2/4/10
I'm fucking low. My beloved Tar Heels are redefining "from first to würst" by shitting the bed every three days, our careers are suffering at the mediocre hands of unfettered cronyism, I motherfucking hate the town I live in, I'm not sleeping, my low-level fatigue has crept back, my daughter is in the other room crying herself to slumber through a cold, we have a parenting issue that is proving painful to solve, and I have no desire to do anything outside the house, which is good, because our car just got recalled.
Normally, this is when I write a chipper, frothy blog about something completely unrelated, and I get lots of nice emails and muddle through, but there's only so many times I can - or for that matter, want to - pull that trick. I'm not in this for affirmation, pity or charity, and yes, for god's sake, yes I know that true misery is being under forty feet of rubble in Haiti, but we all have our goddamn fish to fry.
Back in college, when I used to write the column every Wednesday, I decided to create a caricature of myself that was relentlessly positive - and despite my parents' divorce and various other debilitating issues, my life largely followed suit. I should probably do that here, too, but that's what you get when you try to write every weekday: the half-blown, first-draft thoughts of someone who wouldn't mind taking a baseball bat to a sapling.
One of you say something funny, so I can just sit in the back with a scowl, farting, and blaming the dog.
Sorry - I've got nothing. I am pretty low these days myself. Hope things get better for you soon.
Poo jokes are still funny...
Knock, Knock.
Who's there?
Smell mop.
Smell mop who?
Ewww, no, I don't wanna smell your poo!Hope your situation improves, and that I just brought a smile to someone's face.
I think someone and their family needs to go to Disney Land. Who can be sad while they are at Disney Land? As far as the Tar Heels go, consider this year as a Zanax calming our March b-ball anxiety. We can't slay the dragon every year.
I got nuthin. Work is anxious, bills are racking up, and the dog just died. This was supposed to be a better year.
I saw a car with the iowa license plate 666GTR the other day. Which is almost as good as the one I saw that said OOOBJS, but not quite.
It bothers me that there's nothing good on Showtime or SyFy right now. Secret Diary of a Call Girl has jumped the shark, and Caprica doesn't sound that enticing, and Tracy Ullman stopped being funny,oh, about the time the Simpsons started on her show...
Here is a short true story I wrote...it always brings some laughs:
A few years ago, it was the high-season of pets in our home. I know it always appears that way to those that know us well, but this particular season we owned two dogs, a cat, two lovebirds and two hermit crabs. The kids were thrilled with all of the living creatures around us, though it seems all I did was clean up after more critters than the three required by law. Sadie was particularly fond of her hermit crab although their lack of activity, their stench and well, boring lifestyle made it a mystery to me.
It was a Sunday morning during this season. Well, actually, it was one of those Sunday mornings. You know the kind - the one where you break every cardinal sin, or at least think of them, before you reach the church doors? From the moment you wake, the kids are fighting, your husband has a headache and the irony of the snipping, snapping, arguing does not escape you on this, "the Lord's day."
Your squalling and fretting continue even when you enter the church parking lot, and as the doors of the van slide open you try to put on that "happy" church face where all appears calm and perfect, and none of the struggles that plagued you just a second ago are visible. Wetting your hand to try to smooth the obvious bed-head still evident on your children. What wetness remains you use to wipe off the last bit of sugary stickiness from the breakfast consumed just a few minutes earlier.
You quickly shove the kids in their age-appropriate classrooms and arrive at the sanctuary doors out of breath realizing that you still have the diaper bag in hand. Back to the children's wing you go.
And this is the set up of today's chapter in, "The Enigma that is Sadie." I had forgotten about it until recently and as I recounted it to several friends, I was told it was definitely blog material.
After the sermon was over, I collected my three children. As we maneuvered down the packed church hallway, I noticed that something dropped to the floor from Sadie's vicinity and subsequently rolled slightly away. I stopped. I peered. I sucked in every bit of breath in the area. It was...a hermit crab. Yes, my dear little Sadie had brought a pet to church unbeknownst to me and against every rule we have on bringing items from home to church. I mistakenly believed that if the rule pertained to inanimate objects, i.e. purses, toys, lip gloss, then surely it was clear that animate, living, breathing pets were as well. I was wrong.
I ran to retrieve the hermit crab before he was stepped on by the stampede of adult and children's feet. Face it, one blow and he would be squashed out of existence. With one quick swoop I clutched him in my fist and turned to face the child responsible. I am sure the look on my face was not a pretty one, possibly the devil incarnate. But then, I realized something more shocking than the fact that our crustacean was a guest that morning. Well, the term "guest" implies that it was somewhat voluntary and clearly, the hermit crab had no say so in the matter.
