Sadistic Cruelty In Iraq

WHO DO THESE PEOPLE THINK THEY ARE??????????????
What's wrong with this world that we turn a blind eye to what is going on around us?? What's wrong with the Arab people...why are we refusing to stand up and put a stop to the injustices suffered by us? Why is everyone so cowardly? Why does everyone think they have better things to do than to stand up for themselves? Are we America's punching bag? Are material possessions more important than stopping the harm being done around the world? Evidently so.

Did you watch the news today? I just watched it, I had to come on here straight away because if I don't say something I think I'll explode. If you watched the news then you'll know about the tape that has been released by News of the World. This tape shows the reactions of British troops to a street riot by young teenage boys in Iraq early 2004. They chased the boys away, caught a few of them, dragged them into an army area surrounded by high walls, and proceeded to beat them senseless. Grown men kicking and hitting 12 and 13 year old boys! The cries of the boys can be heard on the tape hundreds of metres away.
That's not all though.... that tape was being filmed by a Corporal in the army. Someone who is supposed to lead the troops, to serve as an example through his actions. He filmed it from the roof of a nearby building. And do you want to know what his reaction to it was? He was delighted. Ecstatic. His voice could be heard shouting into the camera

"YES! YES! OH YES! haha Naughty little boys. Oh don't kill me don't kill me. haha YES! OH YEAH! please please don't hit me! haha not so brave now are you? OH YES! HIT THEM! KICK THEM! HARDER!"

then there was a whole bit edited out, presumably because of the severity of what he was saying. When his voice comes back on, clear as day you can make out the last word of the sentence he had spoken.... "DIE"!!!!!!!! Said with such rage, with such hate, with such menace, and most frighteningly, with such pleasure. If you couldn't see the screen you would think he was watching a porn movie, his reactions certainly sounded like he derived that much pleasure and satisfaction from watching the brutal beating of mere schoolboys.

A war that should never have been waged. A war whose real reasons lie in the desire to systematically rid the world of Arabs, and in the process gain control of all the oil we have. If you choose to fight, fight with dignity and honour.
Taking pleasure in the beating of schoolboys who are merely fighting back against the destruction of their country, their family and the world as they know it...this is not honour. This is sadism.

Disease Of Normality Is Contagious

Something very strange is going on...
There's something not quite right and I'm just not sure what's happened. Something strange has come over me, and I have reason to believe that I should be worried. For some unknown reason, today I seem to be less violently opposed to this job than usual. The seeds of discontentment have indeed been sown and for the past few weeks have been flourishing pleasingly into strong healthy shoots of anger and opposition. But today, today they have withered and unless something is done they are in danger of dying completely. Today, my friends, an eerie sense of calm has descended upon me and I find myself doing my work almost....happily! Where did I go wrong? What within me slipped up and allowed the obvious brain-washing of society to have an effect? My resolve to leave this god-forsaken corporate world is being drowned out...but by what? Something, but what I'm not entirely sure. Perhaps the normality of society is spreading the disease of acceptance of the inevitable to me. The disease of normality somehow got in under my skin yesterday evening, festered overnight and resulted in this horrifying feeling of contentment this morning. I must fight it, but it will be a battle not easily won. A battle of hardships, myself against the world. It must be done though, lest I find myself at the end of this week willingly volunteering to single-handedly come up with a strategy to increase the profits of the evil evil corporation. Somehow, with the way I've been acting this morning, it doesn't seem so improbable anymore!

What I Could Have Been, Had I Only Tried

Tara thinks I should go to New York, live in a dingy flat, work as a waitress, and try to make it as an actress. Of course, she's advising from a purely selfish vantange, as she's admitted she just wants to have a friend who's a struggling actress! haha I think she's right though. Except I'm going to replace New York with London. I'm just going to go for it. For God's sake, I can sit around here moaning about how much I hate this job, and how I don't want to do this for the rest of my life, how I want to act, but what the hell am I doing about it???? Not enough. Not nearly enough. So that's my plan. A year in Dublin, then on to London, do some theatre, and take it from there. I just want to say that I've given it a shot, and not look back when I'm old and wrinkled and think 'Oh, what I could have been had I only tried'.

Petitions And The Avian Flu

I just got word that the petition that was set up to get me back to Cork (see my Got 'Da Cork Blues post) has been signed by 89 people. (before I go on...isn't that so cool?!)
Apparently I said I'd go back when it got to 100.... hmm
Perhaps now I can have a valid excuse to leave work earlier than originally planned! Great!
So how long exactly do I get after the 100th signature before I have to fulfil my oral obligation and head back to Cork?

