I get a rash everytime I hear some hypocrite sounding off about "values" ,"family values", "mainstream values" etc. My entire body is covered in oozing, pustulent blisters, but at least my conscience is clean.
I'm kidding. I'm not covered in bloody boils and I'm constantly tormented by my past mis-deeds, but at least I don't go around pretending to be some great arbiter of morality and values.
While well-publicized examples like former "Morality Czar" (and inveterate whore-mongering gambling-impaired alcoholic) William Bennett immediately come to mind when discussing hypocrites, there are smaller , everyday examples that really get my hives in bloom.
Like Patrick. Patrick is a stinking twenty-something hippy that used to annoy the hell out of me at the old comic shop. Patrick will never have a job, but he's got at least two children by two different women. I recently ran into Mom #2 at market and innocently asked about Patrick. Ooops! She got red and let loose a vile stream of invective about him. She kicked his ass out because he wouldn't get a job or help with the kid (she has two jobs).
Patrick says working for other people is moral and spiritual prostitution. There may be some truth to that, but when heard from the mouth of someone who lives off of a single working mother, those words lose all meaning.
Patrick complains about not having any food to eat -in the same breath he'll aggressively criticize you for eating pepperoni. Patrick doesn't honor his debts- if you ask him to pay you back he starts with a lecture on materialism.
Patrick is one of those unwashed pseudo-liberals that have nothing to offer, yet insist we should all share. He smells like patchouli oil and dirty feet. Once ,I sprayed him with air freshener and he started ranting about the ozone layer. According to Patrick, our water supply is so polluted that bathing makes you dirtier. He convinces good-hearted women that he's a delicate flower who needs nurturing and love. In reality, a tapeworm would make a better life-partner.
I imagine it's only a matter of time until someone kills Patrick. I'd have done it myself, but beating up scrawny, tofu gobblin' hippies isn't challenging enough to be fun.
2 comments:
Every time I smell patchouli I say, "It smells like dirty hippy."
Yeah! Who do they think they're fooling anyway?
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