[ICYMI] Hell is other people - A Fall

In case you missed it...

This is a repost.  This was originally posted Sunday, March 22, 2009 at 4:09PM.  But the thing with blogs is, new people find them all the time, and who the hell has the time to search through all the crap I've written in the past?  So, now and then, I'm gonna regurgitate some of it for you.  Think of it as happy vomit.

 

 

 

"So," the massage therapist said, reading my intake form, "you had a fall?"

I answered with a monosyllabic affirmative, but a thousand thoughts were going through my head.

A FALL?

Since when am I old enough to have A FALL?

Why am I freaking out about this? Simple. The way in which we describe an unintentional rapid communing with the ground beneathe us is one of those little things that changes as we age.

For a child or toddler, we make light of the fall, scooping them up and making high pitched noises that communicate to them that it is nothing to be worried about. After all, children are as strong as cyborgs and bounce like rubber balls.

Hence:

"Did you go boom? Huh? Huh? Baba go boom-si-daisy? Oopsie! Boom-boom! Oopsie!"

When we are kids and teenagers the key is to cover up our deep embarrassment at drawing any attention to ourselves and pretend the entire thing never happened or, if you are quick-witted enough, turn it into a clever joke.

Hence:

"Dude, you just totally kissed the sidewalk!"
"Goddamn! Did you see that? I just ducked and rolled like James Bond, Yo!"

When we are adults, we tend not to fall, unless we are drunk, which is funny in anyone's book. No need to comment, just giggle and guffaw along with anyone who happened to see you.

But then old age sets in. The muscles waste, the skin bruises easily, the bones are fragile. Falling down turns into a major hazard, a source of real injury and possibly even a trap, if you can't get up again. At worst, it can compromise your dignity and become the final straw that sucks up your last vestige of independence, leading to constant supervision and a sense of being a burden till the Grim Reaper comes. It also becomes a conversation point that can last for weeks, especially in the lives of those who are no longer very active and therefore make a lot out of a little.

Hence:

"Did you hear? Mary had a fall."
"No! When?"
"Last night. She got up to go to the bathroom."
"Is she hurt?"
"Oh, yeeeeessss. They found her on the floor this morning when they went in to help her dress. She had peed herself."
"They'll be transferring her to the main building soon, she'll be with us!"
"Well she won't be sitting at my table at dinner time! She smells of cigarettes!"

And so, maybe I'm being a bit paranoid here, but I have always dreaded getting to the point where bumping Mother Earth was described as a fall.

In fact, when Puppy Dog pulled me over yesterday, I was pretty impressed at how quickly I bounced back up and how I didn't feel terrible afterwards. Even this morning, when I woke up and couldn't move my neck, I decided all I needed was a good massage and I'd be fine. I was handling it.

Till that skinny little bitch spoke to me like I'm an eighty year old.

Worse still - and I am not exaggerating - she gave me the worst massage I've had in years.

Hell is other people.

[ICYMI] Couch Potato - Showgirls

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In case you missed it...

This is a repost.  This was originally posted Saturday, April 4, 2009 at 5:32PM.  But the thing with blogs is, new people find them all the time, and who the hell has the time to search through all the crap I've written in the past?  So, now and then, I'm gonna regurgitate some of it for you.  Think of it as happy vomit.

 

 

 

 

 

I recently saw the most misogynistic, facile, puerile piece of excrement ever to grace the movie screen.

 

Showgirls.

  

Here is a sample of the script:

 

Our "heroine", Nomi, is at lunch with her nemesis/mentor/potential lesbian lover, Cristal. Nomi is a new chorus dancer in the topless horror of a stage show, Cristal is the "star" who emerges, almost naked, from a fake volcano.

Nomi Malone: [befuddled by the fancy menu and sarcastically referring to the diet prescribed by the manager of the dance troupe] Don't they have brown rice and vegetables?
Cristal Connors: Do you like brown rice and vegetables?
Nomi Malone: Yeah.
Cristal Connors: You do?
Nomi Malone: Sort of.
Cristal Connors: Really?
Nomi Malone: It's worse than dog food. [Cristal laughs]
Nomi Malone: It is!
Cristal Connors: I've had dog food.
Nomi Malone: You have?
Cristal Connors: Mmm-hmmm. Long time ago. Doggy Chow. I used to love Doggy Chow.
Nomi Malone: I used to love Doggy Chow, too!
[Cristal and Nomi toast each other with their potato chips.]

And, trust me, the rest of it is even worse.

The only way to tolerate this piece of crap is to laugh at it, and that's what David Schmader does.  He is a Showgirls officionado, and gives live commentary throughout the movie.

At the moment pictured above, he said:

"There isn't enough Purell (hand santizer) in the world!"

Classic.

[ICYMI] Post-its of Wrath - My birthday

 

In case you missed it...

This is a repost.  This was originally posted Thursday, October 8, 2009 at 8:09PM.  But the thing with blogs is, new people find them all the time, and who the hell has the time to search through all the crap I've written in the past?  So, now and then, I'm gonna regurgitate some of it for you.

These post-its are not real.  They are just in my head.  I love my husband.  Seriously.

Dear Fluffy Bear

My birthday is coming up. 

You are a man. 

Man = boy + geek. 

Buying you a birthday present is pretty easy.  It needs to be a toy, and it needs to be electronic.  End of story.

