Pyjama Boy and The Curmudgeon

As shocking as it may seem, yours truly has friends and relatives. You probably thought I was raised by wolves? I was recently fortunate enough to spend time with kith and kin. Despite being cuddly as a porcupine and a bit of a loner; I love them.

We all benefit when ties of friendship (or blood) are strong and I hope to foster them. Sadly, the last few years the media has hammered the idea of family (love?) over politics. Thanksgiving and Christmas invariably lead to abhorrent bullshit media articles:

  • From CNN*: “Breaking News, How To Withstand Insufferable Nitwits At Thanksgiving Dinner.”
  • From Slate*: “Everyone Else Is Stupid. Make Sure To Explain This To Them.”
  • From Hot Air*: “Your New Year’s Resolution To Tell Everyone About Benghazi.”
  • From FOX News*: “Ten Ways to Verbally Pile Drive Your Elitist Douchebag Cousin Who Bought A Prius With The Student Loan Money He’ll Never Repay.”
  • From People Magazine*: “Why It’s Your Duty To Discuss Bruce Jenner’s Genitalia On Christmas Eve.”
  • From The New York Times*: “Talking Points To Fling At The Retrograde Bitter Clingers Who Live In The Wasteland Between Manhattan and LA.”

It seemed to peak with this simpering eunuch:

Dear God! Kill it before it reproduces.

Dear God! Kill it before it reproduces.

I set out to spend my holidays as politics free as humanly possible. Should Pyjama Boy go on the offensive I’d change the subject to index funds, double my whiskey intake, and smile. I can do that on Jesus’ birthday of all days! I’d do it for the good of humanity. I’d be strong. I meant well.

It almost worked but I made a miscalculation. I failed to understand that I’m Pyjama Boy’s diametrically opposed reflection. Like him, I speak volumes simply by existing. Damn!

Look at Pyjama Boy up there. Don’t you just want to beat him with a frying pan? Even without the text you’d still smell blood in the water. For one side of the political spectrum he’s a human version of a red flag in front of a bull. Can you imagine a conversation with that flake about a neutral, non-political, interest? You could propose a discussion of… anything and it would be boring to him. Imagine trying and rejecting topics alphabetically; apples, aardvarks, the Apollo program, beer, bacon, boobs, cars, Carthaginian civilization, cats, dogs, dingos, Dio, elves, Eggos, farts, frogs, fornication… need I go through the alphabet? By the time I’d gotten to Led Zepplin, Ziplock bags, and zero point energy I think we’d all agree the man-boy in the picture would struggle to talk about non-politics.

Luckily I’m not him. But I’m the polar opposite of Pyjama Boy and that brings its own baggage.

I’m into liberty. I radiate it. I think about it. I breathe it. I see it. I feel it. I care about it. Liberty has seeped into my pores and it shows. Just as the twit up there simply enrages us; I might do the same to him. Despite my best intentions I’m a walking beacon of personal liberty… and I can’t lower the wattage.

I tried, I really did. But I’m a human steamroller of “don’t tread on me”. It surfaced in whatever I did.

When I helpfully took out the trash I discovered that clear plastic bags were required by regulation and just about hyperventilated. Some folks must use clear garbage bags to verify their compliance with recycling or something similar (I wasn’t clear on the details). They think it’s normal. I think anyone who examines my trash is fixin’ to get it shoved up their ass. Yet who am I to question their world view? I tried to ignore it and was only mildly successful.

There was a swear jar in a tavern. WTF! I pre-paid a buck and opined that if there’s a time and place to swear it’s at the bar. Seriously, folks you gotta’ help me with this. What kind of Stalinist shithead wants us to talk like children at a motherfucking bar?

Whoops. Not very mellow of me was it? Was my thinking akin to Pyjama Boy who’d demand a fruit smoothie of the same tavern?

