At about 1115 this morning it started snowing. Hard tiny little pellets, too light to be called hail. Since then it has snowed harder and lighter. I’d say it was snowing like a motherfucker but it’s not, it’s more like snowing like someone taking sideways lingering and wistful glances at a mother, perhaps not even his own. I always assume motherfuckers are dudes. I guess that could be sexist but I’m curious to see who it is exactly that would complain, would defend the right of a woman to be a motherfucker. It’s not really literal. It does seem impolite, however, to call bitchs and ho’s motherfuckers.
Oh, yeah, so, snowing like someone who likes mommys but maybe not in that way, which isn’t worth mentioning except that’s it’s motherfucking April up in this motherfucker. It’s April everywhere that uses our calendar, even if it’s just for the bawdy pictures. Even wacky upside down places that are a day behind or ahead, it’s still April.
The snow wasn’t sticking, it is now, a little bit. Snow doesn’t get futility or irony, though it’s more futile trying to stick than it is ironic. I’d have to think harder than I feel like to come up with a way of this snow being ironic. I don’t know if it’s still a stereotype but the rest of the world thinks that Americans don’t understand irony. Like any stereotype a large significant portion of sample doesn’t fit the stereotype. However, if it’s based on use of language alone, we don’t understand sick or phat or motherfucker very well either. I feel pretty secure in saying, however, American snow doesn’t know from irony. I’m also pretty sure that if it did it wouldn’t change it’s course or act differently at all.
Often when I write about the weather it’s because I have nothing whatsoever to say but am compelled to type for any number of guided and misguided notions that I have outlined ad infinitum on these very pages and pages just like these. Also, as far as American stereotypes go, I’m thinking americans can use irony in a sentence with much greater ease than ad infinitum. Coincidently that’s another another use for motherfucker, concealing the use of other words, e.g. Get you some irony ad infinitum motherfucker.
Snow. It’s snowing.
There’s this old Scottish ballad about a great warrior, you know, sort of, called Jack McGraw. The chourus is something like; The wind may bla, the rain may rain and the sna may sna but ye’ll nae see the like of Jack McGraw. Shut up, it is too a cool song.
So I caught a few commercials for the last season of American Idol. A few months ago I caught a few about the upcoming last season. Christ but it’s some sentimental propaganda ankle deep horse shit. Heh, reminds me of two jokes. In one the salesman is up to neck in a pond, he’s bitching at the farmer, the farmer says “It up comes up to here on my ducks.” The other the city slicker it up to his neck in horseshit, he bitchs at the polock farmer “You said it only came up to your ankles!” The polock says “I dove in head first.”
American idol is and always has been a karaoke show, granted, less drunk Japanese tourists and a better PA system. But still, a karaoke show where the meanest members of the audience get microphones and say things, mean things, because that’s half of what gets people watching. Just saying that instead of nostalgic the commercials make me embarrassed to be the viewing public even though I don’t watch. There are fantastic starving musicians doing original work and actually playing instruments on the streets of every American city who I’d rather watch and listen too than Idol. Early on they were jaded enough to admit with pride that it wasn’t about talent, necessarily, but image; if you present most like a pop star they will make you one. Yet Milly Vanilly lost their shitty career for being fake. WTF? Yeah, I’m sure there’s a current example, but I can’t think of one.
Just as an aside, I never liked the arrangements Idol did to pop songs. Always over-produced, not even an attempt to sound spontaneous. And taped. Maybe there was a season with a live band, I never saw it.
I’m glad I stopped mid-bitch. I can hold a bitch for a while, but I can’t sustain one. I mean rant. I love me some bitchs and/or motherfuckers. Ok, go back to whatever you were doing, god knows I did a few paragraphs back, and again just now.
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