What Really Irritates Me in Men, Women and Poodles, and Other Sartorial Considerations Very Late at Night - Part 4

Thank you, Cécile, for putting me back in the saddle! It has been a long while since I last posted in this section, and now my notebooks are full to the brim. High time I relieved them of their atrabilious content.

Ladies and Gentlemen and Poodles, here comes...

What Really Irritates Me in Men, Women and Poodles, and Other Sartorial Considerations Very Late at Night - Part 4

Aaaaah poodle, how do I love thee? I love thee not, indeed, but I love thee anyhoo for pawing me the material to my cantankerousness! How have I missed thee? I have missed thee not, of course.

The ostentatious joie de vivre these quadrupeds effortlessly display when they greet anyone borders on the indecent. Wait, it IS indecent. Why do they frolic about as if they'd found a pot of gold? I know every dog does that, but not to the extent poodles do, and not with a certain relish at their own excitement which make their eye lustre...I guess the absence of survival instinct must be accounted for. On a different topic, I heard recently that the smaller the breed, the longer they live...dear Lord, protect us from tininess.

A good friend of mine directed me to a silly page on the Net (http://www.funfacts.com.au/cachi-the-killer-poodle/4/) The story has it that a poodle named Cachi fell from the 13^th floor onto a woman's head, unexpectedly killing her in the process. A passer-by was hit by a bus whilst beholding the stunning scene, and all this foofaraw caused a man to have a heart attack. This...article, for lack of a better word, is highly dubious and probably means to poke fun at an unfortunate series of events. Made me raise an eyebrow, I must admit. Because I believe that the said poodle must very well have been trying to greet the woman below with a well-deserved hug, and must have greatly misjudged the distance. I don't think this is beyond their capacity. Doesn't say if the dog survived, though. Tough little blighters, might have, for all I know.

It does seem I can't get enough of poodles, doesn't it? Well, believe it or not, I still haven't exhausted what seems to be an antediluvian hostility against them. But let's move onto other things which nark me to no end, for if I don't do it here and now, it'll start growing on me...and I'll turn into my great-grandma, which will be way more unfortunate than Cachi hurtling down on someone's head.

I recently joined a dating website. That wouldn't be such a great deal if this hadn't sparked a helluva lot of concerns. For instance, why on earth must fifty to sixty percent of all the pictures in there show a woman, age ranging from 18 to 50+ with

• rounded or pouted lips
• her index and middle finger held in a V shape near said mouth
• rounded, glittery eyes
• heavy make-up
• tilted head
• a blinding flash?

There should be a limited number of selfies allowed. I know that the first selfie to be shot was achieved by a certain Robert Cornelius back in 1839 (more accurately a daguerreotype), but man, why would you lovingly debase yourself in such a fashion? I know ridiculousness never killed anyone, and that which doesn't kill you makes you stronger, but ridiculousness DOES NOT MAKE YOU STRONGER AND NEVER WILL. This syllogism is a complete fallacy.

I understand the selfie-in-the-mirror trick though, for obvious, pragmatic purposes. But please, PLEASE, do pay attention to what's in the background! We don't want to see knickers scattered all over the place (actually we do), dildos (true story), a kitchen sink full to the brim with dirty dishes (another true story) or the general mess you live in. Which could easily make me rant against pictures of men sporting a dubiously immaculate whitish tank top over a dubious/sculpted/tattooed build, but as I haven't seen them myself, I'll deal with them hollow men later.

Something else which peeves the bejesus out of me is when I look up at the profile of a woman and it says...nothing. Just plain as day : Such-and-such – I can't discuss pseudonyms...I consider this way below the belt because they range from the purely pathetic to the downright ludicrous and/or ridiculous, though inventiveness ought to be lauded – well, Such-and-such hasn't filled in her profile yet. She's been on this site for six months, and she hasn't had time to write a single word? You kidding me? Too busy trying to take the right selfie? Duh. Sometimes a woman visits your profile, “likes” it, and you visit hers, as common courtesy wills it: no picture, no personal description, no desiderata. How do you want us to react to this buffet? How should we judge your “likeability”? What in this vast ocean of nothingness would trigger us to “like” your profile and make us think we would match?

Last diatribe and then I'm out for the day. However we lonely men appreciate the efforts some of you lonely women put into self-portraying your pushed-up cleavage, your long, spotlessly-shaved legs, your fluttering eyelashes and your smouldering look...we don't quite understand why you take the pains to specify in your description that you really DON'T want us to choose you because of your looks or to think you're superficial. And sunglasses, when worn, have that irking tendency to cover a part of the visage I tend to be interested in – but that is the sunglasses' fault, not yours, right?

See you soon for another piece of rambling harangue!

*keeps mumbling*