I’m listening to Patsy Cline singing You Belong to Me and I’m reminded of the episode in Ally Mcbeal when Billy died and he told her he loved her just before dying. I cried buckets during that episode, especially when Ally told Georgia (Billy’s wife, the cheating asshole) that he spoke of her (Georgia) with his last breath. The whole he-loves-her-but-married-someone-else, she-loves-him-but-he’s-married and she-loves-him-but-he-loves-someone-else was very annoying at times but overall you just hoped it never happened to you and felt sorry for everyone involved. OMG, TV! Is it any wonder I stick to cooking shows and NG documentaries?
I’ve always had this difficulty in remembering what the meat of certain animals are called other than beef or chicken. You know, like mutton from goats, lambchops from uh.. lambs and veal from…WHAT? So while arguing with Stinky whether or not I will get him a boxset (Killer of Sheep: The Charles Burnett Collection) for Christmas, this conversation came up:
“Rare ok. This is an awesome movie. One of the first to be included in the Library of Congress.”
“OK, OK, but why do you need a movie? We’re killer of sheep too. I love mutton!”
“Mutton kambinglah, ngok.”
“Oh, OK. No boxset.”
I haven’t whined in a long time so here goes 2 grouses.
#1 : If you go to a party and you know it’ll be, oh I dunno, say a BBQ, and that meat, carbs and alcohol will be the order of the day but you’re allergic to meat, carbs and alcohol, isn’t it your responsibility to bring your own tofu-based dish to eat instead of whining and saying no to everything’s that offered to you? Or say that the party will have dogs and cats in attendance but you hate all non-humans, isn’t it better for you not to come or swallow your revulsion for the day instead of insisting that all the critters be banished for your lone convenience?
#2: I am very much a believer that dirty laundry should not be aired in public. You may argue that by my having a blog and talking about my digestion and resulting shit is contradicting this belief, but I’m talking about the sort of dirty laundry that involves people’s feelings and others’ perception about them. I mean when I post about my tummy aches and hemorrhoids, you have the choice to stop reading and deleting this blog’s URL from your PC (plus it’s MY shit I’m talking about, not yours). You can’t do that when someone corners you and proceeds to tell you that their spouse isn’t good in bed, or that they think their spouse is cheating on them or that they want to have their vaginas tightened through surgery. If you’re my friend, you’re absolutely welcome to tell me about the sore nipples you have from last night’s sexual escapade or how someone stuffed a toy car up your ass when you were drunk, but if I barely know you beyond “hello, good morning, see you tomorrow” then don’t freaking tell me that your brother’s ex-girlfriend hexed him and he now has 3 penises and expect me to not look at you in horror. Sorry lah. My life has too much drama already. I can’t take yours.