On another note, my boss is away for a week. I thought I'd get the week off. Wishful thinking apparently because not only do I not have the week off...I'm being put in charge of the legal department. Yes, I know I'm just as shocked as you. But really, considering the department is comprised of a grand total of 2 people, myself included, it would be pretty logical to assume that when my boss decided to go skiing in Switzerland for a week I would get stuck with his work.
Oh Lord! I actually think I feel a touch of the flu coming on... perhaps even of the avian strain. Might be better if I stayed in bed for a while. You know, just for the sake of the company and all.
That should buy me some time...

ee cummings

ee cummings is brilliant, or so i think anyhow. in tribute to him im writing this post without much punctuation and most certainly without any capital letters. have you ever read his work? you should, because my god some of it is beautiful. he's obsessed with rain it seems, or else he just feels that theres something poetic about rain in general. perhaps there is. people call me a poet just because i write poetry, which people happen to think is good and enjoy reading. does that make me a poet? i suppose technically it does, and i'd like to think i do have a poetic flair about me. at least, i think the world would be better if everything and everyone was poetic. but i also believe conversations would be alot more fun if there was singing and dancing involved. not many share my opinion. i think within everyone is a poet. if you can feel, you can be a poet. only when you're emotionally dead would you find it hard to write poetry, and then i assume your senses would be working fine, which would mean you could still write about what you see, hear, feel, taste, smell.
i was talking the other night to a friend of mine about people in general, and how most people find it hard to go to the cinema alone. he asked if i ever go alone. i said yes. he hasn't worked up the courage yet. i'll admit it took a while before i actually did it, but once you break the barrier you realise that people are more caught up in themselves to pay more than a split second thought to the one over there on his own. so we're thinking of going alone together. you know, sit at other ends of the theatre! just for his first time... and just cause it'll be alot more fun that way haha

ive been reading ee cumming all day; ill leave you with a couple of lines from him

"i'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance"

Slavery Under The Name Of Competition

It's nice to give people things to do. Nice to make them feel important. Make them feel that what they're doing really means something in the big scheme of things. As I write I'm looking around at the people surrounding me, slaving to finish work before some randomly placed deadline. Working hard to do something that is made to seem so important. Really believing that what they're doing is necessary. That no one can do the job like they do. Oh, how we have been fooled. There are a million people ready to take our places. A million people willing to believe that what they have to do is important. It's only importance lies in increasing the profits of those very people who are ruining our lives.

An exerpt from one of my poems:

"Oh, foolish fools that we have become
Marching in time to the same old drum
With State and Society providing the beat
Generic beliefs moving our feet
We are no more individual than we are real
Our god is Authority and before it we kneel"

Live Fast, Die Young

If you had the choice, would you live a long happy life and die an "average joe" so to speak, or would you live a short life of extreme ups and downs, but die a legend?

I was thinking about that recently, especially after I watched "Lady Sings The Blues"; a movie about the life of Billie Holiday and starring Diana Ross. Billie was a legend in her own right. What a voice...but what a life. She went through so much crap and intentionally put herself through so much more crap with cocaine. Yet, she will forever be remembered. Immortalised. Legendary. Like James Dean. He died so young, but would he have been the legend he is now had he grown old, lost his hair and gained 100lbs? No he wouldn't. I have a poster of James Dean, looking into the camera, God he was sexy. The cigarettes, the cool rugged handsomness. No wonder so many men smoke. They want to be James Dean, and let's face it, on some men its just so god damn sexy. Luke Perry has that James Dean kind of thing going on too. But he will never be the legend that James is. Is it because he's still around? Still growing old? Marilyn Monroe was amazing, but would she be the giant figure she is now had she not died in such tragic circumstances? Probably not. Sure she would always have been Marilyn Monroe, but with the withering away of her looks and sex appeal would come the trembling of her legendary status. Mystery is what keeps things interesting. That's why 40's and 50's stars are remembered by us much more than the stars of today will be remembered by our children. There's no mystery when you know every private detail of someone's life.

If I could choose, I think I would rather die young but die a legend. To live a life of passion, to live a life doing something you love, to be ALIVE. Life is nothing without passion; whether its passion about your work, passion about someone, passion for a cause. That's the way I want to live, and that's what I would choose.

