Falling Standards

If you’re reading this, I’m assuming you are of a reasonable intellect and possess the knowledge and ability to dress yourself in a morning without leaving home in the morning wearing nothing but one sock on your hand and pants over your head and so I’m hoping that all of you realise there is a way to wear every piece of clothing you own, including a specific location on the body where it belongs and holes for limbs to pass through to make your job easier. However, the nineties left us with a less than favourable lasting memory, and by that I don’t mean the poorly scripted clip shows of the Fresh Prince of Bel Air. In prisons across the world it is a general rule that a prisoner may not wear a belt as it can be used as a whipping weapon or an improvised noose if things get that bad and so the inmates of these institutions wear loose fitting clothes and can experience a sagging in their trousers. A fashion trend was apparently born from this over time and has been an ever-lasting tidibt of stupidity since before I was even aware how to spell trousers so I felt that I should get my feelings on the matter out in the open and don’t be surprised if I’m not pro-pant sag.

Well you’re probably already well aware that I think the entire thing is stupid. As mentioned earlier, this was not a fashion choice for prisoners but simply a result of lacking belts and any unusually saggy trousers were used to indicate a man was a prison bitch, essentially a wimpy ass toy for the bigger boys to use at their leisure as if the more womanly inmates were weird looking library books, assuming you like to jizz in their pages and call them a whore, you weird pervert you. I’m not making this up, any of it. A man who couldn’t hold his own in a fight with the rest of the inmates became a woman by rights of battle and when you’re looking at spending fifteen years in a grotty cell with a stick figure of a man, suddenly your penis just decides ‘Fuck it, might as well…. well… fuck it’. Obviously, you had to be subtle about indicating which guys were the guys and which guys were the girls so the secret rule of thumb became ‘If he’s skinny looking and his boxers are on show, stick your dick in it’. Therein lies my first problem with this secret sex code becoming a fashion craze, it’s shorthand for calling your ass a parking garage for every cruising cock in the area so why you want to walk around everywhere like that I don’t know unless you really are said garage, in which case carry on. I’d love to let loose a big burly convict in my college and tell him that he isn’t to hurt anyone but he can kidnap anyone who seems perplexed by how to wear a belt, though if this were to happen I imagine half the students would be gone, not that I’d miss them but I can hardly justify the disappearance of three hundred odd teenage boys as proving a point.

I was inspired to write this by Justin Bieber, a sentiment that shall never be repeated for as long as I live hopefully and should never be taken out of context (Wait for it now, you’ll all quote me on that, you motherfuckers). You may well have soon a photo of him in London recently but if not I’ll try to find one for you. Basically though, the prepubescent louse is wearing a hat that looks like Pac-Man receiving acupuncture on his semi-shaved head, pretentious hipster glasses, a jumper and some goofy looking jeans but the most prominent thing about this is that he is walking with a gorilla-like forward lean and said jeans are worn just above his knees. Once again, this is all real, this is actually happening in the modern world that you are actually living in, the one full of all this bullshit that has all desensitised to the idea of anything weird or bizzare. I bet you my liver that fifty years ago, had this moronic cum stain on the face of our otherwise fucked planet dressed like that in public he’d have been swiftly hurried home to get changed and put on a belt or just quietly hidden in the back of a van and driven to an asylum, which is a pleasant thought for everyone except those who live or work in an asylum. Ladies and gentleman, not knowing how to wear a belt is daft enough in itself as it is one of the most simple inventions man has ever devised and has been a means of holding up trousers and skirts since the Bronze Age but putting on a pair of trousers or jeans to then just wear them around your knees like you’ve actually shat a brick is a crime against us all, you incompetent penguin. Take a look at yourself in a mirror, no man alive looks respectable if he’s outwitted by his own clothes and you only make yourself look like an idiot if you show your inability to wear trousers to the public.

My biggest fear here is that the sagging trousers are here to stay, because sadly cretins such as Bieber are the supposed role models for the next generation and they’ll see that rodent-faced piece of beaver shit walking around wearing his trousers like his balls are actually being pulled to earth by an invisible thread and assume this is cool, that this is what people look like. The horror of this idea genuinely frightens me because all I see is a world that gets more and more idiotic as we are supposed to be advancing into the future. I personally don’t want to live in a world where you’re only considered fashionable if you put on all your clothes like you got dressed falling down the stairs in a morning.

Ah well, a useful note on this system is that the level at which a man wears his trousers is now in correlation to his intellect and self-respect, with the exception of Simon Cowell who, despite having trousers up to his elbows, is incidentally not more intelligent than every other man alive. I would like to think it will eventually become much more fashionable to show off that you can wear trousers like someone with two brain cells to rub together but I won’t get my hopes up.

