Monday, December 2, 2013

The Working Class

Paul Walker's death got me thinking about something important, something deep, something bigger than us all. As you may have guessed, it got me thinking a lot about hot people. Paul Walker was, indeed, a member of the hot people tribe. He left way too soon. I did not even get a chance to fuck him for the first and last time...
I was forever robbed of that passionate, tender love making. That is a burden I must bear for the rest of my waking life.

Rest in Peace Paul Walker, but this brings me to my main order of business. This brings me to this idea of "hotness." What exactly it is, what exactly it means and what exactly the ramifications of it are. We live in a world that values hot people above all else. Who cares if you are smart? Who cares if you are kind? And who the FUCK cares if you have been to space? The answer is: absofuckinglutely nobody. Unless you are in the boner making business you are virtually useless.
I have noticed something very interesting that is very close to me, something that is something that is very near and dear to my heart. I am talking about the struggle of the average looking biddy. I consider myself a slightly below average looking biddy, (and on the rare occasion when I choose to brush my hair, I'd say I'm an average biddy) and let me tell you, it ain't all sunshine and rainbows. Let me put it to you in words that you may understand. I like to compare it to economics. For the purposes of simplifying this complex, ground-breaking idea, let's just say that society is broken up into three classes. You have your upper-class, aka, your rich, privileged motherfuckers. You have your middle class (commonly and rightfully referred to as the working class) and then you have your lower class bitches. You know, poor people.
Now, our society obviously values wealth and those that are rich get whatever they damn well please. The rich stay richer and all of us make sure of that. Capitalism, bitches. Then, there's the lower class. Although they are in an unfortunate economic place, many do pity them. That pity (or what our society likes to call "charity") is seen in programs such as welfare or food stamps. It is basically the reason why rich people are able to sleep at night in their comfortable beds while homeless people sleep in the cold, on a park bench. Rich twats clear their conscience by throwing them some pity dollars and perhaps a loaf of bread for Thanksgiving. However, the working class? The working class does not even get that pity party. They get jack shit.
Yeah, that's right. They are like a hamster on a wheel. Just working and working and seeing little to no profit. This is exactly like the hotness hierarchy. The hot biddies get to bang all the dudes they want because, well, they are hot. The ratchet biddies, on the other hand, at least get the pleasure of a couple of pity fucks once in a while. No one pities the average to below average looking biddy. We are invisible. We practically do not exist.
In bars, no guys even look our way. Who needs a fucking invisibility cloak when you have small boobs and are as bland as piece of fucking wonder bread? To get any sort of action we need to do serious work. We need to make ourselves seem ten times more interesting than we really are ("Yeah, I, like, only listen to, like, underground music. I doubt you've heard of it.") We need to make ourselves seem ten times less crazy than we actually are ("No, I've never mailed a decapitated squirrel to my ex-boyfriend. That would be crazy.") And, above all else, we need to wear thirty times more make-up than everyone else ("Yeah, I just put a little mascara on. I like to keep things natural.")
 The truth of the matter is, no one will ever hear the average looking biddy's story because no one gives two fucks. Our story is not sad enough or happy enough to be heard. We will go on living in the shadows of biddies who are either more fortunate or less fortunate than us. *Sigh* I just hope one day that we too will be shown some pity.

If you feel bad for me: text/call/Facebook OR worse comes to worst, hit me up on my Myspace (I'm under the username: Iamnotokay).


P.S. The same hierarchy applies to diddies (male biddies). I did not forget you poor, somewhat-fortunate souls.

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