Palpable Jackassery

 I know I said I'd compile a Side B for the foul ghouls and jackals we have in our lives, but I got sidetracked. The good news in my life is I got 77% on my final assessment in the Creative Writing unit in my university studies. Bad news is I'm freezing cold today and my renovations are not finished.

Best get onto that list. But there is another list and it comprises jackasses. It's only a short one, but the jackassery in this list is palpable, with the ability to stun and debilitate at fifty paces. Here we go:

1. Rebel Wilson for her advice to Sydney about the current lockdown. It goes something like 'WTF' and 'You can't keep locking down as a strategy.' Rebster, your Twitter profile lists your credentials as actress, writer, and producer. Nowhere did I see the word 'epidemiologist', so just fuck off with your blathering, okay? Hell, I think I'd rather see another nauseating story about your weight loss than one about your advice on how to best handle a pandemic. Piss off.

2. John Barilaro for talking about having the third 2021 Origin game played in Newcastle, given the current lockdown in Sydney. Also for destroying koala habitats. Then there's his government's sell-off of local TAFE. Just when you think the jackassery has plateaued, he calls in the FPIU because a YouTube comedian teased him. You're a politician, so you need a thick skin! Seriously, dude, what do you do when you see someone in your street parked on the nature strip? Call in the TRG? *Knock at my front door, my dog goes ballistic, son answers the door to some badge-wielding nongs who say: 'FPIU. Your mother home?'*

3. Whoever issued a directive to teachers to hyphenate when writing reports, such as: "Johnny is able to sound-out difficult words when reading aloud". I don't know if this is nationwide or if it's just in Victoria. A friend of mine who is in the Victorian education system posted on Facebook about it, and it's fair to say I went into meltdown. If the arse-clown responsible for this total heinousness is reading, then let me type this slowly for you: This. Is. NOT. How. Hyphens. Are. Used! 'Sound out' is a verbal phrase, and in the event you need reminding: verbs are 'doing' words. Putting the hyphen in will change the phrase's function, most likely to a noun or adjectival phrase. To demonstrate: 'A stand-in will stand in for a person who is unavailable' or 'We are about to drive by the house that was the scene of a drive-by shooting'. Don't put hyphens in verbal phrases, okay? I'm glad I wasn't asked to write that in a report; the resultant fireworks would have seen every dog within a five-mile radius (see what I did there?) escape and run away.

Well, I had best get my mask, my son, and my son's mask, then head off to the dentist. 

Ciao for now.

Melodies for Miserable Malfeasants, Tunes for Toxic Toads

 I'm pondering some blurb about a hypothetical studio compiling an album dedicated to those people whose raison d'etre, whose great calling, whose divine vocation, or whose plain twisted hobby appears to be ensuring they render every aspect of your life miserable as they either just suck the joy out of life with the force of an imploding black hole, or else just deliberately make you miserable for whatever grotesque self-justification they conjure. Yes, here at Bingells Blog we play AAAAAAALLL-LLLLLL the hits, and dedicate these ones to the poltroons, the fiends, the scapegraces, the swine, the malfeasants, or the plain old meany-poopy-heads - whatever you want to call them - that you have the misfortune to be struggling with in your lives at present:

1. Two Faces Have I by Lou Christie or Ol' 55 (choose whatever version you want). I know this song is really about a person who is putting on a cheerful visage to hide his true feelings, but on the basis of the title alone, I'm dedicating it to those duplicitous types who'd stab you betwixt the shoulder blades as soon as look at you. I know some people like this, and I'm sure you do, too. 

2. Bad Blood by Neil Sedaka (Elton John on backing vocals). I think this is an underrated number. I also think Elton's Greek chorus style delivery of 'Baaaaaaad' after Neil sings his bit sounds a bit like a lamb bleating for its mother (have a listen; you'll totally get what I mean). I do like this song very much and the title makes me think of bitter and toxic jackals from Hell who manifest spite and perpetuate their acrimony with the mulish determination of a malign toad. 

3. I Hate Everything About You by Ugly Kid Joe. I like this song. It's quirky and has a great Fuck-You tone in its delivery. And yes, there are people I know who have utterly no redeeming qualities; and I'm sure you know people exactly like this, too. 

