Methinks: What’s your problem, it’s not like they ate YOUR cookies

Though I normally don’t indulge in anger I allowed myself the rare treat of getting worked up after first reading that calling someone fat has become more offensive than calling them worthless scum and then Wiki-walking myself to the Anti-fat Bias and The Thin Ideal articles. The relief I couldn’t help but feel for knowing I inhabited the safe section of the human form spectre and was therefore exempt from being harassed on the account of my weight only served to further my aggravation. I’m not much into enjoying the thanks-god-it’s-not-me sentiment as I find it all too similar to the toxic schadenfreude for my emotional comfort.

But seriously, why is it suddenly so wrong to be chubby? Not so long ago, some meat on your bones was considered a plus; a woman with ample curves was seen as appealing while a man with a nicely-rounded belly was perceived to be well-off and a guy to be reckoned with. At least where I live, there hardly seems to be any shortage of sayings to this effect. An entertainingly inebriated chap once told me he preferred a heavily-set lady to a lean one any day. (Why? Because, according to this wise fellow, the skinny one is liable to be concentrating on sucking her tummy in even under the sheets.) Continue reading Methinks: What’s your problem, it’s not like they ate YOUR cookies

Methinks: Politicians, Part II

I never know with the Americans; do they even realise how wonderfully cynical they are? The current USA ambassador to Slovenia, His Excellency Joseph Adamo Mussomeli, who has earned quite a reputation for frequently voicing his opinion of our bickerings, recently said something like ”In the USA, politicians pretend to hate each other, but your politicians hate each other for real”.

(You gotta love this guy. He’s outspoken to the point of being brave, brilliant, with a great sense of humour. He succeeded in ticking off more people than all other ambassadors to Slovenia present and past combined. One of the few things about him that sort of fits what I’d expect from a diplomat is his undeniable charm and his skill at wooing the press – though he assures us that the media are always going for his throat.) Continue reading Methinks: Politicians, Part II

Guess the Machine

The machine converts various plant materials into semi-dry pellets. It’s self-propelled, runs on eco fuel exclusively and it is easy to activate by placing raw material anywhere within its reach and wait for the impressive array of sensors to point it the right way. The input material is taken up at the front end, broken down into smaller bits and finely ground. The machine then proceeds to process the resulting pulp by extracting fluids and compressing the remaining material into pellets which are ejected from its rear end.

The pellets are of two types: the hard pellet that is considered the final product and as such ignored by the machine, and the soft pellet that is picked up by the machine almost instantly and dutifully recycled. The previously-extracted fluid is excreted at the rear too, usually at the lowest point of the plane accessible to the machine, and if it happens to be a soft surface you’re either standing or sitting upon, the fluid will be deposited right where your foot or your butt, respectively, is parked. Continue reading Guess the Machine

Regardless of what your mother said, you most definitely are Slovenian if

Your whole attitude to life could be summed up by ‘You can do whatever you want with me but you’d better not interfere with my driving!’ – that having been said, here are some sure giveaways as to your Slovenian roots:

– Your car is worth as much as your house or more; if you’re renting, your monthly car payment exceeds your rent.

– If you see an expensive car following the traffic rules, you consider it a waste of a fine vehicle and start fantasizing about all the rubber you’d be burning if you could afford a car like that.

– If you see an expensive car breaking the traffic rules you consider it proof that all rich people are inconsiderate thieving bastards who think they can get away with anything and could sure use a good whipping. Continue reading Regardless of what your mother said, you most definitely are Slovenian if

Tell-tale signs you might be Slovenian, Part II

– You would never consider moving in order to land a better job.

– You will, however, backpack, hitchhike, climb, crawl and paddle your way from the Arctic to Antarctica and back just for fun.

– When abroad, you can never avoid running into your fellow nationals no matter how secluded your destination may be because they’re everywhere.

– Each time you encounter your fellow countrymen anywhere outside of your national borders you pretend to be glad to see them but in reality you consider your trip a failure and swear to seek out an even remoter place next time.

– You go to the Croatian coast each summer despite knowing it has one of the highest numbers of your fellow nationals per square foot on record and then complain under your breath about everybody around you speaking your language and feel like somebody robbed you of your holiday experience.

– You don’t necessarily go out of your way to make people from other former Yugoslav republics feel particularly welcome in your country but if you happen upon them abroad you couldn’t be happier and you’ll get drunk together and reminisce about the good old Yugoslavia until you jointly pass out under the table. Continue reading Tell-tale signs you might be Slovenian, Part II

Tell-tale signs you might be Slovenian, Part I

You might be Slovenian if:

– You own a car, a house and some land and you’re always complaining about being underprivileged.

– Whenever somebody visits you apologise profusely for your house being such a mess despites the fact the whole place is next to sterile with no clutter in sight.

– No matter how broke you claim to be you seem to have little problem finding money for high-end sports equipment.

– You claim to have no money while going out for drinks every night and taking seaside vacations and ski trips several times a year.

– You believe a deep tan is a sign of health and athleticism and feel obligated to drop hints to this effect around fair-skinned individuals.

– You believe your politicians must be some sort of an experiment gone wrong and are under no circumstances to be considered a reflection of your national character. Continue reading Tell-tale signs you might be Slovenian, Part I

Lifestyle decisions I

Doctor: You need to quit smoking, drinking and eating junk immediately.

Patient: Nah, it’s too late for me anyway.

Doctor: Don’t say that, it’s never too late!

Patient: Well I guess I’ll just wait a while longer then.

I still think this joke is funny. But… When somebody close to you falls ill, nah, when enough people around you have developed chronic diseases to shatter your comfortable denial of the fact everyone’s arse -yours included – isn’t getting any younger, it’s time for some introspection and life-changing plans. I’ve been relying on my robust genetics and love of movement to keep me healthy and presentable for decades and I guess it would be wise to add healthy nutrition to the mix. I’m a vegetarian with an inclination towards occasional forays into the pescarian (=fish-eating) domain. My dad taught me how to fish when I was little and this is probably why I still consider fish fair game but it’s not something I’m particularly proud of. I’ve been helping take care of my mum’s koi and I’m finding this whole fisher-gatherer attitude increasingly difficult to pull off. It’s complicated 🙂 Continue reading Lifestyle decisions I

Word order matters: An oddly appropriate Halloween post

Earlier today when I was getting my daily fix of online tabloids doing my vocabulary-building exercises I became fascinated by the following heading:

 

Two-year-old daughter of one of Britain’s richest men found hanged on a blind cord by her mother at their 12 million London home.

 

I imagine it didn’t take long before they heard from the grieving mother’s lawyer. The last time I checked the heading read:

 

Three-year-old daughter of one of Britain’s richest men is found by her mother hanged on a blind cord at their 12m home.

 

Oh well… Sometimes I wonder if the English language might benefit from reintroducing some of the declensions it used to have. In the meantime, a couple of strategically placed commas could help resolve the delicate matter of who did the finding and who did the hanging nicely.

 

But seriously, it’s safe to say the parents have enough on their plate without the added aggravation from hastily-composed tabloid headlines.

Things I didn’t know were possible until I had them happen to me

Bread cuts. I picked up half a loaf of day-old bread only to find myself shrieking like a surprised marmot upon feeling the crust deliver a ¼ inch gash between my thumb and index finger. I didn’t expect a half-eaten bun to fight back with such fervour and I’m not quite sure that’s proper behaviour for supermarket-bought food. I wonder what they’ve been putting into flour these days. Anyway, the idea of bread cutting me sounds like a Yakov Smirnoff joke.