As you know, I am a woman.

Woman = girl + sex bomb + mother + cleaner + philosopher + culture vulture + friend + confidant + fashionista + chef + karaoke queen + stand-up comedian + secretary + project manager + politician + taxi driver + yoga junkie + make up artist + skincare consultant + hairdresser + interior designer + real estate agent + OK let's just leave it here or I'll be here all night.

So here are a few pointers to help you choose my birthday present: 

• Anything that can be used in the house by both of us --> Not a valid birthday present
• Anything that needs a charger, or you to "install" it --> Not a valid birthday present
• Anything that is considered "useful" --> Not a valid birthday present
• Anything that is involves us going to a nice store and you taking out your credit card --> You're getting warmer
• Anything that turns out to be EXACTLY what I dropped major hints about while watching TV --> You're pretty safe
• Anything small and shiny, that comes in a nice box --> Now you're talking

 To read more in the Post-its of Wrath series, click here.

[ICYMI] Puppy Talk - Sucky face and hairless apes

 

In case you missed it...

This is a repost.  This was originally posted Saturday, April 25, 2009 at 10:29PM.  But the thing with blogs is, new people find them all the time, and who the hell has the time to search through all the crap I've written in the past?  So, now and then, I'm gonna regurgitate some of it for you.

Puppy Girl:  EW!  Why does she do that?

Puppy Dog:  What?

Puppy Girl:  Try to suck my face off.  It's gross!

Puppy Dog:  You mean Mama?

Puppy Girl:  No, the Fairy Dogmother.  YES I mean Mama!  She bends over me and purses her fat hairless ape lips and makes a strange schlooping sound and leans in to suck my face!

Puppy Dog:  Sigh.  That's not what she's doing.  She's kissing you.  That's how hairless apes do it.  They don't lick like we do.

Puppy Girl:  Why not?  They have tongues, just like us!

Puppy Dog:  I don't know.  Maybe it's because their lips are so much bigger than ours.  Maybe they can't get them out of the way to let their tongue out far enough.

Puppy Girl:  Aw... they're deformed!

Puppy Dog:  Of course they are!  I mean, how about the hairless thing?  All those silly furs they have, all that time it takes to put them on, all that grunting when Mama tries to close those 'Jeans' things. We can just go outside whenever we want to. 

Puppy Girl:  I know!  And they can't run nearly as fast as we do.  Thank goodness they can go to that big house of food, because they sure as hell can't hunt with those big flabby legs.

Puppy Dog:  Have you ever seen them run?  Sometimes I run away from them just to see them klablobble after me out of the corner of my eye.  It's so funny! 

Puppy Girl:  They're so unstable standing on two legs!  Do you remember that time Mama fell over just because I wriggled a bit in her arms?  It was like a little earthquake when she toppled over!  Ha ha!

Puppy Dog:  And how about the howling?  When Mama howls at the music on the Flicker Box, my ears hurt!

Puppy Girl:  I know!  Whenever that Glee thing comes on the Flicker Box, I want to run away and hide!  Mama seems to think she can howl better than the little people inside the box, and she is so totally wrong!

Puppy Dog:  I think it's kinda funny... 

Puppy Girl:  Hairless apes are sooooo weird.

Puppy Dog:  Yeah, but they got the food.  And the beds.  And the fireplace.

Puppy Girl:  I guess I can put up with some sucky face now and again.

Puppy Dog:  Now you're getting it...

To read more in the Puppy Talk series, click here.

[ICYMI] Being a Doggy Mama - Funny Moments with Puppy Dog 1

In case you missed it...

This is a repost.  This was originally posted Saturday, April 25, 2009 at 10:29PM.  But the thing with blogs is, new people find them all the time, and who the hell has the time to search through all the crap I've written in the past?  So, now and then, I'm gonna regurgitate some of it for you.

Funny moments with Puppy Dog

1. You fart audibly while standing next to him. He looks up at you, puzzled, then steps back behind you and sniffs your butt.




2. You carry your dinner from the kitchen to the lounge. He follows you, nose in the air, sniffing like a cartoon character savouring a wafting yellow or pink colored smell in the air




3. He walks round and round on his cushion, paws it a few times, then plonks himself down




4. His head pops up from behind the coffee table if he hears a squeaking noise on the TV




5. He gets up from his lounge cushion at 11pm, walks across the dining room, claws clicking on the wooden floor, looks back at us - still watching TV - resentfully, and pads off to the bedroom. It's obviously bedtime, and we are late!

To read more in the Being a Doggy Mama series, click here.

[ICYMI] Diary of an Ex-Employee

 

In case you missed it...

Did you miss my rantings when I was unemployed?

I went through all the stages of grief, a bit of relief, regained my self-belief, and enjoyed a wonderful summer.

Here's a taste:

So.... Maybe I need to stop over-thinking this and accept I just have a cold.

 

OK.  I can do that.

 

So I'm cooking up a brew.  There's fresh grated ginger and fresh squeezed organic lemon juice and a fresh cinnamon stick.  Unfortunately I forgot to get honey so I had to carve some crystallized New Zealand stuff out of an old jar, but let's not be too fussy.

 

It's all stewing in water on the stove and I am enjoying thinking "Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble" when I stir it.  I am not actually saying it out loud, because I still sound like the bastard child of Kathleen Turner and James Earl Jones.

To read more, start the series here...