Nickname Hiccup

I was just sitting here "working" and.... ok perhaps I should clear this up. I am working, honestly. It's just, I feel that in order to raise my productivity to optimal level, it's necessary to regularly take a break and stimulate my mind in ways other than through reading the nitty gritty of contracts. Not to say that that isn't stimulating...to some perhaps. Whatever floats your boat I guess, and well right now my boat has crashed into a glacier resembling a page and a half clause and my boat is sinking slowing and painfully. I'm drowning in a sea of terms and conditions and it's not very pretty. Quite distressing really. So you see, I write not only for pleasure, mine and yours, but to LIVE.

So anyhow, I was sitting here working, and I got to thinking. About a lot of things really... not least of all the fact that perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to start calling my boss "JB". A nickname is cute, but...now this is just a gut feeling here...i think he just may not be that fond of it. I don't know! Just a feeling! Nevertheless, I've decided to perhaps go back to being old-school and calling him Mr. (insert name here). No matter how young he may be, perhaps he'd rather if JB was confined to the basketball courts (assuming its still 1993 or he still plays basketball).

But thing is, it's a big operation this whole name switching thing really. I can't just go back to the original name too quickly! It'll seem like I can't commit to a name-change. Like I never really believed in the nickname in the first place. Like he really was never a "JB" all along. Ego's could be bruised in such a delicate operation. Perhaps calling him JB has made him feel 'cool', 'hip', 'one of the gang'...give me a break here, I'm trying to put myself in his place, which involves the use of his vocabulary! No, it's gotta be gradual...y'know sort of like I'm not even aware that I'm calling him something different. Naturally rolling off my tongue. Like "JB" was just a phase, a passing fad. Like "JB" just matched the cologne he was wearing this week.

So currently, I'm calling him Mr. B... I know, I'm cringing too! But it's gotta be done! The guy thinks I'm mentally challenged I know. Trying to say it casually is not easy. It's quite hard to slip something like "Mr. B" into a conversation about our financial exposure in a certain boring as hell contract. It's too early to intelligently gauge the reaction, but I'll tell you this much, I can't wait for next week when I can go back to calling him Mr. Berti again!

It's Always Nice To Laugh

It's always nice to have a laugh, and right now I'm back to work after an hour of laughing! I met up with Ismail, a friend of mine, for lunch and seriously that guy should be a comedian! I just laugh non-stop when I'm with him. I think it should be made a rule that when you're on your lunch break, you've got to have a laugh. Companies should set up lunch time comedy shows. Think of the boost for morale! A clown popping out from behind the ficus in the corner every now and then to squirt your boss with water...think of it! Genius! Can't believe it's taken this long to think of it...

Seriously though, I love to laugh and more importantly I love to make people laugh. I do run into problems on that latter point though, because I am really bad at telling jokes! Especially jokes that involve a story and a punch line. One liners I'm pretty good at, but most of the time the only time I make people laugh is when I really don't mean to. Or when they're laughing AT me, which to be honest I don't mind because I continuously have to laugh at myself. One person I do know how to make laugh is my sister Dana. God I love to make her laugh. Just to hear her laugh is so great, and I think thats been the way since she was born. I'm a year and a half older than her and from when she was a baby I would do ANYTHING just to make her laugh. Dancing around her crib, making faces. The amount of vile creations I ate when she got older just to get her to laugh. She'd mix up ketchup, tabasco sauce, mayonnaise, sugar, salt, whatever she could get her hands on and bring it to me pretending that it was something normal. I would eat it just to make her laugh. We have an odd sense of humour, and now 21 years later, although I've put the foot down on anything involving eating something she's come up with, I instictively know what's going to make her laugh. Last night she wasn't in that great a mood, but before we got off the phone I had her laughing so hard. It was nice. I think more people should spend time trying to make people happy instead of making them suffer. I know that sometimes when I'm pissed off I intentionally say things to get others pissed off too. Yet I feel so guilty afterwards. Life is too short! Let's laugh while we can. There'll be plenty of things to cry about yet.

On another note, big shout out to Yousef who is on his way to Canada! He's promised to write letters! Actual letters! I know! See you soon hopefully Yousef, we'll miss you!

I Am Only One; But I Am One.