What dawned on me was that Sadie did not have any pockets on her dress that morning. She did not have a purse in which to store the hermit crab either, because that was against our rule. Here was the quick, ensuing interview:
Me: Sadie, where did you have the hermit crab?
Wait for it...wait for it...Sadie: In my panties.
Oh, my. Oh, MY! Yes, think about it for a moment. That meant that my child had crabs in a bizarrely and strangely and perplexing way. I was at a complete loss.
Speechless, I thrust the crab into the diaper bag I was still lugging around for Lily's sake and I quickly herded the children to the car. The ride home was quiet, the calm before the storm. At home we silently filed inside. The rest of the day was quite unremarkable, until dinner. It was at that point in time when I realized I had left the diaper bag in the car and the hermit crab contained within. Racing to the car I discovered that the crab had, in fact, escaped the confines of the diaper bag. I spent the next 30 minutes crawling around the floor of the van, flashlight in hand, searching for this "beloved pet." I finally discovered him, clinging to the bottom of the driver's seat. Still living? Yes. Traumatized? Oh, most definitely!
It is no surprise that he met his demise just a few days later. I decided not to tell the children right away, just to see how long it took them to notice he was missing. It took them exactly 16 days. Clearly, we were all over "the crabs."
I got nothing other than to commiserate with you on most of the above (not the parenting though - I'm childless). I, like you, try my damnedest to put on a positive facade, even when things are not going well, I just don't like to bring others down and don't want to burden those I care for most and don't want people that aren't that close to me to know when things aren't good. But sometimes, like currently, things just fucking suck and it's impossible to put on a brave and happy face. So while not something to laugh and fart about at least you know you're not alone in giving up on being fake cheery today.
"A polar bear walks into a bar.
Bear: 'I'll have a scotch. . . .and soda'.
Bartender: 'Why the long pause?'
Bear: 'I don't know. . . .I've always had them.'
Was texting with a buddy during the game last night and he remarked that we'll be stellar in two years and I remarked back that we might have another title in two years. Think about three years from now how we'll be talking about three titles in 8 years under Roy. Of course, this team may just give Roy a heart attack. Dang, that didn't help the mood very much. I suggest then that you DVR the F/X show ARCHER. It's hilarious and created by a Tar Heel.
A grasshopper walks into a bar.
The bartender says, "Hey, we have a drink named after you!"
The grasshopper says, "What? You have a drink named Kevin?"
Ooh, how random! One of my good friends here in Charlotte is the sister of the art director for ARCHER. She's been plugging the show for him on her FB status.
Guy goes to the doctor for a checkup.
About 5 minutes into the checkup the Doctor says to man somberly, "Sir, I have to tell you this, but you're going to have to stop masturbating."
Alarmed, the man says "Why, doc?"
And the doctor replies, "Because I'm trying to examine you."
Jeez Louise, the Heels are just Battlefield Earth-bad these days.
AAAHHH...I hate typos...they kill jokes...here is an error free version
Guy goes to the doctor for a checkup.
About 5 minutes into the checkup the Doctor says to the man somberly, "Sir, I hate to tell you this, but you're going to have to stop masturbating."
Alarmed, the man says "Why, doc?"
And the doctor replies, "Because I'm trying to examine you."
Jeez Louise, the Heels are just Battlefield Earth-bad these days.
I could write this joke out, but they do it on YouTube so much better.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZNU_F-DFaJw
Happy Friday, everyone. :)
Watching videos from Pomplamoose always makes me feel better:
Why do my comments get held for review now? Did I say something to get put on the naughty list?
(ignore if this one makes it)
What do you call a cow that just had a baby?
Decaffeinated.
I'm pretty sure I found that on the backside of a laffy taffy wrapper.
LA sucks (even though I work Downtown most days). Don't believe the crap about OC being shitty republican land. Come on down. We left Laguna Beach two months ago and bought in OldTown Tustin....big yards, old homes, plenty of trees, no LAites. Drop in if you like. t
A guy meets a hooker in a bar. She says, "This is your lucky night. Let's play a game. I'll do absolutely anything you want for $300, so long as you can say it in three words."
The guy replies, "Hey, why not?" He pulls his wallet out of his pocket and, one at a time, lays three 100-dollar bills on the bar and says slowly, "Paint ... my ... house."
and this beat box video from somewhere in scandanavia always makes me giggle.
Two muffins are in an oven. One turns to the other and says, "Whew! It's hot in here." The other muffin screams and says, "AAAGH! A talking muffin!"
Exeunt.
