The Butcher made this for the winner of his fantasy football league. And I’m sorry, but this is just the most awesome thing I’ve seen all day. Well, not all day, but this morning. Look at how he used rice and beans for ballast.
Daily Archives: December 22, 2010
I wish I had a sewing machine. And a deer skull. And money.
I made a list of wishes the night of the solstice, a wish per slip of paper and crumpled them up. None of the wishes were for the things listed above, which I didn’t think to put on my list. But there my wishes were, those other wishes, crumpled and I took them out on the night of the eclipse and I threw them in the creek. Except that the wind caught them and they all blew up on the side of the creek.
And I considered reaching down and pushing them into the water.
And then I realized two things. 1. This must be why they tell you to toss over your shoulder and not look back. 2. If having your wished blow back at you isn’t a lot like life in general, I don’t know what is.
Complaints so Far
1. The house isn’t clean enough.
2. The garage isn’t clean enough.
3. The Butcher is going to his friends for dinner on Thursday so they have to have dinner just with me.
The Butcher had my car and they needed him to meet them at the motel to help unpack. He called and asked if I wanted him to swing by and pick me up so that I could see them last night. I was like, “What are you talking about? I’ll see them when they come over to the house.”
And he actually said, “I don’t think they’re going to want to come over to the house. It’s almost nine. I’ll just load the stuff that needs to come to the house and bring it on over here.”
And I sat there dumbfounded for a second, and said, “They’re going to want to come to the house.” And he got mad at me! “I say they’re not.”
Yeah, buddy? Who’s gloating on the internet?
I wish it were legal and ethical to give your parents pot brownies without their knowledge. I feel like, if I could figure out a way to keep them from realizing what I was up to, lobbying for a “But come on! This is how every visit goes!” exception to many, many drug laws would be fairly easy. I’d just unleash them down at the State Capitol and we’d get parental marijuana passed in this state no problem.
Ha, I kid. They won’t even alleviate the suffering of cancer patients. Of course, most cancer patients won’t come to their houses and tell them the 90 things that are unacceptable insults to them. Which means, maybe, cancer patients should consider hiring my parents as their lobbyists. Sorry, NORML, your ways are slow and too hippified. You’re too nice.
Probably all the pot.
Which is why my folks need it.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha.
Lord almighty, I would forgo every present they ever got me if they would learn to be happy. Not funny or amusing or delightful, which they are, often, but just happy. A little bit. If their default wasn’t “Oh my god, something is fucked up! I don’t know what and I don’t know where, but it’s obvious something has not been done right.”
Not just because them moving through the world like this is so painful to their kids, but because it is so obviously painful to them.