Came across this quote just now. Beautiful isn't it? Let us make the effort to stand up for what we believe in. And let us hope that what we truly believe in is not war, pain, suffering and violence. The so-called "war on terrorism" has no basis in fact. It is a political myth propagated to pave the way for a wholly different agenda. "Terrorism" exists because we have allowed it to exist, because certain governments want it to exist in order to have an excuse to take actions that otherwise would have been unacceptable. Violence without reason is unacceptable. How lucky for some that the world seems to be giving plenty reasons for military violence to be accepted. In April 2001, a report for the US government from the Baker Institue of Public Policy stated that "the US remains a prisoner of its energy dilemma. Iraq remains a destabilising influence to....the flow of oil to international markets from the Middle East." It was recommended that "military intervention" was necessary. In mid-July 2001, Niaz Niak a former Pakistan foreign secretary was told by senior American officials at a meeting in Berlin that "military action against Afghanistan would go ahead by the middle of October". If the real purpose of the "war on terror" was to capture Bin Laden, how has he managed to elude the US so successfully? To say that one man can stay hidden from what is supposed to be the most powerful country in the world with the best intelligence unit, is to say that he is a genius. Perhaps they never really cared about "capturing terrorists" in the first place? We need to open our eyes, and stop believing everything that is fed into our eager minds through the spoon that is the media.

"I am only one, but I am one. I cannot do
everything, but I can do something. And because
I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do the
something that I can do. What I can do, I should do.
And what I should do, by the grace of God,
I will do."
EDWARD EVERETT HALE

What Kitchen Utensil Would You Be?

Lately I've taken to asking people what kitchen utensil they would choose to be if they had to make the choice. You'd be suprised how much you can learn about people through that question! Most importantly whether or not they're fun enough to go along with such an odd question! :)
Someone I asked recently said he'd like to be a coffee perculator! Simply because a good cup of coffee makes the world a better place.
Another said she'd like to be the most beautiful thing in the kitchen. Maybe a delicate bone china tea cup, so that everytime someone picked her up they would admire her.
Someone else immediately said that he'd be a big knife!
I think I'd be a cookie jar. Everyone loves a cookie jar. It's the mystery of never knowing what exactly is inside, and then the complete satisfaction afterwards! Plus they're just so cute!

So what kitchen utensil would you be? ;)

What's Luck Got To Do With It?

A couple of days ago, something happened which really made me think. In the short space of a taxi ride, my entire perspective on my life and the world changed completely. Let me explain. Where I'm living right now, it's common knowledge that you just don't make conversation with taxi drivers. It sounds terrible, but you don't because the majority of the time, they're quite frightening. Sanity isn't really a word you would associate with them, and I suppose that has alot to do with the fact that they work long hours for practically nothing. They've been forced to come to a country where they know no one and communicate in languages most of them have never learnt. As well as that, half the time they have no formal training and whether or not they are in possession of a real drivers license is questionable. Not a particularly safe mode of transport, but you get used to it. Needless to say, you learn to ignore them. God, just saying that makes me realise how horrible that sounds, but it's the truth. They're a burden you learn to bear. Their erratic driving, their bad manners, it's all something you have to put up with; and the easiest way to do that is to get into the car, tell them where you want to go and pay them at the end.

The other day I got into a taxi, told him where I was going, and then proceeded to nearly have a heart attack when he turned around and in perfect english began to speak to me. I mean, perfect english. I ignored him, gave him one word answers, and kept looking out the window because I didnt know what else to do! Never before had I come across a taxi driver in the UAE that had the ability to speak more than a few mandatory english words. Soon enough my curiousity got the better of me, and I wanted, no, needed, to know who this guy was. So I asked him, and I am so glad that I did.

He told me he was from Afghanistan, and the reason that he knew English so well was because he had taken a 6 month course to learn it. He had been at university in Afghanistan studying engineering when troubles started and the Taliban began bombing. In the middle of his first year at university he was forced to leave. The university closed down, and he had no other way to continue his education. When he was 25 he married, and now has 3 sons. He's 33 years old and a couple of years ago he came here to work as a taxi driver, because even if he got office work in Afghanistan, he would be earning no more than 200 dirhams a month. (That's about 50 dollars). At the moment, he's earning 600 dirhams a month (150 dollars). 600 dirhams! 600 dirhams a month for the abuse he has to put up with. I can easily spend 600 dirhams in a few minutes, and there he is earning that for a months hard work. He said it was a horrible job. To be a taxi driver in a country that considers them no better than an animal, when he was initially hoping to become an engineer. God, my heart went out to him. I told him to go to Europe. Why come here, why come to a country that doesn't have a minimum wage for foreigners? Go to Europe, they have minimum wages there. Get refugee status, do something! But he told me he can't get refugee status now because there is now technically an effective government in Afghanistan. He supposedly has nothing to flee from, except perhaps poverty. I gave him some money when I left, but I wish I had given him more.

