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We're expecting yet more savage weather tomorrow, and so I expect to spend a great deal of time sitting in the dark with everything turned off and unplugged. If it's thought to get exceedingly violent--dangerous lightning and winds in excess of seventy miles an hour--we fully intend to hie ourselves unto my mother's abode, which is made of concrete and not balsa wood and tarpaper. And yes, the Rammstein catalogue and concert tickets will be coming with us.
Speaking of Rammstein, the fen has been exceedingly quiet of late. I had expected it to be more active in the weeks leading to the North American tour, but it seems to have exhausted the topic for the time being, and some fans are far more interested in discussing Till's rumored relationship with a twenty-one-year-old social climber.
Now, I love to gossip--I cheerfully assert that gossip is an American pastime on par with football or baseball, and I have certainly had no shortage of opinions on Richard's paramours, but to see so many female fans accuse Till of robbing the cradle and humiliating his daughters with his choice of partner irritates me. Such an attitude presumes a knowledge of Till's relationship with his children that the fen simply cannot possess, and further presumes that Till's daughters operate by puritanical American mores. Maybe his daughters are embarrassed or uncomfortable seeing their father's private affairs splashed across the tabloids. I certainly would have been squicked to see my father's intimate and/or sexual exploits played out in the public eye. But not everyone operates by puritanical mores, and it's very likely that his daughters don't care who he's seeing or fucking and only want him to be happy and healthy, the end. Either way, it's none of the fen's business, and to trot out his daughters as an excuse for judgmental concern-trolling is a low and rather filthy strawman. Just say what you mean, Rammfen. Either you're jealous because he's not slipping his aged bratwurst into your underage sauerkraut, or you think he's a skeevy, old, pathetic pervert who's desperately trying to draw attention to himself and cling to his withered youth by drilling some vacuous celebutante. You're not making yourselves look any better by couching your disdain in terms of concern for daughters whom you've seldom seem. In fact, it makes you look like disingenuous assholes instead of garden-variety ones.
Speaking of Rammstein, the fen has been exceedingly quiet of late. I had expected it to be more active in the weeks leading to the North American tour, but it seems to have exhausted the topic for the time being, and some fans are far more interested in discussing Till's rumored relationship with a twenty-one-year-old social climber.
Now, I love to gossip--I cheerfully assert that gossip is an American pastime on par with football or baseball, and I have certainly had no shortage of opinions on Richard's paramours, but to see so many female fans accuse Till of robbing the cradle and humiliating his daughters with his choice of partner irritates me. Such an attitude presumes a knowledge of Till's relationship with his children that the fen simply cannot possess, and further presumes that Till's daughters operate by puritanical American mores. Maybe his daughters are embarrassed or uncomfortable seeing their father's private affairs splashed across the tabloids. I certainly would have been squicked to see my father's intimate and/or sexual exploits played out in the public eye. But not everyone operates by puritanical mores, and it's very likely that his daughters don't care who he's seeing or fucking and only want him to be happy and healthy, the end. Either way, it's none of the fen's business, and to trot out his daughters as an excuse for judgmental concern-trolling is a low and rather filthy strawman. Just say what you mean, Rammfen. Either you're jealous because he's not slipping his aged bratwurst into your underage sauerkraut, or you think he's a skeevy, old, pathetic pervert who's desperately trying to draw attention to himself and cling to his withered youth by drilling some vacuous celebutante. You're not making yourselves look any better by couching your disdain in terms of concern for daughters whom you've seldom seem. In fact, it makes you look like disingenuous assholes instead of garden-variety ones.
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