So, am I evil?

Well, Derrrr.... For obvs I am, you've all known me for years and you all know that I am.

But I noticed something yesterday that made me think that I might be evil in a totally new (to me) previously undiscovered way... Something I'd never previously considered as even capable of being the reason that I'd have been tarred and feathered and thrown out of the badly maintained Wacky Warehouse that I like to call 'life'.

Pretty much every day nowadays is some kind of 'Day' - I don't mean Thursday or Tuesday (Although those are most definitely both days) I mean things like these, that the UN/UNESCO ask us to casually observe:

11th. Feb - International Day of Women & Girls in Science
23rd. March - International Meteorological Day
24th. March - International Tuberculosis Day (Which can be quite noisy if the 23rd. was damp and foggy)

It continues like this all the way through the year with us having

15th. Oct - World Handwashing Day, followed by
16th. Oct - Global Food Day

And ending up with:

20th. December - International Human Solidarity Day

Then you've got 'Days' specific to your particular Country or Deity of choice, There's Saints days and other High days - Days made up by retailers just to sell stock - Appropriated Pagan days - Yearly (or bi-yearly or quad yearly) sporting events that have their own 'Day'

Not to mention things that have their own 'Week' Like 'Shark Week' for instance... And... Erm... Probably others too.

But, the one I'm talking about in this instance is a global holiday that bounces around the calendar like a frog in a machine used for polishing old ball-bearings...

MOTHER'S DAY

It's celebrated all around the world, on the Second Sunday in February, or the 3rd, 8th, 21st or 25th of March, the 4th Sunday in Lent (In the UK), the 7th of April, 8th, 10th, 15th, 19th, 26th, 30th, or the 1st, 2nd or Last Sunday of May, 1st of June, 2nd Sunday of June, 1st. Monday of July, 12th & 15th August, 2nd Monday or 3rd. Sunday of October, 14th. October, 3rd. or 16th. November, and the 8th & 22nd of December...

There are also a couple of countries that celebrate it on non-Gregorian dates using their own wibbly-wobbly date system that I'm not willing to explain. I mean, the last paragraph kind of got away from me a little - And I'll wager a £5 note against a bag of freshly collected donkey eyelids that you skipped a lot of those dates, and who'd blame you? We've all got better things to do haven't we?

But let's get back to me, and how I'm evil and so full of wrongissitude that all my toes are due to pop off my feet and into the stratosphere at any given moment.

Here are some facts that you probably already know if you've read the blog for more than a couple of decades...

• I have been happily married to the long-suffering Mrs. Dandy for almost twenty years (Yes, I'm old, I know, I've gotten over it and so should you.)
• We have two children together. Lovely, wonderful children who never give us a moment's trouble 
• My Mother, whom I may have mentioned a couple of times before whilst she was both dead and alive... Is currently dead... But this hasn't stopped her being quite a vocal part of our lives.

So, on Monday (Which happened to be the day after the 4th Sunday of Lent) - I was greeted by several, if not many, posts from people who I previously considered friends - Waxing lyrical about gifts that they had bought their WIVES for MOTHER'S Day...

Do you see my issue? My Wife is Not My Mother (Because it would make things really awkward when I did that thing she likes with the egg-whisk) and My Mother is dead, which if nothing else makes it difficult for her to open cards and things that I'd bought hastily from the petrol station and wrapped in second-hand paper that I'd saved from Christmas.

So I didn't buy my WIFE a present... You see where I'm going with this don't you? - I'm going to neither confirm nor deny that I financially assisted in the purchase of the presents/cards that one or more of my Children bought for THEIR MOTHER (MY WIFE)

When I told these fairweather friends that I have never bought anyone other than MY MOTHER a MOTHER'S DAY present, well... I can only imagine that there was a quite literal intake of breath on their part. They expressed their shock via the medium of the strongly worded reply to my admission and a couple of them wondered how I ever got allowed to use an egg-whisk in the first place with a stingy attitude like that.

But, My Faithful Bloggerites (remind me never to use that word again) what do you think? I'm interested in answers from all people in all situations, Mothers, Fathers, Kids, Male, Female, Non-CIS, CIS, NCIS, SVU, Super-Intelligent Shades of the colour Blue.

What did you do?

And much more importantly, What should I do next year? (Especially if I want to employ another piece of kitchen equipment for a use for which it wasn't originally designed?)

And to carry on the theme... Here's a nice picture about love and stuff... There's a rock shaped like a heart and everything.

Toodles! - Don't forget to leave your opinion in the space provide below...

