The Bows and the B's

I cannot hold it any longer. I just can't. I have been bursting from the seems for some time, holding it in. Some days, I feel as though I can't see straight simply from all the red that covers my eyes thinking about this thing, and not being able to yell it out loud. OUT LOUD! I want you to know this. I WANT YOU TO KNOW! This is so serious. I am shaking with fury at this moment. So... here it is.

Ready?

So...

I HATE BOW TIES AND BOWLER HATS!

THERE. I said it. I can't even quantify my hatred for them. But IF I were to take a stab at it? I don't know. Somewhere in the ballpark of One Direction and other men's penises. Why do I hate them so much? I don't know. Look at them! How can you not hate them? They just look so ridiculous. Doing the top button up on your shirt in most situations is just silly (apparently I have a fat neck and can barely ever do it regardless), but doing your top button up on your SHORT sleeve shirt in order to put on a bow tie is offensive to those with functioning eyes. Just look at this guy?



Could anything else be more synonymous with douchebag? Didn't think so. I don't even know when bow ties became cool to wear socially. Was it Doctor Who? I don't know. I don't watch Doctor Who. The ball got rolling somewhere, and next second, every arsehat was wearing one. What is with that guy's solemn demeanour anyway? "Oh, I'm so shy, look at me, I hunch and wear bow ties". Your sleeves are flapping in the wind man. I hate you. I don't even know you, but I know I hate you. Respected Canadian style columnist Russell Smith was quoted as saying that bow ties were "not the mark of a ladies' man" and "not exactly sexy." Well said Russell, well said.

As for bowler hats? Put on an akubra for Christ sake. Or a fedora. Indiana Jones wears one, and he's a badass. But a bowler hat? Who are you, Charlie Chaplin? You aren't quirky! You're a try hard AND a blowhard. The bowler hat may have been popular in 19th century, but in case you hadn't noticed, that was some time ago. You alternative youth you. RETRO ISN'T COOL. It is a well known fact that I am paragon of cool. So when I tell you you look silly, you sit up and you listen! Pretending you care about the history associated with old fashion doesn't make you sophisticated, it makes you look pretentious. Also, The Bowler Bar sucks.

Xoxo Thomson and Thompson

Where's my catchphrase?

What'chu talkin' 'bout, Willis? - Arnold Jackson

D'oh! - Homer Simpson

Bite my shiny metal ass - Bender

Scooby dooby doo! - Scooby-Doo

Yabba dabba doo! - Fred Flintstone

How You Doin'? - Joey Tribiani

Giggity - Glenn Quagmire

I'm smarter than the average bear! - Yogi Bear

It's going to be legend... Wait for it, Dary! Legendary! - Barney Stinson

Ke-mo sah-bee -Tonto

He's dead, Jim - Leonard McCoy

Live long and prosper - Spock

Kamehameha - Goku

Life is long. People who say it is short are stupid. Life is really long, and nothing that happens throughout my life will be longer than the entirety of it (uh... duh?). Life is also really boring. According to the CIA (seriously), Australia's current life expectancy is nearly 82 years. That is nearly 30,000 days of our life we are expected to amuse ourselves. How? How exactly am I meant to amuse myself for such an extended period of time. I mean, I have been living for over 8000 days thus far, but I certainly can't say I have found those 8000 days entertaining. 

So in order to make life awesome and more entertaining for the other (hopefully) 22,000 days, I have decided to incorporate a catchphrase into my daily proceedings. I was initially uncertain as to what I wanted this catchphrase to be, and considered many different options. My friends suggested my oft spoken phrase "Suck me off, ya dumb dog!", but apparently some overweight Indigenous lady has already taken that one. However, after much pondering, I devised the most simply yet catchy catchphrase available! I have decided to use "Where are my pants?" as my new personal catchphrase, primarily because... well, where are they?

I am often in a state of wandering around my house is my underpants, or my pajama pants, and never plan any of my outfits ahead of time. So usually, when it become an appropriate time for me to actually put on my pants, I will henceforth exclaim, "Where are my pants?" to anybody listening (or anybody I am communicating with on the line, on the phone, or on the toilet). Also, I have lots and lots of loose sex with women I don't know, so when I comes to my departure from their abode (well they ain't going back to my place!), I can now jump up off there bed, look around the room in confusion, and shout "WHERE ARE MY PANTS?"

Xoxo Burgo

P.S. My sauces:

https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/rankorder/2102rank.html