You know your a redneck
if you're _______ _____ _______
and you're thinking about _______ _____ ______.
if you have ever watched the show intervention this is funny. if not, you won't get it.
all u need is a little irish whiskey and a few cracklin' logs fix ye right up.
Every year I really struggle with February and March. Just reading your tale of woe, and many of the empathetic comments, makes me think I'm not alone.
I'm particularly sorry about your career disappointment. Life truly is not fair. It sometimes IS all about who you know and whose ass you kiss. Maybe LA is a toilet where only the shit rises to the top.
Come back East, lovely Williams family. Hang with some Real People for a change. We will all have a big welcome party in New York. I'll bring my famous apple pie.
Muffin joke = now my favorite joke
been around for a while but always makes me laugh...
Because farts are always funny . . .
Today is the 100th day of school at my daughter's elementary school. I was there this morning judging essays that the kids wrote all with the heading, "If I had a $100, I would..."
It is amazing what kids think they can buy with $100 - limos, hotels, combines, camaros.
But one girl said that if she had $100, she would buy a pink dress with tits.
We laughed for an hour before a pre-k teacher came by, read the essay and let us know that she meant - tights!!
Anna keeps sayin "you've got a butt!" and then falls over laughin.
Did ya laugh?
Don't worry about the Heels. Although very painful to watch, they will figure it out. Maybe even during the Duke game (fingers crossed!).
As far as hating where you live, there is enough awesomeness in America's second largest city to look past bullshit. Get a Los Angeles magazine, do some internet research, or ask your readers, but seek out the good shit.
oh Ian,
I do hope you feel better. Your blog and writing brings me so much enjoyment - even with the topics that I disagree with you on. Exercise? vacation? add wellbutrin to the mix?Kelsey,
I thought your story was lol funny!
(ps I am a mom to three and we have two hermit crabs!)
Two fish swam into a concrete wall. One fish turned to the other fish and said, "Dam."
I always felt that i had nothing to say but SHIT for along time.......I still talk shit ( usually in really uncomfortable situations and of course on your blog because I'm useless at getting my act together)....but these days I mean it more......the shit i talk is real shit instead of pretend shit......still shit but then you think to yourself " If shit is shit.....when does it become shit....maybe shit means more.......maybe shit is the key to the unlocked door of "being real " I think you are wonderful.......always have , ever since I met you ......I thought you knew that about yourself Ian...you really need to be be aware how lovely you are.....you were a beakon to me even if you did not know it.....you made me feel that it was okay to be so kind and warm...I will never forget that feeling xxx (beakons like you have to shed their light without getting a light back....you give it back to yourself)
also just to let you know that i also have AS(just like charlie only different in a female way).......so maybe explains why in the past and present I may have seemed sometimes unaware of the emotional reactions I may of created.....sorry for all that..... and by the way AS is not an excuse ......it is a way of explaining how my brain works....the rest is up to me and i know that......as for a joke to cheer you up.........." Brenda opened the refigerator and the horse said neigh!!!
Descartes goes into a coffee shop and orders a cup of coffee.
The waitress says: 'Would you like milk with that, sir?'
Descartes says 'I think not'...and then he disappears.(Cogito ergo sum)
We're in the middle of a blizzard here in DC - we're calling it "Keyser Snowse." I hope you feel better soon, dear Ian.
worth another look. Always makes me happy. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sv5iEK-IEzw
Ian: I'm really sorry. I know it sucks to feel that way. I'm thankful that you have a loving wife and daughter, as well as a huge network of people who love you to help you through this. Keep trying, because the alternative is absolutely unacceptable.
Funny story from Henry's preschool:
The teacher is talking about air and breathing. She inhales deeply and says, "The air goes in through your _______?" The children all reply, "NOSE!" The teacher continues, "The air then goes into your ________?" She's pointing to her chest or lungs and one child yells, "BOOBS!" True story.
I feel your pain Ian. I keep thinking my cranky mood must be PMS but 6 weeks later I'm thinking PMS should be gone by now :(
Come see us in Chapel Hill. Maybe we can pity party together?
i have been a bit restless and cranky as of late, but i heard this joke today at work and for some reason really cracked up:
q: what did the zero say to the eight?
a: "hey, nice belt."
Salem, honestly, that's the hardest I've ever laughed at a joke in a long, long time.
I am laughing hysterically at emma's post, b/c I can so see my mind going "there." My kids, of course, want to know why I am laughing so hysterically while sitting by myself. So after unsuccessfylly trying to change the topic, I tell them that a little girl told her teacher that if she had $100 she would buy a dress with tights...and she spelled tights T-I-T-S. I expect my 6 yo daughter to totally get this. And she did. As she laughs hysterically, she tells me "everyone knows you spell tights T-I-T-E-S."