Keeping up with Jones

Weight: not tellin'! Cigarettes: 0 (well, I don't smoke anyway) Calories: 5 million (v. bad, Nurse will kill me) Mood: Cantankerous

The Squid, re christened, The Weasel, is wearing a sleeveless pink top, tight pocketless stonewashed jeans and that silly wool scarf. He minces about the campus like he's got a quarter squeezed between his buttocks and he pronounces his "esses" with care. He's so camp, he wouldn't even lisp.

There are people put on this earth with the sole purpose of annoying you, and it's not always to do with what they do to you but how they make you feel. Weasel has a reputation for being a self-absorbed, freeloading little git (he went over to the German desk to steal some piece of cake NOT destined to him and was actually first to get some even though he does not work on their team).

But aside from all this, Weasel just reminds me horribly of all the simpering twits I went to school with - girls who talked of nothing but guys, clothes and gossip. I loathe teenage girls and he's as close to Katie-fucking-Holmes-in-Dawson's-Creek as you can possibly get in a short, bald, Vietnamese poof.

Before you all scream homophobia, do note that he gives the gay community a bad name. There are gay men out there, courageous, handsome, loving and faithful to their partners who do not relate to the bitchy queens that everyone associates with gay men. I find that more offensive. A very close friend of mine, a computer engineer, used to bemoan the gay parades in Montreal precisely because he did not want to be lumped in with the same crowd in screaming fuchsia and wigs.

I'm tired of drag queens, the joke's getting old and I don't care if they were brave and courageous enough to come out. Everyone has challenges in life. No one should be handed special awards for being the World's Most Annoying Queer.

And that's another thing! I want to reclaim our language back! Queer is a synonym for strange... and gay means happy and a faggot is a burnt bit of wood or a cigarette (in the UK). Using these terms as euphemisms for male homosexuals makes us look positively Victorian. Tell it like it is. That goes for everything else. I am fat NOT "rubenesque". He's a transsexual not "she". He's a janitor NOT a sanitation engineer.

I am becoming a cantankerous old bint, I am sure, but I am just so tired of all the wishy-washy, post-PC rhetoric and mentality. I don't think poverty will ever become history (not unless decadence and richesse also become history at the same time).

I don't think throwing paint at someone's fur coat, or picketing in front car manufacturers or pandering to certain members of "marginalised" minorities, regardless of how rude, selfish or stupid they may be, simply as token compensation for misplaced guilt.

Oh yes, I am tired of guilt. I'm born and raised Roman Catholic, I've had guilt served as a side dish to every meal and it sucks.