A is for Anti-Political Correctness

Here at Tipping the Axis, Judy and I have decided to shake it up even more by doing the A-Z challenge for the month of April. Each topic we cover will be a humorous look at life's little quirks and some of the big ones we think are just too good to pass up. Enjoy.

And now, without further ado,  Anti-Political Correctness...

It has occured to me that I get strange looks from people. Not the oh, what an unfortunate face kind of look, but a oh my gosh, did she actually just say that? kind of look. And truthfully, it is irksome. See, I have no problem speaking my mind. And I think the rest of the world needs to follow suit. It sickens me to think that one must remain so guarded about what they say and to whom in case someone were to take offense. And now censorship is running rampant. We live in a world that is currently affording its occupants more freedom than has ever existed, so why in hecuba's name do we feel like we have to censor just about everything that comes into our heads lest some highstrung ninny get on their high horse and sue our misunderstood behinds?

When did it cease to be okay to tell a person that their cellulite was so disgustingly visible and vomit worthy? Why not tell the poor sod and save the rest of us unassuming citizens from being scarred for life and cursed with the image that will inevitably be burned into our skulls?

Why do we say that a child has an interesting personality or is incredibly exuberant instead of plainly saying that they're a little s**t and clearly one of the most bothersome, undisciplined nuisances to possibly walk the earth?

Well, I am going to ham it up in my position as a woman that is totally against the current social fashion. Germaine Greer and co. did not burn perfectly good bras and embarass all of womankind for nought. I will speak my mind.

So, if your child runs around like a squirell on crack. If you are portly and constantly eating cheesecake. If your short shorts are so short that I can see your innards. If your cat piddles on my back steps. If you are 50 but dress like a 20 year old in heat. If you are a tree hugging environmentalist. If you drive a prius. If you wear ugg boots beyond the corner shop or if your fat arse knocks into me one more time at the shopping centre, I will not smile and nod my head with empathy in my eyes. I will not say 'it's fine. really' in a polite and soothing voice. I will judge you. I will not accept your paltry excuse for jumping the queue. I will lay into your rude but oh-so-politically-correct self and give you what for. And I will make no apologies.

 

So join me, restless plebians. Allow the sheep to remain helpless sheep. Allow the naysayers to be polite and graceful. But join me. Revolt with me. Tell the neighbour you'd rather not see them walking around naked with their saggy boobs, and if they could close the curtains it'd be much appreciated. Join the dark side and free your censored mind and maybe, just maybe, the world will right itself and the participation medal for losers will make its way to its rightful place. The trash.

Until next time, Jessenia xx