I'm not feeling particularly cunty today. Thought you should know.
Grad school app prep, trying to read some important nonfiction. God, Joan Didion is tops. Also, she kind of makes me want to jump off a bridge - figuratively. Let's not have some well-meaning assholes calling hotlines on my behalf, because seriously? I don't answer calls from 800 numbers or anything with "Assoc" in the identification.
(You can fuck off, alma mater. In the same way I didn't "need" climate control in my dorm room, you also don't "need" butt warmers for your multimillion-dollar lacrosse stadium.)
I digress.
So, like I said 14 paragraphs ago, this book and my overwhelming diligence are making me mellow, reflective, serious.
*Stares out window, dramatically contemplates meaning of bluebirds*
When this is all over and I obviously get accepted on my first try to this ridiculously competitive program, I'll be very busy sewing elbow patches onto all my corduroy blazers. I might even sew some onto the curtains, so everyone walking by the house will know how smart I am.
Then, I'm going to go to all your blogs and correct all your spelling and grammar mistakes. No need to thank me. Really, that's why I am going to graduate school.
Well, that, and to lose the ability to use a fax machine.
See? I'm so boring.
Good thing Phubby is entertaining. On with the funny!
Background: discussing funny story BFF told me about watching Paranormal Activity, wherein the word "demon" is mentioned, and BFF declares to her hubby, "Peace out. I'll be in the living room. Come get me when it's over." Later, BFF's hubby says to her something like, "It's not too bad. The only part that is a little scary is when you kind of see the demon."
PHubby: Kind of see the demon?
Me: I know, right?!
PHubby: (imitating BFF's hubby) "Oh, honey, it's not scary. You just see a demon eating some babies ..."
Me: "...Peeing on pictures of Jesus, making children's heads spin ..."
PHubby: "Torturing the disabled."
*pause*
Me: "Torturing the disabled?!"
PHubby: What?
Me: (laughing at him by now) How does that just pop into your head?
PHubby: (too defensively) What?! Torturing the disabled is really mean! *pause* (gives me condescending "duh" look) Like something a demon would do?
How could I argue with that?
Nice blog. Can you sew a couple of elbow patches onto the chests of all my white undershirts? That would be cool.
ReplyDeleteI'll sew all the leg holes shut on your undies.
ReplyDeleteReprehensible...cold...unscrupulous... callous... heinous... this post was all of those things...
ReplyDeleteand I love it that way...
Cunty is such a beautiful word. Top effort!
ReplyDeleteOrganic Meatbag - Do you remember Louie DePalma from "Taxi?" You could have been quoting him.
ReplyDeleteMr. Street, why, thank you! My favorite word in your latest post? Pyjamas. It's a better word with a "y." Brits are better at everything. Except war, and that kind of counts in your favour. (I used a "u.")
You learn all kinds of life skills in Grad School, including how to write one paper for two different classes by creatively combining topics. Also: Paranormal Activity is freaking scary. I almost peaced out when they mentioned demons, too, but stayed and watched -- disabled torturing and all.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Amanda! Alas, I have a feeling your advice won't help me. It is a writing program.
ReplyDeleteOn Halloween, Hubby and I watched the. worst. horror. movie. ever made. "Wicked Little Things" is about these children who got trapped in a mine and died back in the day. Now, they roam (because somehow they can now get out of the mine) the forest as zombie children, seeking out the flesh of the descendants of the mine owner. Yup.