Face it - funny is as funny does.

Laugh... but not ironically.
Damn you Hipster scum.

I'm not sure if you know this or not, but being funny is a lot harder than it seems. That's a weird thing to hear from me, I know. “But Jason,” you say with out a trace of sarcasm, “you make it look so effortless. You're so funny, it's almost like you've got so much funny inside of you that the stuff is leaking out of your pores.”

Don't look at me like that. That's totally how you sound.

Truth be told, being funny is not something that just happens. It requires hard work to develop something funny, to learn how to time what you say or write, and how to apply your own voice to what you're saying.

Just like any other skill, you have to practice at it. 

Shopping trolleys: They have a home to go to.

A sad and frustrating sight.
The exiled trolley.

Esteemed Ranting Associate Tamara Hancock promised a friend that she would rant a little about the improper abandonment of shopping carts in parking lots.

Gay? Unmarried? Here's a thought on why.

Should be standard issue for
all politicians in wintery climes.
"Do you want to continue being a bigot?
Or do you want to stay dry?"

This is just a hypothesis...

There is a movement in America right now to restrict the rights a portion of the citizenry to choose who they are allowed to marry. Just so happens these people are homosexual. And those that oppose the idea of two consenting adults being wed to one another are using an ancient storybook to make laws that forbid this.

It's basically impossible to have an argument about how their religion is categorically wrong without upsetting a few folks and I don't want to upset anybody (at least not yet) by informing them of how incredibly stupid they are. I'll save that for another day, maybe.  

Concert goers - throw down your phones.

I love a concert.

Love them.

I've been lucky enough to see several, with artists varying from old rockers to jazz guitarists to some of the best (or at least most popular) Dj's in the world today.

International Women's Day - another year on.

If you are after the regular frivolity of posts that usually grace the frowning face of Indignant Rant - this isn't one of them.

Below is a post from one of my other blogs. Made one year ago (minus one day) in response to the sheer onslaught of social media madness that was at times supportive, at others nothing at all short of offensive when joining the chorus for International Women's Day.

This post is simply a reminder that waving our arms about is fine, but another year has passed and I fear that 'stuff' is not very different.

An Open Letter to Shoppers.

People - It's two thousand and goddamn twelve. As in, fifteen hundred years ago some dudes decided to start counting the years in relation to the existence of some Jewish guy that had been dead for five hundred years. And before said dude, there were about ten thousand years before that in which human beings stopped being a bunch of cave dwelling apes and started to build civilizations.

My point? 

Humans and their creations have been around for a while, and in those interminable centuries mankind has learned to do a few things:

Ass cracks - they are a blight. And hurt my eyes.

Oh, that the ass crack should be so elegant and well formed

as this. But it's NOT.   People... Just say "no" to crack-age.

I’m tired of looking at teenage ass cracks and underwear.

Tired. So damn tired.

Now that my oldest spawn has entered high school, it seems I find myself staring at this shit more than usual. 

There was a time that I would only have to deal with this 'problem' a handful of times a year. Generally on my rare visits to the cradle of the trend -  The shopping mall.

Butter is Opt-Out.

How hard can it be? Really?

A disturbing trend has risen since the Chief Ranter left his Melbourne based locale for the sandy land…. 

I have experienced what the title of this rant alludes to several times now, across several venues and I now wince in reflection of same.

It is a situation that is irritating beyond belief and turns the grinning joy of what should be the happiest way to start the day into a dark cloud covered countenance... with a side order of 'grimace of disappointment'.