Cook you a steak and do what job?

You know what really grinds my gears? Well, initially it's people who use the phrase "You know what really grinds my gears?" and don't expect me to think of them as Peter Griffin from that moment on. But let's leave that to one side for the time being...

Man-Babies are one things that grind my gears - Now this would be such an easy thing to do the day after International Women's Day... And obviously, that's why I'm doing it. (Did you know, IWD was started back in 1909 by the Socialist Party of America - One wonders if it would be as big a global celebration if it was started by the National Socialist Party of Germany in the late 1930s - But I digress)

Wait, where were we?

Ah yes, Man-Babies.  You know what a man-baby is don't you? It's a man, who acts, out of his own volition, like a whining opinionated baby - Which is pretty much all men (Am I Rite Ladies? High-five! - Wooo! - Don't leave me hanging... OK [Looks at palm of my hand][sees unusually crusty peeling stain][understands completely]) 

Now I don't mean the men who employ the paid services of professional ladies who look after them whilst they toddle around wearing nappies and rattling their... Um... 'rattles' in people's faces and wearing comfortable bootees and happily having their nappies changed and suchlike.  Each to their own I say where sexual perversion's concerned - Especially in society's upper echelons, what-what?

And I don't mean card-carrying misogynists - They're a whole different breed entirely and we've talked about them before.

I mean the ones who genuinely believe that the only important things are things that apply directly to them and other men, who they claim some kind of shaky brotherhood with - like the urgent, Gods-given need for Government-sponsored erectile dysfunction medicine and free at the point of delivery hair replacement therapy, I mean the lightbulb shaped headed ones wearing last season's football shirts who bleated all over social media yesterday "When's International Men's Day?" - The same ones who went oddly quiet when I (and several other people - I'm not claiming any singular Godhood here) replied, "It's the 19th November you massive Twonk, the day before Universal Children's Day. If you're going to cry like a bitch about some perceived slight against your gender, at least have the common decency to get your facts straight."

And don't think I'm some kind of white-knight feminist defender myself either. I'm really not... If you're female and wearing a low-cut top (for whatever reason) I will look at your cleavage and/or boobs - You can check with Mrs Dandy - we can't go anywhere without her tutting, shaking her head and having to repeat herself at least a dozen times. I won't stand in front of you with my coat open shielding you from the ogling stares of other neanderthal men. I'm a firm believer that boobs are great, and if you want to have a proportion of yours on show - You should feel completely free to do so - But you're gonna get looks from the weak willed.

But what really gets me, specifically, every bloody year hasn't really even started yet.  Next week, Facebook & Twitter will be full of it.  On Monday it'll be wall-to-wall schoolboy sniggering for the preamble. On Tuesday it'll be "when I get home tonight from a hard day at the coalface/office/clinic, guess what I'm getting?!?!!?'

You've worked it out right?

March 14th? a month after Valentines Day?

Well, it's another one of those gender specific made-up strictly for profit holidays. Whereas Valentine's Day is a holiday for women, with non-generic petrol station flowers, high cocoa content chocolates, and things wrapped in red and pink reflective paper. Steak and a Blowjob Day (for it is that of which I am speaking) is for men... because men like red meat and getting their dicks wet whilst their eyes roll back into their heads (and if that doesn't happen, someone's doing something wrong).

I don't get why you need to announce it to your 63 Facebook friends (half of which are probably friends with your significant other too who will laugh when she post "Not bloody likely Sunshine, you can spend 30 seconds on Pornhub once the kids have gone to bed like you do every Saturday night instead of playing FIFA.") 

And it's so boringly contrived and binary - I mean, I love chocolate - And Mrs Dandy gets excited by the thought of a decent mouthful of steak (well, she did before she decide to go pescatarian - feel free to insert your own jokes there.) 

But men... (Lower-case used intentionally) Just like there's no specific date for you to tell your partner that you love them or to buy them flowers, as long as you're prepared for every one of her female friends to ask her what you've done. And there's no date when it's more or less right to buy decent chocolate for your partner or even yourself. There's no specific day when you can't buy and cook a nice, thick steak, or go to a nice restaurant and order steak if you you don't 'do' washing up, because you're too manly. And, believe it or not if you have a decent cleanliness routine, it's not out of the realms of possibility that a lady that you personally quite like will, without any kind of struggle or Gaffer Tape being involved, put your love-python in where her shouting at you usually comes out of.

Providing you're both equally up for it that is... And that you've eaten quite a lot of pineapple beforehand.  Enjoy.