Do you want to know the crazy thing? When I was leaving he turned to me and wished ME luck in my life. He wished me happiness, a good marriage and luck in whatever I do. ME who has more chances than he could ever dream of. Wished me luck when he's the one who needs luck the most. How cruel is this world. I should be down on my knees thanking God for the opportunities I've been given. I wished him luck, but what good will that do? He's still going to be driving that taxi, earning nothing, and dreaming about the time in the distant future when he'll be able to go back to Afghanistan and see the sons he spoke to me so dearly about. Luck has nothing, and everything, to do with it.

Final Nail In The Coffin

That's it now. One of the final nails in the coffin has been hammered in. The bait was thrown and eagerly consumed by the masses. There is a certain government in this world joyfully rubbing their hands together under their star spangled banner, and saying "I told you so!". For with yesterdays actions in Syria the Arab world has succeeded in ensuring that much of Europe will now turn their backs on them and march towards the West.
The torching of the Danish and Norweigian embassies in Damascus is just what alot of people could have hoped for. The calculated reluctance of the Danish editor to apologise has spurred on what can only now escalate. Perhaps they wanted to see how far they could go before something like this happened. How can people act logically when such an enormous amount of emotion is involved? Emotion that has been simmering beneath the surface over the years, and has finally reached boiling point. Someone once described Arabs as having unparralled strength and conviction when acting alone, but much weakness when acting together. Nothing can be gained from such violence, because there are others who have been quietly and secretly calculating events that would lead to these reactions. In showing our defiance, we are playing right into their hands.
Oh, but we cannot see the wood for the trees.

The Power Within

As hard as it may be sometimes, I still have faith in the goodness of the human race in general. Or maybe I'm just being overly idealistc and naive. It probably would be more accurate to say that I believe in the goodness of most people. There are, as all of you know, some people that are just plain evil. Although, what is evil? Surely those people believe they have valid reasons to do as they do. It's all a matter of perspective really. Good and Evil exist because we allow them to exist if you know what I mean. By saying that something is evil, we are simulatneously defining what is good. To say something is tall means that we are acknowledging that some things are short. I could go on, but I won't because by this time most people will have flicked to another blog!

I believe that we can change the world with our actions. I believe that we can change the world with our thoughts, because our thoughts will influence our actions. I believe that we have no idea as to the sheer vastness of our mind and our abilities. I believe that we have the ability to do more than we could ever dream we could do. I also believe that this fact has been consistently covered over by our media and our governments, because they know what we seem to have not realised yet...that we have immense power within us. True there are some who are content not to question the world; Who are content to accept things as they are presented to us; Who are content to achieve what they have been conditioned into thinking is the only thing that we can strive to achieve in today's world.

There's more to life than money and prestige. We work hard to get these things, but we fail to realise that we have the power to do much more. We have the power to cause huge changes in this world; the power to mould the world into what we want it to be. Perhaps we should choose to blame ourselves for today's problems, instead of trying to shift the blame to whatever race, religion or person we, by our actions, have pinpointed as the scapegoat. Perhaps we want the world to be the way it is. Perhaps we want war, perhaps we want to "live at the height of our abilities" (as someone recently accredited war with making possible). Perhaps we should stop questioning others, and start questioning ourselves. After all, you cannot deny that we have chosen to sit back and not do anything to stop the injustices in our world. To choose to do nothing in the face of injustice, is just as bad as being the cause of the injustice itself.

A Talk With Love

I've been trying to decide whether or not to post more poetry. Today I decided I would. Here's one I wrote about a month ago. I made a conscious effort with this one to change the rhyming sequence to abc abc . By the way, thank you to everyone who commented and emailed me about the last one I put up, and in doing so encouraged me to put more up!

A Talk With Love

Love, I long to count you among my friends
Yet you are oblivious to my charms.
Feigning ignorance of my sighs and smiles
You show no sign of making amends.
Will you never again rest in my arms?
It may be true, yet I shall wait the whiles.