4. A Town Called... by Kevin Bloody Wilson. It's Kevin Bloody Wilson, which should give you a hint about what this town might be called. If you are unable to access this tune, the narrative has Wilson giving directions like: 'Take a left on Screw You Avenue/Take a right on Wank Stain Lane...', until you reach a town called ... Go Fuck Yourself. Be honest, peeps: haven't we all wanted to say this to certain people at times? I know I have. 

5. Don't Expect Me to be Your Friend by Lobo. This goes out to the aforementioned toxic jackals who are free and easy with vicious spite and who really need to get on Whereis for those directions to the aforementioned town. 

Well, that might do for Side A. I might think of some more for Side B soon, but I also want to think of some tunes that we would dedicate to the people in our lives who have been there for us when we've needed them. For the times when we've been hurt or maligned by total shit-gibbons who should just crawl back under their respective rocks, there are people who have listened and helped pick us up. I am lucky to have a good network of friends and family who have given support and encouragement when I have needed it, and trust me, I definitely needed it this past week. To them I say: Thank you.

Life's Great Wonders

 Tempus fugi - I think I've conjugated that correctly -  since last post. So what's been happening? Well, my local government area held a by-election and guess what? The Nationals retained their seat! Isn't that fantastic? Oh wait, that came out wrong. What I meant to type was: Fucking hell! Why must we have these idiots back in? Oh, and when I went to do a pre-poll vote, who should say hello to me but that shrew with the voice reminiscent of a fork being dragged down a blackboard. Ugh! Yes, we had the leader of that eponymous shit-show known as Pauline Hanson's One Nation in town. Did I say 'hello' back? No, I kept walking before I turned to stone from the force of her gaze, or else got squashed in the event someone finally dropped a house on her. 

But it's been mainly good. I appear to have scored a Distinction on my last assessment. I wrote about Marc Bolan, so it was bound to have been well-received. Also, as I type, I'm listening to rain on my new roof. Yes, you read that right: we have a new roof. FINALLY! It's good to have rain here, but it's a bonus to hear it on a new roof and know I won't be floundering around with buckets to catch the leaks. 

Although I have been working for what feels like a constant era, I have found the time to go out and enjoy myself. Last Saturday, my youngest son and I went to a Queen tribute show. We stayed at a motel to save a drive home that would have seen me navigating through fog and possibly hitting a kangaroo. I have always had a fondness for tribute bands. My husband and mother-in-law are planning to see a Johnny Cash tribute act this coming Saturday evening, and I have booked tickets for an ELO act in August. 

Whilst my husband is enjoying the embodiment of the Man in Black, I am thinking about seeing Cruella at the local cinema. I am rather interested in the character study. Also, it might be a fun way to while away some time. I don't go nuts over 101 Dalmatians by any means, I just thought it might be interesting to see the tale of another character in the movie. It's a common creative writing ploy; taking a well-known story and telling it through the eyes of a character other than the accepted protagonist. Oh - I read the oddest tweet the other day. Some US politician said the movie had spoiled his childhood memories of 101 Dalmatians by having an openly flamboyant gay character. Seriously? Is this the hill he's going to die on? I replied to him along the lines that given the titular character works in fashion and design, it would be unrealistic to not feature someone who is flamboyantly gay (don't @ me for propagating a stereotype); furthermore, isn't a more disturbing character the evil beldame who skins puppies?

The other great thing that has happened in The World According to Bingells is my son, his friend, and I won the trivia last night. This is good, but we won by SEVEN POINTS - count 'em! - SEVEN! Some of our answers were formulated by educated guessing, but there is a thrill to be had from that process when you realise your line of reasoning was true. I drew the voucher for ten dollars, but the pride in our win greatly ameliorates that sting. As an aside, my son has banned me from drawing vouchers because I appear to be cursed in this area. But the best part of all was WE BEAT THE KARENS! They appear to be toning down their Karenness, but nonetheless:  sex is good and all, but beating a table of Karens is the pinnacle of life's great wonders.