So, JennAdventures, a dishy Bostonian gal, memed me this here “Happiness” survey, and even though I don’t want to do it, I’m a weak-willed ladykiller, who can’t stand the thought of disappointing a woman (Vertically, that is. Horizontally, it’s every man for himself (“man” meaning “humanity,” not two dudes. (Not that there’s anything wrong with two men horizontally disappointing each other. It’s just not my cup of tea. (When I say “tea” I, of course, mean coffee, not tea or gay sex. I don’t drink tea unless I’m trying to quit coffee, which is about six times a year, and gay sex just isn’t my cup of coffee (unless it’s two gay women on the feminine end of the lesbian spectrum; then, I drop in two lumps and raise my cup in appreciation.)))))*
Anyway, I’m supposed to list ten things that make me so happy that if I were to fall into a vat of cow manure, I’d remain in its muck until said happy thing passed. However, since I independently came up with six in a previous post, I’ll list only four here, which will complete the ten but still make me feel like a rebel for doing it on my terms. On second thought, I think I’ll change the four to things that don’t make me happy. My mood is evenly dark right now and happy thoughts will only conflict with the stability.
1. Movie theaters are one of the only places on Earth that make me want to commit mass murder. Matinees are the way to go. Typically, the only other moviegoers in the mornings are single men or the elderly. Either way, both categories are deathly silent. They don’t answer their cell phones and text messaging is practically rocket science for people who wear their pants pulled to their chests. In the event I’m stuck in an evening show and surrounded by assholes, I take an unusual pleasure in appearing crazy-eyed and confrontational when hissing for quiet. It’s my road rage.
2. Sensational news media pretty consistently makes me hate as do the buffering commercials between segments. As far as I’m concerned, news has become gossip trash that does more damage than good. Case in point: When Michael Jackson died, guess what lost total news coverage. The Iranian protests. That was a sad two weeks to be an American not ‘cause MJ died, but because as a nation, “we” clearly chose the obsessive looping of a high-profile and scandalous death over the rape of democracy. It still bothers me. Commercials piss me off on general principles, but since I can’t make my case without sounding like a dissenting communist, I’ll just end my second bullet by saying that America is the devil.
3. Free samples at grocery stores are a mild pain in my ass. Like commercials, I don’t like being solicited to buy product, but because the solicitors are just peasants like me, how can I do anything but politely decline? It’s an elaborately contrived catch 22, and dumping a busty woman at the sample booth won’t change my mind either, you tricky marketing bastards. Granted, I’ll creepily linger for an extended period of time and maybe even flex a bicep or butt muscle a little harder as I read the expiration date of, say, a gallon of milk, but I won’t buy your product.
4. People who read (and enjoy) this blog but don’t leave comments make me want to grab a sickly child by the ankles and swing him around until the centrifugal discomfort spews his Spaghetti-Os like a goddamned tomato sauce sprinkler. I’ll do it too, silent readers. Is that what you want? **
*If you are a scorned woman with whom I've had carnal knowledge, please keep your fury in Hell where it belongs. This is a family blog.
**I encourage those of you who haven’t read my positive post to go there now. It’s my manic to this depressive, and I feel I’ve lost a little credibility by somewhat reverting to darkness in this one. Do it.