Category Archives: humor

but i do, i do give a fuck!

in honor of ‘i don’t give a fuck day’ on facebook, here’s a link. check it out if you want to. or not. i really don’t give a fuck.

(actually, i do give a fuck, and that’s my problem. i care too much about things i can do little or nothing about. and that’s one reason why my rsvp for this event on facebook was a ‘maybe’. i probably do give a fuck, which is why i will be up at 6 am on a saturday morning trying to sell some of my shit in a yard sale. if i didn’t give a fuck, why would i even bother? the other reason i chose ‘maybe’ was that perhaps tomorrow morning i’ll wake up and really won’t give a fuck. not likely, but it could happen. so, i’ll play along, either way, because of my need, as a 46-year-old nerdy woman of color, to be with the in crowd for once.)

peripherally related, i use the word actually way too much (see the beginning of the previous paragraph), in writing and in conversation. maybe to break myself of that habit, instead of writing or saying ‘actually’, i’ll start saying ‘well fuck…’ it could work: ‘well fuck, i do give a fuck…’ i’ve tested it out in my head in other instances when i’ve caught myself using ‘actually’, and it worked then too. of course i couldn’t do it at work and other places where i might want to appear somewhat professional. the main downside would be that i’d be dropping the f-bomb more than i already do. i don’t have a problem with f-bombs, unless it seems that’s all you know how to say. and my saying ‘well fuck’ all the time might put me into that category of seeming to have a ghetto-esque vocabulary. so we shall see. (and i think the fact that i used the made up phrase ‘ghetto-esque vocabulary’ might prove that my vocabulary is not ghetto-esque.)

i use parentheses too much also. as a matter of fact, at one point i thought of renaming this blog ‘parenthetical thoughts’ but that name was actually already taken. well fuck.

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repost: of mice and woman

this is from another defunct blog that i used to be a part of, zaadz. zaadz turned into the gaia community, which was a part of gaiam, which is when i stopped writing so much there. although i like gaiam’s website and products, the whole thing smelled too corporate for me, so i went onto blogger. when i heard that zaadz/gaia was going away last year, i saved most (but not all) of the postings that i had left behind.

anyway, this particular posting is about my fear of rodents and how they are my ‘room 101’, and how my fear clashes of them with my feelings about the sanctity of all sentient beings. really, we’re all just trying to get by. it also kinda cracks me up, because of the way i handled this confrontation with a mouse who was already just about dead. one of my friends who originally read this had a creative idea on how to deal with that conflict: meditate ‘good thoughts’ to the mice, telling them that i loved them because they were a part of god’s creation but if they didn’t leave my home by a certain day, i was going to have to kill them. i did try it, after this particular event, and it worked, at least for that season. (the following year i had mice again, and actually don’t remember if i did this again or not.)

so far this fall season, no mice have been sighted, but i have an awesome little cat who will take care of it for me if they are. in the meantime, here’s hoping i don’t have a replay of the following scenario again…

of mice and woman

[originally posted on Sep 22nd, 2006 on zaadz.com]

i have a mouse problem.  yes, it’s that time of year when mice start coming in from the cold, hiding out in various nooks and crannies in apartments and homes, and that is certainly happening in my home at this point in time.  however, my mouse problem consists of questioning why mice and other rodents even have to exist.  what in the world was god thinking???

snakes and bugs don’t creep me out in the least.  i used to know this guy who had a female boa constrictor named floyd, and i had no problem letting floyd wrap herself around my arm.  i also used to live with a guy who would literally scream like a girl if a snake came within 20 feet of him, even an innocent little garden snake.  when our cat brought in a snake from the surrounding woods, it was me who ended up retrieving it.  however, because we lived in a rural area, we had a mouse problem, and whenever we trapped one, his bad idea of a joke was to chase me around the house with the dead animal, taunting me with it.  and because he considered himself to be egalitarian, he insisted that we take turns disposing of the dead mice, instead of being a gentleman and doing this one little thing for me that he knew i could barely stomach.

so anyway, over the last couple of weeks i have found two dead and one half dead mice in my apartment.  i’ve said something to the apartment management, and they just shrug their shoulders.  meanwhile, i continue to put out the de-con (and feeling guilty about it), use sonic rodent repellants (that don’t work), and sleep with a light on (which i am finally getting used to).  the other day i got home and the half dead mouse was in the middle of the floor, so i could not ignore it.  (how did i figure out it was not dead?  from throwing shoes at it from across the room and seeing that it jumped, but didn’t scurry off)  so that’s when i started crying…

…back when i was 21 years old, i was still living at home with my mother and her significant other.  they had gone to mississippi on vacation, which meant that i had the house to myself.  whoo hoo!  my bedroom was upstairs directly across from the attic/storage room, and the first evening they were gone, i heard a rustling noise across the hall.  i gingerly looked in, and saw a rat.  i ran downstairs, and after several attempts, managed to dial the number where they were staying.  sobbing hysterically, i told them they needed to come home immediately.  (for the record, my mother practically hung up on me.)  they, of course, did not return home, but i enlisted a friend to accompany me to my bedroom one last time so i could gather my clothes, etc., for the week that i’d be sleeping downstairs in the guest room, until they came back to deal with it….

