Naughty Thoughts

Is it just me, or would any other parent like to hear Elmo lose it?

I know he's a puppet (or muppet... or living challenged monster... or whatever the PC term may be...), but some days I just long to hear him start swearing. I want him to throw stuff around, tell the bizarre and annoying Mr. Noodle to go to hell, and angrily stomp out of the scene.

It's just a dream, I know. But wouldn't you pay money to witness such a meltdown? I know I'd be in for a fiver...

The Quoibles of Humanity

I am constantly amazed by our American society.

In the same breath, someone will literally say, "Isn't that horrible about the VT shootings... and can you believe Sanjaya is still on American Idol?!?"

People are glued to their TV sets, but not to hear how we can help the victims' families of the latest massacre; instead, they are completely rapt by images of warbling teens all vying for the exciting chance to be verbally abused by Simon Cowell.

When did we become so strangely possessed with the ability to immediately disassociate from national tragedies? When did a fleeting moment of fame on a surreal show surpass what really matters in life?

I guarantee you that most families aren't using the VT incident as a chance to have in-depth, heartfelt discussions with one another in an effort to cool some of the angst that grips our youth. No, they are gathered together with their loved ones, silently watching wannabes sing weakened versions of rock and blues tunes. Nary a word will be shared between them, save, "Isn't she awful tonight?" or "Let's try to call this week!"

Am I the only one who finds this troubling?

Unmentionables

When is it that "unmentionables" became... well... mentionable?

I'm specifically talking about women's monthly "visitors". For some reason, females have come to believe that they can discuss their menstruation frequently (and loudly) to anyone, anytime, anywhere.

Isn't this supposed to be private?

I understand that it's a natural thing. So are boils and goiters. Want to hear about them from a stranger on the bus?

I'm not talking about girlfriends privately gabbing with their closest buddies, either. I've met gals only to be given detailed descriptions of the volume, color, and frequency of their flows moments after our introduction. Huh?!? I don't even know what they do for a living, and I'm already privy to the fact that they're ovulating?!?

Ladies. Please. Think.

Tampon ads may be all over the airwaves and panty liners are so commonplace they're practically next to the candy aisle at the grocery checkout... but that doesn't give carte blanche to freely muse about your menstrual cycle. Use a little common sense. I implore you.

Welcome to Quoibles!

(My first comment. What should it be? Should I wow the world with my style or make them laugh with my humor? Will I be rejected or embraced? Despised or sought out? Does it even make a bit of difference?)

I've long noticed that there are plenty of quirks and foibles in the universe, and I'm here to drag them out of the proverbial closet and into the public light for scrutiny. After all, what would life be without some judgmental analysis once in a while?

So let's start our journey with the following quoible:

If you're not a Catholic and you see a nun, what do you say?

On plenty of occasions, I've seen nuns in the grocery store, at retail stores, and even pumping their own gas. For years, I've hesitantly said, "Hello... sister." And, afterwards, I felt like a complete dork. I'm sure every nun I addressed in this manner knew right away that I was a heathen destined for the fiery pit of Satan's Summer Camp.

So what should you say? I don't go out of my way to address priests or rabbis in this manner. I never worry about offending a minister. But there's something about nuns that makes me a little nervous. Maybe part of me is Catholic and I just don't know it...

Until next time,

The Quoibler