Show Us Whatcha Got, Boys

Meredith, fashion queen here. OK, not really, but I'd like to say a few more words about that subculture out there wearing those ungodly pants.

Today I was walking behind a group of young people. Please, will someone explain the baggy pants? They're not simply baggy, they really aren't pants at all as they don't even cover the underpants. One of the young men kept his pants from falling around his ankles with an extremely wide-based gait as the waistband was situated at his mid-thigh. It looks stupid, unless you're Bert the chimney sweep doing a dance with animated penguins in the movie Mary Poppins.



The style, apparently, is associated with gang toughness. If they aren't wielding the guns we all assume they carry, it wouldn't be hard to escape their gangster clutches - just pull the pants down to their ankles, push them over, and run away.

Tough guys, take my word for it. Girls like the bad boys and have since the beginning of time. The thing is, you gotta look good. Wrapping yourself up in what looks like old burlap bags isn’t sexy. Walking like a penguin isn't sexy either. Come on boys, show us your real weapon. Girls want to see the whole package.

Here are some eye-catching bad-boy pants:

The Dancer

The Biker

The Cowboy

The Hoodlum

My personal favorite, The Rock Star

Yum, huh? Show us what you’ve got, boys, unless you’re actually out for a jolly holiday with Mary.

Match.gov

Corporate couples make me uncomfortable.

Maybe corporate couples wouldn't make me so uncomfortable, but I work in the public sector where outright indications of adultery are, well, uncomfortable. We as government workers in an extremely liberal state are supposed to be politically correct, are we not? Isn't committing a sin against God politically incorrect? (Maybe I'm getting my two wings confused.) Plus, people in the public sector lack the polish and panache of those stereotypically found in the private sector. In other words, corporate couples are much more attractive than government couples.

Take, for example, Bed Head and Mouse Mouth. Both are married to other people, although for the life of me I can't figure out who would have either one of them. Bed Head hasn't washed his hair in three weeks and walks around with a Leatherman attached to his belt loop. He's big in the union. A loudmouth. A dirty loudmouth. Mouse Mouth also has a hard time remembering to wash her hair, although I think she may get around to it every three or four days. She has the lips of a rat. Bed Head and Mouse Mouth have been seen at one of the dingiest bars of the whole city, making out with each other over lunchtime cocktails. I wonder what the union guys would say if they knew Bed Head was schweeling on company time?

Then there's Oompa and Clark. Oompa is really long-waisted and short-legged, taking on the appearance of an Oompa-Loompa, except she has ginormous boobs. Clark is a suave and handsome IT guy. Oompa and Clark meet each other around corners and in closets. They don't exactly hide, but they totally throw off the vibe that they are doing something wrong. Again, both are married to other people. Plus, one funny bonus is that Clark will not acknowledge any woman in passing when he is with Oompa, but will flirt shamelessly with them all when she isn't around.

Don't forget Tina and That Supervisor Guy. Again, both married to other people. Tina and That Supervisor Guy are shameless in the time they spend together, which makes me think there isn't really anything going on. However, if I knew my husband was spending so much time with one woman during working hours, I'd be a little miffed.

Throughout the years there have been many rumors floating about concerning the hob-nobbery of many coworkers in my department. I, for one, have never, ever been attracted to anyone I've shared work hours with. Yuck.

So when I see these little couples walking around the building or chatting over cubicle walls I get a little sick to my stomach. I just don't even want to think about the connections between Big Red and The Whisperer, two married women, inseparable at work.

Gag me.

2008? No, It's 1984

Here's something that happened to me today that caused a rant in me containing a burning anger of a thousand white-hot suns. E-mail quarantine.

I was writing a particularly gripping piece to my sister today on the concept of the collective unconscious. It's a theory developed by Carl Jung and proposes that not only do we have an individual unconscious unique to our own experiences, but also a collective unconscious shared by every human being since the beginning of time. I applied that theory to receiving messages from dead people through dreams.

As you might imagine, the note I wrote to my sister was quite complex, containing detailed theories regarding the human psyche, the afterlife, and the paranormal. It took me quite a long time to articulate what I was trying to convey. Finally I was able to click "send."

Within seconds I received a message from the e-mail quarantine center stating my message was deemed racially discriminating and it was not only quarantined but obliterated completely.

Now I can understand if my employer doesn't want me writing personal e-mails on work time or on the work e-mail network thingy. I was in error doing that. I will punish myself for not being more sneaky. But to take a piece of writing, copyrighted merely by its creation, and not only block it from its intended recipient but completely destroy it on the basis of a keyword which may have been construed as racially discriminating? That's out and out censorship. Even if my subject matter had been racially discriminating, I think it's wrong for anyone or anything to delete it from existence - well, my existence at least. Reprimanding is one thing. Being the judge of all things written is another.

So I'm pretty down on Big Brother today. I'm down on the fact that nothing is private. I'm down on the fact that my intellectual ramblings are deleted by my employer, and yet the dozens of people who can't/won't do their jobs aren't being fired. Where will the line be drawn? When will people be able to express themselves as themselves without being censored by political correctness? When will the people of the world just lighten the hell up and leave each other alone?

Geez!