May 2013
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Ain’t It A Shame - Leadbelly
April 2013
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Hgthr, the Indignant
In a field, an army of men clad in armor and ready for battle. Their leader, large and bearded, is standing in front of them.
Bearded Leader (deep voice of authority): They think they can come into our lands. They think they can take what’s ours. We shall not let them. They may take our lives! They may rape our women! But we fight for—
Voice in the crowd: Whoa! Wait, what?
A...
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March 2013
11 posts
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Conversations with my Father
Dad: What are you doing?
Me: Sitting in my basement smoking a doobie.
Dad: Okay.
Me: Just kidding. I don't even have a connect out here.
Dad: All you'd have to do is go a couple of blocks in either direction and ask someone.
Me: Yes, of course. 'Excuse me, fine sir. Don't bother to remove your hand from your crotch. I can see you're holding your pants up. Just a quick question, do you know where I can get some (whispers) marijuana cigarettes?'
This dynamic only works, because he knows I'm joking.
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Texting with Friends: Dimples.
Him: Dimples are your kryptonite
Me: Parcel tongue:Harry Potter and snakes: whatever subsonic beacon dimples emit:my vagina and dimples.
Him: LMFAO. I enjoy your math/HP speak.
Me: I'm weak! It's okay as long as when I'm signing over my nonexistent 401K, I stop for a sec and ask myself does he have dimples.
February 2013
20 posts
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Dinosaurs and the Devil
sincereconversations:
Plastic dinosaurs should not be a threat to your child’s faith. If they are, then you’re already fucked. Cool your jets lady. I’m sure there is something in the good book about Him -with a capital H- making all things great and small. Barney’s purple ass may not have been on the menu at the last supper, but penguins aren’t mentioned in the Bible and I refuse to...
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When I'm old
I’ll say super racist/inappropriate shit. To clarify, I’m expecting that by the time I get up there in years, we’ll have become ultra-politically correct. And no matter how progressive I think I am, my terminology will be outdated. I’ll be using gender specific pronouns. And some little shitty liberal will be like, “We don’t say that anymore, we say person or use their names.” And I’ll be...
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Texting with Friends
Him: Duh Trisha, English is the language of God.
Me: No Karen, the language of Jesus. God spoke Hebrew.
Truthfully, this is the least offensive part of the conversation.
Had a killer post about Obama (the movie), but the new tumblr and my computer conspired to take it all away. Not pleased. I’m sincerely displeased.
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While heading to grab a quick late lunch and grumbling about the ever-growing mountain of crap I have to do at work, I flipped over the change pouch I use as a wallet-not realizing it was open. I heard change hit the ground and was all too ready with the “and now I have to pick up all the effing change!” rage. One penny fell out. It was heads. It was from my birth year. I made a wish. And laughed...
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Crafting a Nicholas Sparks Movie
I have absolutely no desire to see the latest installment of the Nicholas Sparks adaptation series. Don’t get me wrong, Ole Nicky has found the golden formula. It’s a good thing. I imagine him sitting at his desk, wiping away sweat with a crisp hundie, typing away at the next great American romance. He, in collaboration with Hollywood, has figured out how to make single women of all ages flood...
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All of the following should be filed underShit you should say to me if you want me to punch you in the throat, though really I’ll just fantasize about creative ways to murder you, but I won’t consider it murder, because it’s obviously euthanasia.
Throw him/her/me/you/us/this/that/the other under the bus.
I blame reality television for making this phrase so ubiquitous. And...
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Making Eye Contact With Strangers: Childhood...
EXT. SIDEWALK - DAY
I was taking a leisurely walk when I was stopped by an older gentleman.
Him: Hello Miss Lady.
Me: Hi.
Him: I just want to tell you that you are so lovely. I mean I saw you walking and I just had to stop you and tell you that. You look like my childhood sweetheart.
Me: Thanks.
Him: No seriously. I don't mean you no harm. My mother taught me to respect women. And you're a beautiful woman.
Me: Thanks.
Him: I know you probably got somewhere to be, but I just think you have such great energy. I mean I've seen you around and your smile and the the way you carry yourself.
Me: Thanks.
Him: My name is Uncle Freddy.
Me: Nice to meet you.
Him: Gosh, you look so much like my childhood sweetheart. I thought you were her when I saw you walking.
Me: ???? (I'm assuming that you're at least three decades older than me... I can assure you that I'm not her. Mr. Uncle Freddy?)
Him: I'm a single grandfather. I used to be a merchant marine. I'm disabled now, because I fell and hit my head on the curb right there. Hit my head.
Me: Ohhh (That explains the limp and the speech delay. Okay.)
Him: Yeah, I don't mean you no harm, but would you mind if I took you out sometime. You got a nice shape.
Me: Thanks.
Him: We're having a barbecue on Saturday. Family coming in from Jersey and North Carolina. I mean if you're not doing anything you can come on over. I don't mean any disrespect. I'm a single grandfather. My mother raised me to respect women.
Me: I don't know what I'll be doing this Saturday (but it probably won't include that barbecue).
Don't get me wrong, I was flattered, but there has to be an obvious gain for me to consider dating someone older than my parents.
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If you asked me a year ago what I was doing with my life I would have probably answered I’m treading water. If you ask me today, I’d say that I’m having an extended swim.
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I love when I type a name into Google and it tells me how I should feel about that person.
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January 2013
11 posts
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Tumblr Book Search: SincereConversations
Title: Sincere Conversations
Synopsis: Terrible things I think, feel and say everyday.
Example:
Athletic Supremacy
I propose that there be a Super Olympics. Hear me out. The Olympics come in para, special, winter and summer. They function to exhibit the skills of athletes worldwide in a myriad of sports. While watching these 2012 (pronounced twenty twelve) Olympiads, commentators in the...
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I fight dirty
I have never been in a fight. Well I’ve been in one, but I don’t think it counts (though technically I won).
My mother thinks the fact that I haven’t really been in a fight is because I’m too scary, which in this turn of phrase doesn’t mean that people are frightened of me, but rather I’m too fearful to fight. I suspect my mother feels this way because she was...
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Solo drinking isn't always sad
I have officially checked out of work for the day. My weekend has begun. Unfortunately, I still have more than an hour left. Whomps. But, instead of staring at the same paragraph of this fourteen page document, I’m going to take a moment to regroup… or post.
It has been a month since I began this new endeavor. Things are going well. This leads me to believe that the universe is...
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Another of life's many struggles
My CapriSuns smell like raw egg. This is a calamity. The thermostat in my fridge has two settings: arctic and tepid. My eggs froze, broke, thawed and trickled down the inside of the fridge door, all over my CapriSun cache.
Even after a good rinsing, when I’m sucking at the Capri-teat all I smell is raw egg. This should be employed as a sensory aversion therapy, because I mostly hate the...
