Menses just commenced. It's 1:14 AM. I was asleep. That felt good. At 12:24, I popped up. I think I'm awake, maybe awakeish is more accurate.
I'm always surprised when those handy-soapy-foamy-bottles run out of soap. For some lame ass reason, it never occurs to me that they ever will. They feel so lifetime supply, even though the bottles aren't more than 8 inches tall. Similarly, when I flip on a light switch and the light flickers to its death, I think "Now what?" Duh, schmuckette, you change the fucking light bulb. Intellectually, I know this, yet for some odd reason, it never comes to mind.
In fact, a few years ago, my mother walked into my house and said, "Why aren't the lights working?" I said "I don't know, I flick the switch and they don't work." After a fit of uproarious laughter, she said, "Would it kill you to change the light bulb?” Hmmm. "No", I shamefully responded. I wonder why... it is that I have a block against certain tasks. I can be absentminded, but not about the big stuff, I don't think.
It's 4:30 AM. I started writing this post 3 hours ago. I ran to the store. One of the stock daddies had beautiful tattoos covering the length of his arms. I asked him, "Do your tattoos tell a story?" He winced, glaring at me as if I was from Fucktardville. Fuck me for thinking a labyrinth of gorgeous tattoos spun a yarn, what an assjockey I must be for not realizing that a man's arms covered in tatts could be so fucking random.
My stomach hurts something awful at the minee.
I walked away from my lappytoppy for 5-minutes and had a fabalicious idea that I completely forgot. Why? I didn’t write it down. These days if I don’t write things down, they are MIA like Stayin' Alive.
PS: I have been trying to get online to finish this post for almost an hour. Now, I’m irked.
My stomach hurts something awful at the minee.
I need to drink more H2o.
13 comments:
I would also assume that some big tats tell a story. There are stories behind my two relatively discrete tattoos...I don't see covering yourself with ink for...what? Kicks?
I bet there was a story, but a personal story that you as a strange woman were not allowed to know.
So when, I'm wondering are we female bloggers going to tackle the ticklish question of our very own personal stories of abortion? It's about time we all started telling our stories. Remember when Ms Magazine was young and Roe v Wade was before the Supremes, a very long list of famous women signed their names as supporters of abortion rights having had abortions pre Roe v Wade. It was very daring, courageous, and empowering. About time to do it again, don't you think?
You probably will not believe this, but I actually witnessed John T and Sly filming Stayin' Alive in Central Park in 1983.
It was such a high-ball sighting for such a low-ball movie.
Now I'm forced to say I saw them filming for the sequent of SNF.
As you say, MIA
Oh honey!
Random venting is good for the soul. Especially if it's funny and maybe a little dirty.
I totally know what you mean about the forgetting your idea if you don't write it down thing. PG gets furious with me when I start a blog post because when the mojo hits me, I gotta run with it right then and there or I'll lose it. There's nothing more frustrating than having it all right there at your fingertips, and then losing it because you had to do something else, like work or go to a funeral.
Ok, I guess there are more frustrating things, like unemployment and the Holocaust. Just sayin.
The Dancer would tell you to not talk to strangers. That's what she tells me all the time.
And what anon said. Except in English.
"Would it kill you to change the light bulb?”
As Anne will tell you, this is the sign that you are ready to settle down and have a man do all that annoying shit that you don't even want to think about. That, and moving furniture, is why we are here ; )
"He winced, glaring at me as if I was from Fucktardville. Fuck me for thinking a labyrinth of gorgeous tattoos spun a yarn, what an assjockey I must be for not realizing that a man's arms covered in tatts could be so fucking random."
Foirst, remember that I was a stock daddy too, so when I tell you that the job doesn't attract the biggest and the brightest, you're the one that should be looking at him like he came from Fucktardia.
Second, he probably feels worse because even if some of those tattoos could tell a story, he's probably the only person involved that has absolutely no recollection of those lost weekends...though the rest of us do via YouTube, "The Smoking Gun Presents: World's Dumbest" and porn.
Bubs, Thanks for validating my point, I knew I wasn't crazy.
When you're that tatted, there's got to be a yarn. How can they be so random?
Good point, Utah.
PS: I've already started a project about that very thing and the minute it's live, which I'm hoping will be next week, I will be soliciting you for an abortion yarn!
CP, you are so fabulous, dirty and dark. Ha.
Yes, I know exactly what you mean and hopefully PG will understand, too, when he starts forgetting things. I find that I have to write absolutely EVERYTHING down these days.
Gifted Typist, Really? How funny. I kind of love that you witnessed it. What a kick assian memory, ya know? It's great campy street cred.
Lisa, Love the "What he said", re: the chinese characters.
We should listen to the dancer.
Could we love Cormac any more than we do?!?!?! He's HILARIOUS.
Post a Comment