I lurched from one confusing or non (anti?) freedom moment to the next. My bacon raising, gun toting, wood splitting, bearded, backwoods, redneck internals couldn’t self calibrate.

We went shopping. I bought ammo and lit the “gun control” fuse. Silly me. Who doesn’t think ammo is a great stocking stuffer? People who don’t like guns; duh! Lesson learned.

My computer runs Linux. Why? I have nothing to hide so why not let it all hang out on Facebook? After all the NSA people are surely nice people who are keeping us safe. Alas my laptop is encrypted and has a skull placard on  top. It radiates menace to the trusting.

I was not in my natural habitat and wasn’t good at blending in. So I apologize to the universe… and kith and kin. I tried to be neutral but I’m as subtle as a hurricane. They looked across the dinner table and saw this:

I am smiling.

Perhaps next time I’ll be more mellow. Possibly sedated. At least sufficiently so folks on the opposite side of the political spectrum don’t look like they’re about to burst into flames. I’m trying. I swear I am.


* Like many references on the internet, these are made up.

About Adaptive Curmudgeon

I will neither confirm nor deny that I actually exist.
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13 Responses to Pyjama Boy and The Curmudgeon

  1. Timbotoo says:

    Great post. I finished it right to the end and saw your disclaimer. Reading the list of mag titles the first time through I commented mildly to myself, “Jeez, AD is rigorous in his research.” Such is the sorry state of affairs that it is what I have come to expect in the MSM.

  2. Judy says:

    Thanks for the chuckle!

    Here’s my problem, I look like the granny that sits front row of your local fundamentalist church. I sure got some looks by the patrons and staff of the local liquor store when I went in to buy my Christmas cheer.

  3. m says:

    Frying pan? seriously at least a 38 louisville all american stick of wood…..

    • Phil B says:

      I’d opt for a piece of 4×2 – not lightweight pine or fir but a solid, well seasoned piece of oak. But I wouldn’t argue too strenuously about your choice of “educational implement”.

      After beating him with it, I’d shove it where the sun don’t shine (and I don’t mean Pittsburgh).

  4. Ro says:

    I’m not even American and still think pyjama boy needs beating to death. Preferably with the reinforced butt of my Lee Enfield. Where did such wimpy kids come from FGS! The Americans I used to meet on airbases across the world looked nothing like that effeminate doofus. Even the limpist recruit could have beat him to death with a pencil and that’s the airforce!
    I too was dazzled by the depth of your research until I saw the Asterisk …….

  5. Mark Matis says:

    Surely next time you just need to limit your talk to something that interests you:
    The 1976 AMC Gremlin. Extol its virtues. Wax poetic about the divine inspiration shown by the design team, and the amazing build-quality which made it one of the most reliable subcompact cars of its era..

  6. abnormalist says:

    Frying pan? No…

    Cast Iron Skillet. Just remember to wipe it down when your done and add a little oil/lard

    • P2 says:

      Frying pan would work just fine…I’d wager Pyjama Boy is a vegan and would shrink from anything that may have ever been used to render bacony goodnes…he drives a puke green Subaru Outback with a pod on top if he drives at all…the radio buttons are all permanently broken to NPR and he wears the free Birkenstocks that came with it religiously with his Columbia jacket & 100% post consumer fiber dog ear knit hat. Even in summer. He’s afraid of good coffee, good beer, and would strike out in a slow pitch softball game if he had the fortitude to understand the game and play. In a nutshell, that is the personification of the downfall of our great way of life…… I weep for our future.

  7. MadRocketSci says:

    I know what you mean.

    And if your articles titles are fake, I can vouch for conversations to that effect that took place among coworkers and acquaintances. I *think* I’m successful at blending in … usually. But it’s hard to hide.

    Funny comment about the encrypted Linux laptop too. Some of my friends (not as politically hostile as my other acquaintances) noticed that about my computer equipment, and made some interesting (and accurate) assumptions about my attitudes towards privacy, security, and individual freedom.

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