Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Not my best friend.

I have this really ugly side. As the years have come and gone, I've realized that a lot of humans share this trait so I don't feel particularly unique about it anymore. And I'm not surprised when I encounter it in its various unexpected forms.

For me, something that hasn't changed over time is that I still can't squish the motherfucker down my gullet far enough. The nasty dog crawls its shit stained, piss-soaked tail out of my guts more often then I would like.

This, I believe, is the crux of my unhappiness. Of my depression. When I subdue the dog, I live and don't question myself. I feel good. When the dogs chews threw its leash and bites off its own leg and growls through my psyche, I feel very, very un-good. Phony. Pretend. Like the dream when you take the stage for the recital but you've never rehearsed one step. I know the audience can tell I'm a fraud, but I keep dancing anyway chasing that fucking dog back into its cage.

Friday, September 3, 2010

The kindness of strangeness

The Witnesses came by today. In their street clothes. That means it was an informal, unofficial visit. And they came to bring Lincoln a gift. This really cool, really tacky, bouncy/twisty/rocking horse thing that interacts with the TV. They thought about it a lot and thought it would be good for him. It is. And as much as I bitch, I do still truly believe there are a lot more good people out there than shitty people. And NO, none of that means that I am suddenly willing to accept Jesus Christ as my personal savior. Resume breathing.

Oh! P.S. HUGE P.S. When Witness Girl (she's married and she's a nurse, she's a woman, but she's so cute and adorable and the size of an Olsen twin that I must call her "girl") bent over to help put together crazyrockingpony, her rather adorable and dare I say *racy* panties poked out over her waistband. And I stared. The End.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Yes, it bothers me that much

So here's what bothers me about using the word "retard" and any of it's variations as insult, adjective or exclamation (please forward to all of your "but I'm an equal opportunity offender!" types):

When you use that word, the people who you are offending the most aren't likely to realize what you're doing and therefore can't defend themselves or respond appropriately to your assholedness. So, if you are a coward, press on! I'll be looking for you. If you'd like to change and grow a bit, find A NEW WORD.