Mostly nonsense

When a band performs another band’s music it’s called a ‘tribute band’ but when you perform another comic’s material it’s ‘plagiarism.’

I don’t believe in outdated rituals like wedding rings so much as I believe in branding irons.  Because I think if major reconstructive surgery was involved in the termination of a relationship then the divorce rate would be much lower.  If you had to have your spouse’s name branded across your forehead it would much harder to say ‘hey honey, I give up because you refuse to put the seat up’ when you can still smell the flesh burning.

I decided to give up drinking once.  I said ‘enough of this!  You are too old to be drunk at 1pm on a Wednesday!’ but after like a week, I realized booze wasn’t my problem: 29 year old 2 time divorcee control freaks were.  And I never abandoned my friend again.

My family is Polish, Irish and English.  Talk about throwing a Molotov cocktail in the gene pool: idiots that drink combined with drinkers that fight fueled by terrible food.  If I had a choice between boiled scrode in an intestine or blood soup, I’m going with booze.  It’s genetic.

My real name is Polish and not only is it impossible to spell and say all those consonants in a row but my parents spelled it WRONG.  I realized that makes me no better than little Cindi with an ‘I’ whose folks tried to make her different and distract from her lazy eye.

I’m not lactose intolerant so much as I’m ‘well I’ll go to Lactose’s party if Law & Order is a rerun and at his last party he spilled his beer all over my new shoes.’

I’m not a feminist by any sense of the word.  I love a good woman and kitchen joke.  I’ll shout ‘make me a sandwich and open my beer!’ to my mom.  But you know what commercials piss me off?  Cleaning supply commercials, like soap with aromatherapy or those magical dusters that make you dance around like you’re Ginger Rogers.  People, seriously the only way you are going to get me THAT excited about cleaning is if that soap wafts reefer or that duster handle doubles as a vibrator.  As soon as I finish that bag of Doritos I will dust, dust, dust!

I also hate those long wearing lipstick commercials too.  What a load.  They say you can eat pizza and it stays on and I’m like no way it’s going to stay on after that model pukes that pizza up.  It’s just unrealistic.  You show me a bulimic proof lipstick and I am sold.

I never understood my habits when I was a kid until I thought about my heritage: Polish, German, and Irish.  I used to storm into my sister’s room that was next to mine and take all her stuff even though I didn’t want it.  Then I’d take her out on my big wheel and into the way back yard and make her dig holes and rake leaves.  But then when I was on the way back to my house I’d get lost even though I was only 50 feet from the door.  So I’d just stop and take a shot of whiskey from the flask in my Care Bears fanny pack, piss my pants and pass out in the driveway.  Genetics.

My family is like 4th generation American so we rarely ate really ethnic food.  But I could never understand why there were livers in the freezer.  We never ate them, they were just there.  So one time when I was 10 I finally asked my mom.  “Mom, what’s with the livers?” and she said “oh those are the spares you kids were born with.  You’ll get them when you turn 18 with your college fund.”  I tried to get mine early though because 8th grade was really tough.  I never would have made it through without my friend Stoli.

I have a problem with tampon commercials that prove their leak protection by using gymnasts.  Those chicks don’t go through puberty until they’re what, 30?  Maybe?  Plus anyone that knows physics knows that all that circular swinging around would keep liquids in their container.  Haven’t you ever swirled your drink around in your glass?  It doesn’t fly out!

Have you ever had one of these nights?  You’re home alone and you think I’ll just have one cocktail to relax from my day.  One turns into a whole bottle of Skyy and you start chasing your dog around your apartment pretending to be a zombie and crashing into walls.  Then you decide ‘I’m hungry, let’s eat!’ but it can’t be something simple, like cereal or anything that doesn’t involve a burner or open flame.  No.  Usually I like eggs.  So you turn the burner on first.  Find the pan, it’s covered in chicken grease.  Find the sponge eventually buried under 400 Tupperware containers in the sink.  Wash the pan and put it on the hot burner.  Find some egg substitute with the expiration date smeared off.  Pour half the container in the pan.  Spray non-stick cooking spray on top of the eggs.  Attempt to flip eggs but don’t have the spatula.  Spatula, spatula…in the dishwasher CLEAN!  Yes!  Eggs aren’t sticking enough so you turn the heat up to high.  Chase the dog around some more.  The eggs and the spatula that you left in the pan are now molded together.  You give up and decide to paint your nails instead.  Nine hours later you wake up on the couch face down with an empty can of Spaghetti O’s on the coffee table and leaves in your hair.  I hate Tuesday.

I hate the phrase ‘they died doing what they loved’ because it’s usually under some horrible circumstances.  I seriously doubt that skydiver really wanted to go by receiving multiple cranial contusions against the pine trees.  Or that hiker just truly loved having her face ripped off by a mountain lion.  If I were to really go doing what I loved it would be in my saggy ass grey pajama pants and a white t-shirt with a makeup stain on the collar, eating bbq chicken nachos, drinking vodka and watching some trashy reality TV, like Rock of Love.  Although most likely what will happen is I will be walking my dog in flip flops and he’ll try to chase a squirrel and I’ll take a gainer down the stairs and snap my neck.  The local news will find some neighbor I’ve never seen to interview and they’ll say ‘I always seen her with those little plastic bags of crap.  At least she died doing what she loved: snapping her neck with a hand full of shit.’

In these hard economic times, is hooking really THAT bad?  It’s the oldest profession in the world.  How did it stick around if it’s so bad?  We have done away with plenty of morally wrong things in the history of man so why not prostitution as well.  I figure I have about 6 to 7 hours of horizontal time a day where I do nothing and generate zero income.  If I could rent out my sleeping body to the lonely then at least it would be economically responsible, if nothing else.  Of course I will have to increase my penicillin uptake…

If you have digestive issues and work in a big office,  don’t wear unique shoes.  We all know it’s you in the stall with your flowered peep toe wedges and we know what you’re doing.  I always want to read the magazines in there but I don’t want to touch them either.  So then it becomes a balance of keeping your butt close to the seat but leaning far enough forward to see around the first magazine to the second.  I bet Brad and Angie are responsible for a lot of wet toilet seats.

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Mostly nonsense

One thought on “Mostly nonsense

  1. Pat says:

    That was laugh out loud funny. Seriously, sitting in my office in china getting stared at by coworker because I intermitedly burst out.

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