…so this crying because of rodents is not a new thing to me.  and i knew i had to dispose of this mouse but there was no way i was going to go near it, on the off chance that it would suddenly decide to run up my arm and into my hair.  i had to kill it.  i truly do believe in the sanctitiy of all living creatures… except for rodents.  and that really isn’t the case, but, well you know how some people wonder why god made mosquitos?  i really wonder the same about mice, so that and the fact that it was on the way to dead anyway were justification enough for me to do what follows.

crying and apologizing aloud to the mouse the whole time, i sprayed it with about half a can of bug spray.  at first it started convulsing, but then, mercifully (for both of us), it stopped.  okay, it was dead, but now i was breathing in all these carcinogens with a shiny dead mouse on the floor.  i wanted to sweep it into a bucket and flush it down the toilet.  instead, i guess because of the angle the bucket was at, i kept sweeping the mouse under the bucket, and then somehow the bucket was squishing the mouse and then the mouse got wedged against the refrigerator and as it turned into a comedy of errors,  i started crying again, saying ‘oh why god, WHY is this happening to me?’  i finally had to use a dustpan to unwedge the little fella and sweep him into that so i could flush him down the toilet (hoping to god i didn’t trip on anything between the kitchen and the bathroom, knocking the dead mouse someplace much worse, like onto my bed).  i then proceeded to scrub down every surface in the kitchen.

i would like to think that i learned something from this experience, and that maybe my fear of rodents has lessened.  however, other than learning a new way to kill a mouse, i don’t think this is the case.  a part of me felt horrible for taking the life of another living creature, and i tried to imagine how i’d feel if this giant alien came down from the sky and sprayed me with a supersize can of raid.  still, if i gained anything from this, it’s that i can do the thing i think i can’t do.  and i also learned that it’s time for me to get another cat.

it’s f’n day 10 of nablopomo

…and even though i’ve had a lame post here and there this month, i think working on the discipline to write something daily has been a good thing.

anyhoo, last night i saw the funniest video, a talk by the controversial hindu spiritual guru, osho. this talk was about the word ‘fuck’, which happens to be one of my favorite words in the english language. (seriously.) its versatility knows no bounds (just ask george carlin). and in this video, osho gives his listeners some examples of that versatility.

guess which one i don’t do?

seen at the rally to restore sanity and/or fear (from buzzfeed)…

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‘every time obama speaks, an angel has an orgasm’

a friend of mine says that he recently saw a woman wearing the above title on a t-shirt, and described the fact that she had the audacity to wear this out in public as being ‘gross.’ i told him that i didn’t see what was gross about it, and in fact would wear such a shirt (if i were inclined to wear shirts that have tacky sayings on them, which i’m not). however, even though i wouldn’t wear the shirt, i would certainly buy the button and maybe even wear it around town occasionally, especially now, right before the upcoming election. (hell, maybe i’ll make my own button.) i don’t know where this particular saying originated, but it’s funny, making fun of the notion of obama being some sort of perceived messiah. i could see calling it tacky or irreverent or trashy or possibly tasteless (i never said i had taste or class :), but gross? i assume it’s the word ‘orgasm’ he finds gross, which i certainly don’t understand. yes, orgasms are messy, sticky, loud, awkward… and they are also beautiful, mind-expanding, mind-melding, the pulse of creation… i happen to believe that the universe can accurately be described as god experiencing a 14 billion year long orgasm (they don’t call it the ‘big bang’ for nothin’). i also wonder about this: if a grown man is using the word ‘gross’ to describe orgasm, does his wife agree with that notion?

anywhooo, check out this hilarious video from ‘the daily show’ the night that ‘the one’ officially accepted the democratic nomination for the presidency of the united states. warning: within you will find the line, ‘every time obama speaks, an angel has an orgasm,’ with a (humorous) illustration of said occurrence, as well as a trip down memory lane as obama’s life history up until now is recounted for the viewer. enjoy, and don’t watch it in a place where you might get in trouble for laughing out loud.

and lo, the messiah speaks…

please click on the link below and check out this funny, well-written piece by gerard baker from the london times website regarding world citizen/messiah barack obama’s visit overseas. not only is he going to change america, he’s going to take the rest of the world along with us, in a handbasket…

he ventured forth to bring light to the world

a new long national nightmare

i love the title of this article at the onion.com, ‘obama, clinton, mccain join forces to form nightmare ticket’, because if we think things are bad as they currently stand, imagine the three of them united. it would truly be the beginning of a new long national nightmare.