1. They are haunted by candidates past.
Herman Caine shows up with stacks of pizza and accusations of liberal brainwashing. Michelle Bachman pops up from behind Mitt Romney to shoot lasers out of her crazy eyes. Hillary Clinton – Obama is haunted by her every day and she’ll just be there stoically biding her time for 2016.
2. Obama says “Ah” enough times for a satisfactory drinking game.
The rules to the game are: take a shot each time he utters, “Ah”, “Erm”, or “Uh” and 2 shots when Romney looks itchy in his own skin.
3. Romney tries to smile in ernest and his face cracks open revealing that his just armature being run by a race of tiny elves! Hail elven overlords! They all look like Will Ferrell.
4. Obama pulls out a dashiki and a congo drums and yells, “PSEEEEYYYYYYEEEEEECH!”
5. The opening handshake between the candidates is more like a first date hand holding. They both tear up a little bit.
6. Then they come out of the moment and high five and elbow bump! And the debate begins but all in rap freestyle. “My name’s Mitt Romney and I am here to say that 47% of you and freeloading and gay.” Jay-Z steps in for Obama and the whole room loses it’s shit.
7. We get straight answers to real questions like “What is your spirit animal?” and “If you could travel back in time, Coke or Pepsi?”
8. Bo Obama breaks off his lease and can’t get his nose out of Jim Lehr’s butt.
9. Romney tries desperately to relate to the everyday man and succeeds! Everyone is endeared to him as…
10. A glowing spaceship descends to take Romney to Kolob. A conga line of the former republican candidates with Obama at the tail shimmies on board. Everyone gets to meet Jesus!
Since everyone is talking about it and I have a vagina, so that means I am expert at being a woman, I have to chuck my 2 hay pennies into the roiling pot that is the internet’s reaction to Daniel Tosh.
Plenty of people have offered measured and thoughtful responses, like Curtis Luciani as well as the silly, like Louis CK’s tweet. He does have pretty eyes.
So as a vagina carrying stand-up comic, my take is that women aren’t funny but rape always is. As in let’s get back to talking about how ladies can’t crack or take a joke, and how feminism ruined everything good about the world.
What does the troll have to do with any of this? Nothing. It’s as irrelevant as this whole conversation. I just really like the fact that there is a Raphael Ninja Turtle Troll Doll who in my mind is also a wizard, because how could he not be?
- 7.7 hours spent sitting on a train trying to avoid any kid of eye contact with any of the other passengers. I resent you all and I want more than my allocated 16 inches of personal space that this train affords. There really should be arm rest dividers. At least on planes that keeps some of the fat contained on the the other side of the seat and not bleeding into my space and touching my thigh. Can you catch diabetes?
- A whole day spent trying not to be cynical. God, that was tough. I think that I might have actually herniated a disk holding in my contempt. Ideas – fffbbbpppttt.
- I am mostly kidding about the above. I love ideas, especially yours.
Posted in stats
Tagged lies, stats, truth
State Hospital Interior – Ed Kienholz, 1966
Before I left to go home, before I had to face the depression that has settled over my family, I had profuse and troubling dreams. Nights on night, I woke in a sweat. My shirt so wet I had to change it. My anxiety trying to bleed out through my pores.
One of these dreams had me in a dirty, monastic chamber with no decorations save the condensation rivulets carved into the caked dust on the walls. I was dying of AIDS, so weak I could not even turn myself from that filthy wall. So thirsty, but without the strength to drink and I was completely alone. There was only the dim hum of the oxygen machine, the only medical equipment in the room.
I woke up, shaking, wet, warm and so thankful that I could get up out of bed and quench my thirst.
It’s World AIDS Day today. I could barely think about this dream or articulate it last week, but today I want to have those who are suffering, waiting for the vaccine, for access to drugs and just hoping for some comfort in my heart and thoughts.
Posted in written
Tagged dreams, esp, lies
My cat has been unreasonably whiny since we relocated to our new and much larger place. I figured that she would get over crying for hours every morning at the door or at me in the shower, cooking, sleeping. But it’s been months and she is still crying. Ever the mournful cat, howling at the door to horrible freedom. Doesn’t she know, nothing but failed expectations lie behind that door?
What could possibly be troubling my cat? Is the shock of the new? The odor of the neighboring feline? Or something more sinister?
I’ve been troubled by dreams this week. Some full of familiar faces in strange situations. But the most troubling was a lucid dream I had about the presence Viktor. I knew that I was dreaming because I was sleeping on my back. I never sleep on my back. Ever. I could feel the cold descend on my arms and the goose hairs rise up, as Viktor settled down to “communicate” with me. Of course he wanted me to accomplish a task for him that he could not complete in life and even less so in death.
Then he moved down the bed and put pressure on my legs. The bed covers went taut and I could not move my legs. I knew I was dreaming. I knew it, despite how realistic everything in my room was down to the exact daylight.
“Look Viktor, if you want me to do anything for you, you are going to have to leave me the fuck alone while I am asleep or even just at home. I don’t want any of this ‘ghostly’ bullshit.”
The pressure released from my legs. I got up, put on my bathrobe and calmly walked out of my room.
So, could Viktor be bothering my cat in lieu of troubling me directly? I doubt the reality of that situation, but it makes more sense than the constant pain my cat seems to be in now that we are living in a veritable lap of luxury from our small Chinatown studio.