What it Really Means

Yeah, I know I suck any more.  The self-loathing lately trumps any miniscule bit of talent I ever had.  Fuck the world.  No, that’s not right.  Fuck the fucking world.  There, better.  I don’t like bitter me; I like happy me.  I need to do that stuff that they say to do.  You know, stuff that winners do.  Good luck to me on that.  And fuck the world anyway, even if I magically became a winner.

Ignore all that.  I came here to share this question:  On a very windy day, if the water in the toilet bowl is kinda pulsating, instead of just sitting there like it’s supposed to–you know, waiting for us to grace it with our, ahem, company–do you think it’s the wind blowing down the sewer vents that is causing the water to stir, or do you think it’s simply the evil demon shape-shifting clowns that live in the sewers, waiting for us to sit down, so they can reach up and stab and mutilate our bodies and pull the mangled pieces of us into the pipes, while somehow magically keeping our brains and souls alive so that they can enslave them and use our psyches to help them enslave more victims?

It can’t be as simple as the wind.


(I get very few tv channels because I don’t subscribe to anything except Netflix.  Internet costs me enough as it is, and My Little Pumpkin Pie has access to cable tv at her other home.  So I get a lot of “Golden Oldies.”  Plus catheter and incontinence products ads.  Note to oldies networks:  Us “decrepits” are just as likely to use cleaning products, or buy toys for kids or grandkids, or use prepaid phones, as we are to pee our pants.  Just a thought.  Not every ad has to remind of impending oblivion.  Anyway, on a rerun of the Carol Burnett show tonight, Carol introduced this great new young talent, Lily Tomlin.  If this plays, Lily starts a 4-minute monologue at about 4:30, which is pretty great, really.)

Happy times to you all.  Comments are always welcome, if you’re of a mind.  I just have a “comment policy” because I got some odd thing from some wet-brain in a comment years ago.  Anything reasonably sane is welcome.  If you don’t feel like commenting, thanks for stopping by anyway.

This entry was posted in Humor, Life and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to What it Really Means

  1. love me some catheter ads eh?

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