and when her gaze meets that of the ladies' coffee clutch sitting in the corner, they begin to whisper to one another, "oh she's expecting!"

well, yeah. we're ALL expecting something. i'm expecting. you're expecting. everybody on this earth is expecting. some expect money. some expect retribution. some expect sex. some expect a bowel movement. if one were to look up the infinitive 'to expect' in the dictionary, one would be met with a definition along the lines of "to assiduously await the planned arrival of something; usually the effect of a certain cause put forth by the individual." (i should so work at a dictionary. i could rap to my coworkers "i'm a bitchin' lexicog...like a prince that's a frog..." well, anyway).
so i've just established that we're all expecting something in particular, making it so that we're all expecting. so you damn pregnant ladies who steal our seats on the subway need to think of a better way of describing your current 'situations.' i recommend starting with knocked up. it's always been one of my faves.

i'm out, bitches!

No comments: