The Whites of their eyes.......

It takes a certain amount of life skill to be stupid.
It must.
After all, Darwin's theory would indicate that if something is too stupid to live, nature will take care of it.
But no.
Survive they do.
I am, and I know you are, surrounded by people who defy the very laws of evolution and manage to do it with a smile.
I have taken pot shots at stupid people before.
And to some, given that laughing at stupid people is akin to yelling at a new born to do something other than just lay there and grow, it must seem cruel.
Deriding dummies is the comedy equivalent of shooting fish in a barrel.
Blonde jokes exist because comedians needed a way to say 'stupid people' faster.
Try saying this out loud.
"Why shouldn't blonde's have coffee breaks?It takes too long to re-train them."
Now say this.
"Why shouldn't stupid people have coffee breaks?It takes too long to re-train them.
The second version a beat too long.
In comedy, timing is everything.
I know lots of blonde's, hell, until I was about 12 I was a blonde.
Hair colour doesn't define intelligence, look at the Swedes.
For the past fortnight I have struggled with computer problems. When I dropped my notebook earlier in the month ( yes, I know) I took it to the irritatingly smug fucks at the Wan Chi Computer Centre. There a snot nosed 22 year old spent 10 minutes rolling his eyes at me whilst he exaggeratedly turned the unit on and off ( gee whizz batman, something I hadn't thought of) and wondered aloud in Cantonese exactly how much he should charge this ho fai gweipo (fat foreign devil female) for taking up his time and dragging him away from playing Halo online.
When I replied to his musings, in Cantonese, that he should stop being a cunt and charge me the same price as he would charge any young Chinese boy who had walked into his shop with the same problem, he seemed genuinely shocked.
This was not the game as he knew it.
He went and got his boss.
His smarted move that day.
Anyway, they fixed it.
But they made me feel stupid because I just stood there dumbfounded and at their mercy.
It was......a humbling learning curve.......
OK, it was shit, but they knew they had me.
"Ricky" ( why are they all called "Ricky" ?) knew I needed him. I was a deer in headlights with a busted motherboard, and he was the geek with acne that still lives with his mother, and has never had sex without paying for it.
Scratch that, even the working girls wouldn't have him.
However about two weeks ago, a new problem arose......I will not bore you with the details other than to say that if one could actually kill people with ones thoughts, half the staff at PCCW-my "service" provider- would now be dead.
But then, they would all have been dead a long time ago. Killed in the rush of non-idiots who happen to need technical support.
It's just that for some reason, when it comes to the human race, nature kind of throws in the towel.
I know of a woman who feels that discipline or pressure of any kind may wound her child's aura. So she lets him run wild, to do as he feels, with no artificial restraints such as bedtimes, or meal times, bath times or quiet times.
He will not be taught to read until he feels ready to take that message on board.
He will not be taught the novel concepts of 'right' or 'wrong', because these are boundaries set by man, not mother earth.
He is 5.
Guess what kind of a kid he is. Guess what kind of a teenager he'll make.
Now, I don't blame the boy. You can not help it if your mother is a space cadet, and I know because I speak from experience.
But it raises the question that if a Whale- for example- said to it's calf ( assuming they chat like this) " Look, I'm not going to train you how to do things, live as you feel. If you want to play in the shipping lanes, play in the shipping lanes, eat when you feel, or don't, be free to breathe or not, I don't want you to feel burdened by MY breathing hangups. We will live as leaves in the wind ( water wind, work with me here) and be as one with all things as we feel. Perhaps we should visit Japan? The waters are nice around there".
Natural.Selection.
So why not us?
Why is it that so many apparently mentally deficient people maintain jobs, and drive cars and have babies?
People who walk in front of moving traffic and believe that staring at the driver will protect their bones from breaking.
I have a friend who calls them 'oxygen thieves'. It's an appropriate term.
Stupid peoples survival must come down to instinct.
People with low E.Q - and for the record that is the measure I use for stupidity, not I.Q- must have a gut feel somewhere for when to cut and run, as it were.
They manage to duck, bob and weave at just the right time.
Or they stand there looking like giant pillars of salt, and whatever is moving towards them- ie: danger, disaster or people with high EQ's- just ducks, bobs and weaves out of THEIR way in order to avoid calamity.
In the ultimate game of "chicken" the person who doesn't flinch wins.
Keeping still is a life skill, who knew?
Like being boring and being stubborn, being brain dead appears to be a misunderstood strategy used by those who do not have the wherewithal to die in childbirth.
Not so stupid now, huh?

Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies.