Knock That Corporate Ladder Down

I'm sick and tired of managers who waste my time telling me things I already know and acting like they know everything all of the time! What is it with delegation? Yesterday I was asked to go over a contract. My boss sent it on to me with the email correspondence attached. I am not joking when I tell you that the task had been delegated EIGHT times until it finally reached me, the lowest rung of the ladder, and I got stuck with it. Not only that, but it was so minimal. 30 minute job at the most, although for most of those who delegated it downwards, I wouldn't be suprised if it would have taken them a couple of hours. Seriously, incompetence annoys me, talking for no reason when business has to be done annoys me, and most of all, it annoys me when credit is not received where credit is due. I just finished a huge report for my boss, for which I had to do a crazy amount of research; Crawling the net, trudging through books, and do you know what happened after I sent him the report (which can I add came to the same conclusion that I had initially told him when he first gave me the problem!) ? He sent on the conclusions from it to HIS boss, signing HIS name at the bottom. His boss then no doubt sent those conclusions to his boss like he was the one who did all the work! Crazy isnt it? This corporate ladder is so overrated. And when you've got to sit through 20 minutes of stupid talk "explaining" things that anyone with half a brain would already know, by someone that isnt even your boss but wants to exploit your intelligence for his own gain, you start wishing that someone would just knock that ladder down.

Are We Boycotting the Right Products?

I'm just wondering why the Arab world is so quick to boycott Danish products, and yet has not yet made any serious effort to effectively boycott Israeli goods. Has the so-called state of Israel never offended Islam and Muslims?? I agree with taking a stand for what you believe in, whatever side that may be, however I think that we should question why we find it so easy to stand up to Denmark and so hard to stand up to "Israel". Why not visit www.bigcampaign.org/boycott.html and have a look at the amount of things you use on a daily basis that are linked to the "country" that has been the cause of such death, destruction and irreparable damage.

Paranoia

God the world is paranoid. The world is paranoid, and I get paranoid as a result. When people start thinking that everyone is out to get them, it's only a matter of time before everyone will start thinking that people in general are out to get them. Let me give you an example; When you go to the store, pay for something and get change back...do you check the change expecting there to be too much or too little? There's something to think about, and something to watch out for when you begin to realise that this media-driven, greedy, money-hungry world we live in is beginning to turn us all against each other. Encouraging us all to become so self-obsessed that we fail to see things other than from our own point of view. When the world we live in takes a step back from reality and becomes based entirely on the workings of the ficitional lives that society has created for us, we begin to lose whatever grip we once had on that closely governed ideal of sanity.
Paranoia is the vine that winds tighter the more I struggle to be free.

Working for Pittance

So here I am back at work again, another day another dollar. Or in my case, another day another unknown fraction of a dollar. You'd think I'd have sorted out my salary before I started working wouldn't you? Yes, I realise that would have been the logical thing to do. But as most people who know me also know, logical doesn't always cut it with me. Plus its only temporary and it's all about the experience..or so I'm told. I wonder how long I can surf the net and write my blog before anyone realises I'm not doing work yet?

White Socked Ankles

Why why why do some men still insist on wearing trousers that leave little to the imagination in the sock department?? That's right, socks! Listen, it was cool when Michael Jackson did it, and even then its coolness was questionable, but unless its 1987 or you're doing the moonwalk the reason for it is beyond me! Sure your trousers don't drag on the ground and get dirty, but surely its possible to achieve that aim without cutting the legs off at your ankles?! In my quest for an answer I asked resident 'I'm so cool I don't need fashion and that makes me fashionable' expert Mark Flavin : "Maybe they think they have sexy ankles and are trying to draw attention to them???###!!
thats my theory, anything else would be just stupid....."
And I agree. Anything else would just be stupid. If a man discovered that he did have sexy ankles, then I suppose he would want to show them off, seeing as most men most certainly DO NOT have ANYTHING that could remotely be referred to as sexy ankles...but if he didnt? If he realised that his ankles were actually quite normal, then what could possibly encourage him to do such a rash and crazy thing?? Maybe it's to show off his socks? Which if he was wearing socks that his 2 year old knit and embroidered for him then I would understand. Such socks would be unbelievably special socks and would be socks that he would want to show off. But WHITE socks? White socks are...white socks!! WHITE SOCKS!! you dont show white socks off! Unless you were showing off the whitness of them, which in the case of a Persil ad I could understand. Anything else would just be stupid.
And yet, why, as I sit here typing this, do I have an unobstructed view of white-sock-clad ankles poking out from under a desk? Why, why, why??