Having a tendency of sticking me foot in my mouth on occasion, speaking, tweeting or Face-booking impulsively, leads me to thanking my lucky stars quite often for the delete feature in social-media platforms.
I’ve caught myself many times sending out something extremely lame on the Net: an arrogant thought; errant, egotistical emotion; perhaps an irrational reaction to something mundane or picayune.
Not meaning to hurt someone, I suppose an Internet friend might feel slighted if my slanted communication was caught before I removed it from sight upon realizing what an utter arsehole I had been. My open apologies to anyone for offenses taken.
Imagine if we could utilize a delete button in real life. Would any of us be left on earth? “You sure you want to delete your mother-in-law?” might pop up often; or better still, “Do you really want to send your boss to the recycling bin?”
Think of the implications for this:
- Someone cuts you off in traffic: ploink, delete and off to the abyss.
- A bill collector at your door: not a problem, plunk, delete and off to the recycling bin with him, or [shift] and delete to remove the bloke permanently; but you know they’ll just send another one knocking.
- Your neighbor downstairs keeps pushing that fooking whistling, keyless-entry for his car at least ten times at a clip: ping, delete, and send the auto off to oblivion. No fuss, no muss, just press “delete” and watch your troubles disappear into life’s null-and-void.
- That oblivious woman who is blocking the supermarket aisle persistently in front of you. See you later, baby!
The Tower of London wouldn’t have had anything over this metaphorical holding tank, where one can stay indefinitely as if in Limbo, restored maybe back to its original spot after an extended stay; or expunged forever, sent back to the universal hard drive to be transformed into another assortment of bytes and purposes. We’d all be in big trouble is this were the case.
Further observations regarding issues brought up in previous tirades:
A. Manufacturers of items in the supermarket are attempting to pull the wool over our eyes by tricking us with lessening the value of their products while still maintaining the present price or higher. For example:
- I’ve always use only two slices of bread for my sandwiches and toast just two slices for breakfast, which never allowed an odd slice at the end of the loaf. Lately, I’ve been left with just one, usually the heel, which makes me wonder if the loafs are being made smaller. Just now making a note that the loaf weighs one pound, eight ounces, I’ll have to keep an eye on the bakers.
- Packages of my favorite brand of bacon have been modified by the manufacturer with their omission of a slice for the past two times bought. Having always fried four slices for breakfast, I ended up usually right on the money with none left in the package after the final serving of four. Now I’ve been finding just three slices are last.
- Making note of the bacon’s packaged weight as twelve ounces, I’ll be keeping an eye on the butchers too. Do I have to watch out for the candlestick makers’ cutting back on their products but charging the same price too? What’s next after that, ten eggs in a carton while paying for a twelve? I suppose you could call that a banker’s dozen instead.
B. Top two overused words and one phrase in present-day English that drive me battier than I am already:
- Awesome – delete it from the blasted vocabulary and use another adjective to express overwhelming brilliance and audacity.
- Amazing – see number one.
- Check out – especially when used by authors, who as writers are supposed to be craftsmen (or craftswomen) of words. Please figure out another phrase for peddling whatever you’re selling. This goes for whomever else is guilty of this verbal over-abuse.
C. Finding out the expiration dates on items left on the shelves of merchants don’t always outlive the need for the product; so buyers beware:
- Today I threw my back out, slipping in the snow on my terrace while taking pictures of the white stuff, reaching for the bottle and finding my current batch of Ibuprophen had expired eight months ago. I took two anyway and my back feels better already.
The holidays are upon us again. I hope yours are happy and filled with friends, family and good cheer. Happy ranting, reeling, raving and misbehaving.