New kind of greeting

I watch a lot of television (more than I probably should be watching but that will be our little secret) and lately I have seen female friends greet each other by calling the other a slut and whore. When did this start? Is this now the new social nicety? I have not seen this done in real life but since I am a social shut-in there is no telling what I might be missing. If people start doing this, how will one know when the word is actually used as an insult. "Should I be mad at this person or are they just being friendly?"

Can you imagine how parents might feel if they overhear conversations where someone calls their daughter a slut? "Oh, I am so happy! Someone finally knows the truth about my girl and is not afraid to say it out loud. Someone sure raised that girl right! I am so proud of my little slut. The money spent on getting her tramp stamp was well worth it." Obviously tramp stamps are a good investment since it will allow people who see it to nod knowingly to each other.

I think guys should be allowed to call other guys little terms of endearments like this. "Yo, man whore, how's it going?". Men could call women by these pet names as well but they run the risk of women bringing out their most powerful weapon: Tears.

Men can't call women sluts anymore than white people can use the n-word. As long as we are going back to behavior that is no longer socially acceptable I am going to bring up the time when men could bop a woman on the head and drag her back to his man cave where he would claim her for his own.

I miss those times.

Going to a local bar, dragging my club behind me. Looking at all the women standing around the water hole. Going up to one and saying "I like you. You pretty!" before knocking her on the head and dragging her home.

Of course, the occasional accident happens. "Dang, Aag, you hit her too hard. Now she no move". Stare at her for a few minutes before declaring "She not that pretty" and move onto the next woman. She would lay there several minutes before cracking one eye open and ask if I had gone home yet. At least we know somethings never change.

Time went by and it became unpopular to hit women (which is still a rule) and take them home. Eventually you could no longer drag a woman home but you were able to buy a woman. Take her dear old dad a sheep and you had yourself a genuine woman to call your own. In some cases the father got the better side of the deal.

Now you cannot even legally buy a woman. Not that most people have sheep or cows to trade for wives anymore. Now we would have to trade technology for a wife.

Suitor: I have an Ipad Touch.
Father: Does it come with an extended warranty?
Suitor: No.
Father: Get off my land.

Even that has come to an end. Now women get to make the choice. First we give them the right to vote and now they have the right to choose who they are going to marry. Maybe that is why the divorce rate is so high. Women have the right to decide they do not want to be married to the same person anymore.

Try telling a woman "Woman, get in that kitchen and make me dinner!" and see what happens. She will be the one swinging the club now. Women don't like demands (Woman, get undressed and get in that bed! Woman, I make the rules in this house!) starting with the word "woman" but apparently they no longer mind being called slut or whore by other female friends. Go figure.

A not so special day.

So my birthday went past and it was like any other day. I flea bombed my residence (okay, that was not like every other day. I don't want the readers to get the wrong idea. I am not living in a den of fleas.) and went to work that evening. What amazed me is that people grew upset later since I did not mention it was my birthday.

My response to their irritation was "Really, that is what you are mad about and not what I did to your lunch which was delicious by the way!".

I don't talk about it so I can avoid any disappointment later. If I talk about it and no one says anything then my feelings get hurt. So, being pragmatic, I keep my mouth shut.

Unfortunately, Facebook posts your birthday and most people ignored it. Sure I received some messages containing birthday wishes but most did not even notice. This is exactly when I realized FB is just like real life.

I suppose all of the disdain for the day arises from the fact that my parents wanted to save money when I was young so they had me dress up as the clown at my own birthday parties. They would get me in the clown gear and they tell me to go entertain all the guests.

I have to believe this is where my fear of clowns and public speaking came from. I would see my reflection and turn to run away. This always ended with me running into a wall and knocking myself unconscious. This may explain my distrust of walls. Has anyone ever notice that they are everywhere. Anytime you look at a man made structure, you can see the walls. This cannot be a coincidence.

The only thing about clowns that interests me are the pants that can drop when they squeeze a ball. I would love to have a pair of those that I can wear around town, just having them drop when I feel like it. I can just hear the people screaming "You could have worn some underwear!" To which I would smirk and say "No, I couldn't".