Holey Socks

No I'm not talking about socks blessed by the Pope. I'm talking about socks that have holes in them. What's ridiculous is that once a sock has a hole in it, you should just throw them out or mend them. But who the fuck knows how to mend a sock anymore. That was an art lost with the seamstresses of our past and with homemakers that are no longer. In fact, i don't know if I ever saw my mom mend a sock when I was a child. Either way, they piss me off. Because I can't bring myself to throw them out. At least not until every year on Christmas. Because my mom always adds socks and underwear into my assortment of gifts. Socks are aggravating though. They serve the purpose of providing cushioning and comfort and protection between your foot and the shoe. However, without fail they always end up with holes where your big toe is. So, instead of throwing out holey socks, I rotate them between feet.

When I've worn a sock through the big toe area, then it gains a new spot on the other foot where the hole is down near my pinky toe and the area with fabric is back near the big toe. The problem with this means of recycling socks is that when you wear a sock long enough on one foot the fabric becomes formed to that foot's shape. So the holey part of the sock has extra fabric toward the pinky toe that gets bunched up at the end of the shoe. It pisses me off. Now you would say, "Seriously? If it pisses you off that much...just throw them out and buy new ones. But for some reason I never do that. Instead of just going to Target and purchasing myself new socks, I live in frustration with this issue.

Frankly, I don't think I like socks at all. I don't think I've ever put socks on and thought, "Wow, now that's a good feeling". Sandals are the way to go. The feeling of wearing some comfortable sandals in summertime where the air can naturally aerate my feet. Now that's good stuff. To hell with confining my feet to socks and shoes. That's bullshit. I'd be happy as hell if I could wear a button down dress shirt, a tie, black dress pants and flip flops. But alas, business attire requires all of the preceding plus socks and minus flip flops. My loss.

Non Door Holders

I feel as if it's the simplest gesture one can extend to show courtesy and consideration. It requires nothing of the other person, less than nothing in fact. However, there are still individuals out there that will proceed to enter a doorway, see that someone is behind them and about to enter into that same doorway, and these delinquents let their fingers graze the edge of the door frame and slip out of their grasp, only to have the door abruptly slam in the approaching individual's face. As if to say, "I saw you coming and I don't give a fuck. Go to Hell!".

Or at least that's how I see it. Every time that it happens, I want to flip out. Inside of me a rage that is really quite unparalleled begins to rise and it requires me to settle myself in some way in order to not grab them by the shoulder and say "Who The Hell Do You Think You Are?". Perhaps it's the history with which I've been accustomed to the practice and with common courtesy that makes holding doors for others ever so simple to me. I can recall being a child of no more than seven or eight and going to the mall with my grandmother and my aunt, and probably even younger than that they had taught me that it was polite to hold the door for women of any age and to let them enter before I did. They also told me that it was decent and kind to do so for anyone and that the gesture would be appreciated and seen with respect. Other gestures were explained to me such as, pulling out a chair for a lady, covering my mouth when I coughed, keeping indecent conversation private rather than speaking loudly about such matters in public, as well as excusing one's self when leaving a group of individuals at a table.

What I think I dislike more than anything else is that this lack of holding doors is an indication of where the nature of people is headed. People are so enthralled with themselves and the selfish nature of being consumed with self preservation and centerdness. My life, my job, my things, my car, my house, my problems, my direction, my distractions...always Me, Me, Me...so much so that I don't give a Fuck about You, You, You! And that's why this world we live in has become so caught up in the problems it has; money laundering schemes, the destruction of the environment, bribes and buyouts, homicides, rapes, slandering, corporate greed and corruption and on and on and on. I think it starts with a mentality of looking out for Number 1, always and forever. Taking a step back to a time when our Grandmother's taught us the simplistic nature of considering others and simply put,manners ....may right the track just a little. God help the assholes that can't grasp that concept, Non Door Holders!

