WHATEVER – and stuff I don’t understand

People Magazine just announced the Sexiest Man Alive. I’m fine with that because my wife says I’m the sexiest man alive and I would believe her if it wasn’t for the loud and inappropriate giggling.

We have reached the 7 billionth person mark inhabiting this globe, with half of us males; but did People Magazine consider all of us? I didn’t get a call; did you? You must legally cover your behind making statements like that, so I can only assume that this dude is the one out of the billions considered. I admit he is a good looking specimen (alive), but if People Magazine ever wants to feature the Sexiest Man Still Dead, what I’m concerned, Cary Grant is the winner hands down; though I never understood that “hands down” term. Whatever!

I understand why we don’t hear much about Kamikaze Pilot Reunions, but I still don’t understand why Kamikaze pilots wore helmets into combat; I mean, what was the logic in that?

Do you understand why dogs find it socially appropriate to greet each other using the art of butt-sniffing? I don’t. I’m not sure what kind of information they get that way. Except in some cases, I’m fine that you and I are not greeting each other in this manner, because that would be really awkward. Don't you agree?

Did you know that using the term whatever can save you a bunch of time over a lifespan? Proof: “Would you like the toilet tissue paper to hang in or hang out from the wall?” (Life as it Really is doesn’t get richer than this, does it?) You can answer: “I deem it utterly appropriate to install said paper in a position of practicality and/or choice within the overall decor of this facility, blah, blah, blah…” Or you can use the much shorter version: “Whatever!” Some years back, a Boston University research found that using the phrase whatever can save each of us an average 4 hours and 22 minutes if we live to be 92. But same research neglected to inform us that within the subjects tested, the divorce rate jumped from 50% to 69%. Still, using whatever does save time. Don’t you think it’s worth it?

I didn’t understand why I had fear of heights, until I realized that I didn’t. It was the fear of falling down from these “heights” that I suffered from. So it went from fear of heights to fear of falling down; in some perverted way that made me feel a lot better – go figure.

I didn’t understand why I hated people who have everything, until I realized that it left nothing for me, of course.

My Mother has dementia and I don’t understand what the big deal is. I told her that suffering from dementia, short or long term memory loss, doesn’t make sense. I mean, how is it possible to suffer from something you can’t even remember you are suffering from? – Duh! I often explain this to her as she can’t remember that I have explained it to her before – and then she laughs and is momentarily happy. So I explain it again and again; I really love my Mother.

So how’s your face at this very moment? Is it just hanging there in neutral or are you smiling? If it’s just hanging there like in a “duh” position, make an effort to smile – any type of smile will do; be a sport and try it – nobody is watching. Now, doesn’t that feel a lot better? Even if you fake it? The simple muscle change from “duh” to a smile makes a huge difference and not just physically, but more so mentally and in attitude. Though it makes us feel so good, I don’t understand why we are not smiling a lot more? And we all look much better when we smile…

 I was walking the dog and this group-band- gang-wannabes or whatever came towards me. 6 or 7 young boys, 13-16 years old, pants hanging just above their sneakers, exposing a vast variety of undergarment styles, walking in whatever fashion. They did that swaying stuff while doing weird things with their fingers, no doubt meaning whatever; looking bloody cool and tough. What did Peter do? I smiled at them and did a simple: “Hey, how are you guys doing?” I was met with a huge battery of great smiles and “hey thanks, how about yourself – cute doggie…” and Tess was petted no end. “Have a good one…” they wished for me as we parted. So don’t tell me smiling doesn’t work, because it does.

Okay, so you are faced with a .357 Magnum and a demand for your life, your wife or your money and I’m not so sure a smile would help – but try it anyway; you never know (and good luck with that)…

There are a lot of things I don’t understand. Some I discard with a whatever, but other stuff I really want to find out about; so I do that. Like the other day I was wondering why the name John ended up as the term for a prostitute’s customer. It’s because that is the name most customers use to maintain anonymity (obviously lying to the prostitute; how rude is that?) So I wonder what customers named John for real call themselves for reasons of anonymity? Any suggestions?

Some use John when talking about a toilet. I couldn’t find the reason, but found out that Dunny is the Australian term for out-house; it’s an old English word for dung-house (how romantic is that?) Privy is used in North of England by some (old English for private). I’ll let you know about John/toilet if I find out. Now I know more about toilets than I really wanted to know. But then again, it might come in handy during a dinner conversation some time; I'll make sure of it...

Too much culture in one sitting? - Whatever...

See you next Monday

Question of the week:
If love is blind, why waste money on negliges?

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