It’s a fact of life and if there’s one thing known by people close to me, it’s that I keep it real. Cynicism is a waste of time, but, believe it or not, failing to acknowledge the times when things aren’t going great can ultimately lead to a cynical mindset. Keeping negative emotions pent up doesn’t make them go away; it just makes them worse. In light of that, I’d like to go on record and say that this was a decidedly atrocious week. I’m not talking about a routine squall, but really a Perfect Shit-Storm. So many things converged at once to make this week one that just wouldn’t pass quickly enough. So, sit back, relax, maybe grab some popcorn, because you’re about to hear all about it.
To that end, I should point out one more thing generally known by those I know best: I’m really not in the habit of taking bullshit, particularly teenage bullshit. And, you may rest assured, the surliness, poor attitude, and “too-cool-for-school” mentality so typical of American teens is something that transcends culture. In fact, it’s one of the things that reminds me culture is pretty much an entirely human construct and that beneath the mores and customs that define those cultures, we’re all remarkably the same. I once said that all cultures are, in their own way, superficial; a better way to say it is that all cultures are, by their very nature, superficial. The stuff that makes us human is rooted far deeper.
I have never had a nosebleed. Nope, not one. I say this because a lot of people find that little tidbit about me really interesting. “You mean you’ve never had a nosebleed?,” people ask. “Not even once?” I know, crazy right? I’m not sure about this, but maybe nosebleeds are like flammable flatus. Only about a third of humans have the bacterial cultures and genetic background necessary to produce methane-rich farts. And, yes, before you ask, farts are indeed flammable if they contain methane. That said, it’s not advisable for you to attempt to light your body’s natural gas on fire: if it does catch, it burns faster than it can exit your body and can burn your intestine (or so I’ve been told). True or not, it’s enough to make me not really want to try it as that’s an injury I’d be mortifyingly embarrassed to explain to an emergency room doctor. 
How do you tell your best friend he or she really doesn’t sing that well, despite whatever strong beliefs he or she may have to the contrary? How do you tell your wife, husband, or partner that while you definitely appreciated the thought and the effort, he or she should take more care to put two cups of sugar, not salt, into the cookie batter next time? How do you tell the people in your home country they need to extract their heads from their collective asses and get their shit together? I’ll be honest on the first two: hell if I know. The last one, however, is a much easier conversation to provoke. Simply remind America using cold, hard facts that this self-perpetuating mythos that its the greatest thing to ever happen to humanity amounts to little more than a national circle-jerk. Actually, it’s even worse than that: we’re talking about a massive sausage party consisting of old, balding, obese men who’ve long since passed their primes repeatedly telling each other they’re still God’s gift to women and, since it’s so often repeated, actually believe it. That’s really sad, folks.
