Growing up, I was told not to cry; it was a sign of weakness.
Real men didn’t cry.
When my Little League team lost the game which would have sent us to Williamsport, PA and the Little League World Series, I cried.
But not in front of anyone. I didn’t want to be accused of weakness or of being a crybabay pussy. I waited until I was alone to let out the frustration exacerbated by my absolute hatred of losing. Not the lust for winning all the time, no. But if I was in a three-way race, I’d better AT LEAST finish second.
I have never cried in front of my big brother.
Never will.
Crying is a very cool emotion (you know I am a big emotions guy), and a good cry can be both exhilarating and cathartic. I love movies that elicit tears, and reasons why I will still watch the same sad movie over and over again, always crying as if it were the first time I viewed it.
Growing up, I was exposed to a lot of nationalism and patriotic movies were a staple.
Laughing until you cry, that’s got to be the best.
Fun tears.
It’s like someone trying to sell you on Taylor Swift when you just don’t see it:
“She’s beautiful.”
No, she’s not. She is a good-looking woman.
“She has a great body.”
No, she doesn’t. Where do I start?
Skinny legs.
Her hair is just OK, nothing to write home about.
No booty. If ever someone was a candidate for a Brazil Butt Lift…
“She has billions of followers and will make billions more dollars before she is through.”
On second glance, I guess she’s not that bad-looking.
Karen just called me a pig (again).
I wonder who is crying for the latest murder by cops in St. Louis? Stun-gunned a man TWICE who is now no longer a member of the living.
I am glad to see criminals involved in the Jan. 6th riot getting appropriate sentences for their stupidity. I guess those selfies of you dumbasses defacing our U.S. Capitol and sitting in Nancy’s chair did not serve you well in the end, did it? And what about your buddy Trump? Did he post your bail to get you out?
Thought so.
I’ll tell you who is not crying.
Valery Zaluzhny. Ukrainian General “No one Will Stop Me” Velery Zaluzhny.
My kind of military leader. He doesn’t mince words; heill let you know directly that in the war, his mission is to “kill the enemy.”
So refreshing to hear.
He doesn’t want to waste his time and efforts at anything else but destroying his adversaries.
It looks like the natives are getting restless. The internal temperature around the evil little bald guy is rising. It is my prediction this war will be OVER by next year at this time.
Write it down.
So NBA legend Charles comes out railing against exclusion and touting LGBTQ+ rights, something he has done ever since he was pulled over in the north Phoenix suburb of Scottsdale, naked from the waist down engaged in who-knows-what with a transgender person.
I knew it all along.
When, completely out of the blue, Madonna develops an undisclosed illness as her world tour is starting, it can only mean one thing…low or no ticket sales.
Let’s face it.
Madonna never had much of a voice to begin with. Add forty more years and it hasn’t improved one iota.
White girl trying to dance.
Her body is totally white bread.
Speaking of crying, I watched the Women’s Singles Title at Wimbledon this morning. After a short and not-so-sweet battle, Ons Jabeur gave way to unranked Marketa Vondrousova in a very ho-hum one hour and twenty minutes. There was some good, not great, tennis being played, and Vondrousova won going away,
After the match, an ezhausted and defeated Jabeur broke with form and cried herself silly.
The crowd loved it.
Stay well.