Ah honesty, you funny little failing.
Before we begin, it's worth remembering I am a born performer.
I live to entertain, even if only to entertain myself.
For me facts are important, but I have never let the facts get in the way of a good story.
I like the bells and whistles, the staircases and roof structure I leave to the engineers.
So it is not without a wry smile I can reflect on a lifetime being labeled as a 'direct and refreshingly honest, call it as you see it, truth speaking bullshit detector'.
Some may call it hypocrisy.
I say it takes one to know one.
Brutal honesty.
I love the 'BRUTAL' part of that phrase.
The following is all true, I am not even going to change the names.
I was online last night, in a singles dating website where I was asked by a desperate and dateless man-child of 30 - online name of 'jackinthebox, I kid you not- if I was interested in him coming around "right now" and having him do exciting things to me with his more wet and flexible muscles.
I had been speaking to this person for 6 minutes.
Here's the thing 'Jack'.
It's 10 pm Saturday night, I just got home from work. I've worked 60 hours this week, and I have my period.
I am online because I am too fucking lazy to get off my couch and be sociable with real human beings.
In fact today, I don't even LIKE human beings, let alone horny, lonely, young men who are also pathetically home on a Saturday night.
Whatever the fuck it is you think you can do with your tongue, I am certain, given my current mood and state, my Purple Buzzy Toy will do a better job faster, and quieter, and leave less mess.
On top of that, I may actually have to make conversation with you at some point, either before or after, and frankly I don't have the energy.
I just want a quiet night and a quiet life, and you seem noisy.
'Jack' mentioned he had a bottle of wine........that MAY have been a selling point. But I have beer in the fridge.
When a man makes offers I always have to overcome my instantaneous desire to make counter offers.
The following is also a true account that may explain that statement.
Friday night I dragged my arse out and met up with a girlfriend to have a drink and a girly chat.
She is coming out of a relationship.
Even though he behaved like a total tit, she feels responsible.
Woman are like that.
I met a man named Gary.
He bought me drinks.
I did not ask him to buy me drinks.
I have my own money, I can buy my own drinks.
But he insisted, and I did the 'girl thing' and let him be a hero.
He ' accidentally' touched my breasts three times.
I let him.
My breasts are people too, they need to be loved.
He told me about his 3rd wife.
She doesn't understand him.
It could be because he's fat and ugly and boring and old.
That's why I didn't understand him.
I always find it easier to understand attractive people.
Then he made me an offer I felt I could refuse.
He offered to have sex with me.
At my place, obviously.
His wife may be deaf, blind and stupid, but she's human after all.
He said " So, shall we walk back to your place and stop in at the 7/11 to grab supplies?"- meaning condoms I assumed, which I have at home anyway, unless he meant for a quick bowl of curried fish balls, in which case would have been prudent as I am all out.
I said " Sure, but lets stop off at the bank first so you can withdraw the money, I prefer cash up front".
OK, I didn't actually say that, but that WAS the counter offer that immediately came to mind.
When a man talks to me about sex within an hour of meeting them, I assume they must want to buy it from me, because why else would we be having that conversation?
Don't get me wrong, jelly belly and all, I know men like the idea of having sex with me.
I have big tits, and I laugh easily.
I am also fiercely independent and reasonably intelligent, but mostly I have big tits.
In Australia, my double D's would go unnoticed.
In Asia they are like a neon sign to breast fed men in search of a wet nurse.
But it's quid pro quo gents.
You offer me a bounce on your balls like it's a gift I have never unwrapped before, I feel the need to proffer a shopping list from Tiffany's.
You would like me to get up close and personal with your musky bits before you even know my middle name, I am going to need a new ring to admire while a busy myself with your old fella.
If you take the time to get to know me, you will discover I couldn't care less for jewellry, but if that seems like an effort lets just call a spade a shovel and get that plastic out of your wallet.
God knows, in HK, you are better off shopping in Wan Chai.
If I was a guy, that's what I would do.
For real.
So I said goodbye to Gary, and left him in the happy hunting grounds that are the bars and clubs of this fair city.
I am sure in the daylight hours he is less horrific.....no, that's a lie....even in daylight he would be another unfaithful, expatriate prick with an over inflated sense of his own worth.
That sounds bitter.
I'm not, actually, just disappointed that out there is a woman standing by her man while he stands beside other woman with his hand on his wallet as a mating call.
In my heart, I know that there are plenty of women out there who will hear that call, and fail to observe the wedding ring as he signs the bills.
It's just not for me.
Still, I drank his booze, and pissed off home.
Perhaps that's just as bad.
One of the tricky things about honesty is having the courage to be honest with yourself.
So here it is, my name is Wendy, and I am a part-time cock tease.
Well, maybe not 'part-time'.
I don't go out to bars much anymore, but 'casual cock-tease' doesn't sound right.
There is NOTHING 'casual' about it.
Virginia Woolf said "If you do not tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people."
And she was normal.
The bible says " to thine own self be true."
And that's a book written in forgotten languages on leaves and stored in caves by dead people thousands of years ago.
Who else do I need to quote to make my point?
Be truthful.
Be honest.
Be brutal when you need to, but not so brutal as to be unkind.
When that moment comes,when you really want to let rip and cut through the swathes of crap being fed your way, let it pass and just say nothing.
Then run away and write a book about all the things you had thought, but didn't say.
Remember to add your bells and whistles.
Then get a lawyer, and publish.
Oooooooh yes........
By the way, you know that guy who hangs around,the one who thinks he's all that ?
The one we all talk about?
He has a small penis.
And he NO idea how to use it.
:)