Advertisements

Fresh Hot Humble Pie – Highly Recommended (Originally Published – 30th January 2013)

Well fuck, seems that only two days ago I got so emotionally charged that my fingers went mad at the keyboard like a fury of small mallets attacking plastic gophers but just looking at my Facebook News Feed and the people around me is often all I need to get so fired up that I’d carve my rants into a baby’s face if it looked at me funny. I find myself unable to comprehend what runs through peoples’ heads these days and I mean that as more than just a psychopathic man with social issues, I mean that as a man with a brain in his head. You know what a brain is right? That pink mushy draft excluder between those flaps on your head that seem to be purely ornamental for most people, as if they’re just two flimsy scraps of pig skin taped onto a kumquat. By now, you’re probably hoping I trip over a pipebomb and land in the jaws of a pissed shark but the truth is that, myself included at times, we’re all just a bit stupid and wrapped up in our own pride and petty issues.

Ok, so run with me here, this is serious. I’ve often berrated half the people I’ve ever met in life for rambling on about twoddle I wouldn’t wipe my arse with, to which they reply with various colourful ideas involving said arse and sharp objects, but I seriously think a lot of us need a serving of humble pie and a smack across the jaw. I mentioned in a previous rant that I used to be a bit of a loose cannon. Strike that, a bit of a loose cannon would imply I just got drunk every now and then and missed coursework deadlines, I mean loose cannon as in that lifting people up into the air by their throat and cursing at them was my standard form of greeting and my pass times included fights, fights and more fights. I’m not afraid to admit that back in the day, arsehole was the nicest thing you could call me, and my reputation in the community made me sound like Jack the fucking Ripper. However, my selfish lifestyle granted me a huge loss and suddenly life was dipping it’s hairy balls in my mouth for being such a massive tosser. Humble pie, ladies and gentlemen, is the meal you never seem to order but you will always end up eating sooner or later, whether you’re the local twat or a full on bloody billionaire. Look at Romney, even his piles of money and an ego so large it in itself would need a seat in Congress were not enough to overcome his opposition so now he spends his time doing the rich guy equivalent to slitting his wrists… probably fucking mermaids and eating caviar until he collapses from the worst smelling orgasm imaginable

How does this apply to me, you ask? Simple, in more ways than you probably think. I had a serving of humble pie and it took me a while to build myself a new bubble of arrogance and even that’s just for display. I don’t mean to say that I privately sit in a corner crying and wishing I was Duke Nukem, but even the level of pretentiousness I’m at now is overplayed for a laugh and I’m easily thrown out of my groove by a sharp criticism and a backed up argument. I think that’s what gives the impression I believe myself to be superior, nobody has constructed a good enough reason for me to go kill myself and those that could do so, won’t do so for whatever reason. I guess it’s easy to cry over the little things, because ultimately the small details can add up to the bigger picture, but there are ways of handling things that put you in the wrong that just work better. I’m guilty of this, and so are you, and that’s attributing your misery to others. I’ve gone through a lot of work to stop giving a shit about the people who make me miserable and about eight of ten of those people have no power over me any longer. The world is cruel and savage and so forth, and I’m not gonna be the one who protects you from it’s horror or tell you it’s ok because you’re not here for comfort, you’re here because you know there are elements of truth in my comic ramblings and if you can’t see it, you’ve probably got bored by now and gone off to play games with the cat or something. I grew up with disappointment, and so did most of you, so why do we all feel the need to fly off the handle about everything we can’t have? People, tears buy nothing in this world but the sympathy of the few, and even that doesn’t wipe your runny nose for you.

Incidentally, a better idea for us all is to hang the sense of it and make the most of what comes your way, whilst trying to find that one thing to hold up as an umbrella in the shit storm. I imagine I’ll be unwittingly ordering more humble pie very soon, even though I still have some leftovers glaring at me in the fridge, but if anybody wants a piece, I recommend it and would suggest you serve it hot with the cream of consideration

Thank you.

YOLO – Bridging The Gap Between Impulses and Idiots (Originally Published – 18th July 2012)

Hello, I’m Jacob Wolfe, your top authority on how to be vile, sarcastic and a professional grade jerk about those menial things in life that make you want to shoot yourself, and every living human being within a ten mile radius of you. Here’s the deal, for those of you currently unaware, I’m going to go off on one once a week for your amusement about something in modern society that really bugs me, blow it out of proportion and type it up into the swarm of angry words that currently stare back at your gormless expression, deal?