Pantyhose

Alright so, Pantyhose. Pantyhose? Really? I've never been a fan. What Jeff Doesn't Like are pantyhose. I really want to be able to go into a long rant about why I don't like them but I don't even know if I can. I think it's the lack of sexuality that they have about them. I mean, bras? Yeah! Panties? Check! A corset or teddy? Yeah, without a doubt they have sex appeal. But in all reality, it's what's underneath that's enticing. The lingerie is wrapping paper. It's the garnish for a dish that's been prepared so nicely and it adds style. These garments make you say, yeah I know this is going to be great but let me just savor this for a moment or two.

Pantyhose? No, not so much. Initially, lets start off with the presentation for purchase. They come in a freaking box or a sleeve of cardboard that much resembles the type of container most musical cd singles or cheap e.p. albums are cased in. They're set on shelves in Macy's or J.C. Penny's like old novels in an antique book store, collecting dust. All other womens under garments are affixed to hangers and on fake mahogony display tables in places like Victoria's Secret and Fredericks of Holloywood, as well as those department stores. They just look more appealing to the purchaser, to the confident woman or the interested male looking to buy his lady something he'll find her attractive in.

Secondly, pantyhose are deceiving. The reality is that they take away the imperfections in a woman's legs. They exist as a sort of fuzzy distraction the way a few too many drinks and very dim lighting can at a bar. Through this type of perception, you believe that what you've found is a keeper, until the sun comes out the next morning and your buzz wears off. All of a sudden you paid for what you got and what you got wasn't what you thought you paid for. That metaphor might be a bit excessive, but really pantyhose cover up the lack of tone and definition in the calf area, the possibility that maybe she didn't shave her legs, and depending upon the age of the woman, spiderveins. Give me the option at least, in broad daylight, of deciding what's going on without any deception.

Next, there's too much webbing. Webbing on the feet and webbing where it counts. I didn't even try to find a picture there, but you get the idea. I'll put it this way without getting into too much detail regarding webbing. Something wigs me out about the webbed feet thing, and I guess they created a pair of pantyhose that don't have webbed feet but for opened toed shoes, still retarded though. Anyway, for the men reading this...I don't know if you've ever slept with women who wear pantyhose, and I don't mean, like your wife or girlfriend, but just someone. Either way, women don't get them on very easily and it's not as easy to get them off either. There are already too many barriers in the first place. A web of nylon is one more uneccesary obstacle.

I guess I just feel that only women who are married or women who are over 50 should wear pantyhose. There are a lot of leg guys out there, and even if one isn't particularly a leg guy, it's kind of hard not to appreciate that feature on a woman. Regardless of what the occasion is and what the attire a woman chooses to wear may be, beautifully toned, shaved, smooth legs are more attractive than some semi-transparent fabric. Go get the Jergens!

Misty Rain

Alright, so weather is weather. Que Sera, sera. Whatever will be will be. And to be honest, I like the rain. I like thunder storms and lightning and big heavy rains where the sky and the sun is blotted out by compete darkness. There's sort of a "The Day After Tomorrow" type feel to those type of storms that leave an impending feel of disaster and destruction that, for whatever reason, I enjoy. But this blog isn't about what I like. Someone Else has that covered. It's about what I don't like.

And what I don't like is misty rain. Like when it's still sunny out and there's that light, little kid sprinkler, kind of rain that feels like little pin pricks all over your face. It's got the sort of annoying quality that walking through a spider web, spider web, which I also don't like, has. That kind of rain isn't the type of precipitation that requires an umbrella. It doesn't even really require a jacket. It just requires that wherever your walking to, that you create that squinty eye, uncomfortable look of despair on your face and muster through it. My clothing ends up damp but not entirely wet unless I've been out in it for a good duration of time.

And it's in situations such as this misty rain dilemma that I'm speaking about that there's really no relief. I read the newspaper, but I never have one to shield my skin when I need it. There's no face mask that would keep this forcible damp onslaught off of me. So in turn, what I think I really don't like is the sense of helplessness. There's nothing I can do about it, except go indoors. But if going indoors was an option than I wouldn't be pissed off about walking in this aerated liquid mess. So just like a lot of the things that I don't like, I live with it and press on because there's not a God Damn thing I can do about it.