So today I decided I would finally unleash my venom on the new age phrase of philosophy, YOLO, or for those of you who have been buried in sand for the past three months, you only live once. Yes, this is the insightful future of modern philosophy as put across to us in that intellectual scripture by great mind Drake. To quote the genius himself ‘You only live once, that’s the motto N***A, YOLO!’. Ever since the release of the song ‘The Motto’, by Drake, the phrase YOLO has served a meaningful purpose of justifying acts of mild to extreme impulse or stupidity in teenagers. Brilliant, thanks a bunch Drake, as if some of these little tosspots needed an excuse for being total cretins. Couldn’t you have suggested that our youths make the most of life by investing in their education or maybe not allowing Justin Bieber to earn more money in the music industry?

Now don’t get me wrong, I totally agree with the fact that you only get one chance at life and so you have to make the most of what you’re given or it’s your own loss really but what I can’t stand is this shorthand nonsense that basically makes anything impulsive or stupid perfectly reasonable in the eyes of the average idiot. I’m not sure if people realise this but you’ve always had just the one life; Drake did not make a scientific discovery when he pointed out the fact that when you die, you’re dead. Living once is not a revelation and if you’ve just realised this now, what the fuck was going on up in that mush of a brain you have? Seems my fellow teenager had previously been living under the impression life is nothing more than a prolonged game of Super Mario Brothers and that if you die, you strike a silly pose, fall off the screen and resume life from where you last left off. I always knew I was gonna die at the end of this life, are the rest of you all Hindu or did you just learn to count to one?

Ok, so YOLO is the phrase that people use to justify their impulsive actions in life, reminding themselves that they might as well enjoy being young and reckless before their inevitable demise. Brilliant, but you can’t just shout YOLO to defend everything you do in life because, let’s face it, a life lived on impulses alone is bad enough but a society living on impulse? I’ve put together a little scenario for you, to help you imagine how bad a world of impulse really is:

One day, you wake up to hear on the news that every single law has been repealed and struck off the record, the government has disbanded entirely to spend their retirement in the Playboy Mansion and that all wars have ended because neither side can be arsed anymore and would rather sit at home in their boxers and eat nachos with cheese. Fantastic! Freedom! You can do anything you like now! Oh wait, the news report continues and… the anchor-man is tea bagging the director on camera… YOLO. Right well, now you have a free world, you can go shop for all the things you want and never pay because, well, YOLO, might as well steal at some point! You run down to your local ASDA to stock up your shelves with junk food! Oreos! Wispa Bars! Milkshake! Yes it’s a suiting feast for the celebration of a new world! As you get to the till though, everything you hand to the checkout boy, he licks and throws in your face because he only has one life and he wants to enjoy his unfulfilled fantasy of bitch slapping a tosser like you with groceries, just your luck right? Oh well, you have managed to get some food and now it’s time to pinch yourself a new television, games console and all that stuff isn’t it? Wrong! You were beat to the punch by Joe Fuckface down the street and when you try to beg him for that 45 inch screen you need, he just punches your teeth out because YOLO! Anyone seeing a problem here? Oh, it’s worse than you think. Imagine the streets without people being sensible and reasonable as they walk along! You’re on your way home and all you can see are paedophiles with butterfly nets running around school playgrounds, young couples humping in the middle of the road and angry chavs beating the shit out of single mothers with planks of wood. Kittens are shot in the face, fireworks go off in a church, children jump off buildings and missiles fly back and forth because Obama thought ‘YOLO’ and decided he’d finish off Afghanistan personally. YOLO mother fuckers! Isn’t this fun? Now, how about you start living it up pal? Go on, go wild! Be impulsive! Be daring! Be bold! Be raped in an alleyway by a police officer and seven of his mates… so much for that one… Oops

The truth is, humanity is stupid and impulsive enough without excuses to be even worse

“Mein Fuhrer, you are asking us to commit genocide, you would kill millions for your own pleasure?”

“Hmmmm yeah, I would. YOLO!”

You don’t need to find excuses to be stupid if you’re stupid enough to shout YOLO so much, the world has already accepted the fact you are a stupid person. I would urge you to be impulsive if you like but honestly, water it down with some rational thinking now and again ok? Yes, you only live once but that’s not a good enough excuse to punch a toddler in the face or kidnap a penguin now is it? Really? If you have such a need to be bold and daring, get a job in the armed forces on the front line or take up a career in the stuntman industry, maybe even scrimp together your savings for a bungee jumping trip? You can be impulsive if you want but don’t make it a regular thing, that’s why it’s so daring when you do stupid things, it’s the rush of defying conventions. If you’re stupid every single waking moment of your life, that’s just being stupid full stop, not making the most of life. If you’re that stupid, something wild and daring for you might be sitting still for five minutes or trying out those wacky inventions called books? I tell you now, that’s some crazy ass shit right there.