Sunday, September 2, 2012

Don't Worry, Be Happy ...

... that song annoys the piss out of me (Can I say that on here? Is piss a *bad* word?).

Another thing that annoys the piss (?) out of me is the movie Love Story. With Ryan O'Neal and Ali McGraw, 1970. I was 12 when it came out in the theaters, back when the price of a movie ticket was around 5 cents or something. No, seriously, I think way back when it cost all of a dollar to get in, and special discount matinees were maybe 50 cents.

Anyway, back in 1970 it was a real treat to see something in theaters that was not a Clint Eastwood western bloodbath, or a Charles Bronson vigilante bloodbath. And, since I was on the cusp of womanhood (whatever that is)(still waiting), a romantic though ridiculously tragic love story seemed like a pleasant change.

Boy, was I bored. All I can remember is Ali dying from leukemia about five minutes after they kissed/got engaged/whatever, and laying there in that phony hospital bed looking all pale & wan, uttering those famous eight words:
"Love means never having to say you're sorry".

Which was pretty confusing to a pubescent preteen. I was pretty sure my parents loved me, if not - at least they'd been faking it fairly well for over a decade. But, I was also pretty certain that if I knocked over the potted plant on the brand new carpeting (this happened), I'd better be saying "I'm sorry" or heads were gonna roll (mine).

Many years later, once I'd married, I also learned that if I set the new van on fire (this also happened)(stray cigarette cherry fell down inside the door panel) ... I'd better say I was sorry, or there was going to be a whole lot of uncomfortable silence later on at the dinner table.

See how simple things we adults understand and take for granted, can easily be confusing for kids? Love means never having to say you're sorry ...

Nuh uh.

So anyway, back to piss.

Which reminds me of water, which also reminds me of the broken pipe beneath my home Sunday morning. Luckily it was not too big of a deal (we heard the warning sound of water escaping under pressure) and my beloved children fixed it for me, with a fancy-schmancy new brass fitting. *YAY* for beloved, grown children!

And people wonder why I escape via fiction? Chee, no idea.

On a positive note, I am beyond ecstatic to report that the poison ivy is winding down, or the steroids are kicking in, or my body suddenly decided to fix things ... I dunno, but it's nice to look like only half a freak for a change.

With all the disgusting patches and swelling and scabs and blisters and rash, what I should've done was *roll* with it. I should have mashed one of those uncooked Poppin' Fresh biscuits into the back of my head, squirted on a dollop of ketchup, chewed up some black licorice and let the drool drip down onto my chin and staggered around moaning "braiiiiiiiiinnnzzzzzzzzz" in the parking lot of Wal-Mart.

:D :D :D

Just thinking about it makes me giggle! (I wouldn't have really done this)(not unless it was closer to Halloween) ... heh heh.

Another prank I've always wanted to do but probably never would (probably)(nothing in life is certain)(not a quote from Love Story) ... IS ... now, think about it, try and really picture what I'm fixing to describe ... get some of that nearly invisible, glow in the dark paint.

AND, with this paint, say - on the ceiling of the master bedroom of a home you have finally managed to sell ... have a good old time painting all kinds of psycho crap like:
Freddy was here
You're all gonna die
Amityville part two
Satan sleeps in this room
R.I.P. uncle Bob
... maybe add a few pentagrams or tetrahedrons or ghostly hand prints, etc.

I know it's not nice, and I would (probably) never do this. But I can't help imaging the look on the new owners' faces on the first night in their comfy bed in their brand new home. Staring up at that glowing ceiling from hell ...

Oh, my. The things you think up when you're bored.

There's something in the hard wiring of our brains that make us want to play phucknuts on our fellow man, not in a MEAN way, of course, - just ornery. I think all animals do this, some kind of built in *humor* neuron or what not. Maybe humor is nature's safety valve, an outlet to diffuse tensions before they build up to the point where we want to kill each other.

Instead of bombs, maybe the world would be a much better place if we instead dropped laughing gas on our *enemies*. Or a plane load of Three Musketeers Bars and Whoopee cushions!

The ability to appreciate and relate via *humorous absurdity* is one of God's more subtle gifts. I wish our world leaders recognized this.

Then nobody would have to die, and nobody would ever have to say they are sorry.







6 comments:

  1. Ya always have something hilarious for us to read, Mary! I think I'd like to be in your life for just a little while lol!

    I love that song by the way - the "Don't Worry Be Happy" one. It's such a classic!

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  2. Ana, *Hugs* ... trust me ... you do NOT want to ever, ever, EVER spend a day in my skin (at least, not until these stupid rashes go away);P

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  3. lol That would be pretty hilarious to watch the people run screaming into the night from their murder bedroom. :D I agree that laughter would be way more awesome to deal with our problems than bombs and guns. I'm glad you're getting better and your kids helped you with your water pipe. *hugs*

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  4. @Elizabeth - Wouldn't that rock?! We could set up chairs out on the lawn & sell tickets, maybe cold beverages if it was a hot summer night. ;D

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  5. I look forward to your posts each day and am so happy when I find a new one. I burst out laughing imagining you in Walmart! Also- I can totally understand where your thoughts came from about the glow in the dark paint! Glad the poison ivy is getting better and you are getting some relief. I cannot agree with you more about the line from Love Story. One of my college friends was always saying that to her boyfriend and it drove me up a wall. Especially considering she frequently wanted him to say he was sorry, just she felt she didn't need to. What? See- confusing! I loved your examples and agree that with the burning car- a sorry was a good start to getting out of trouble. :)

    Hope now that the pipe is fixed things will be better. HUGS!
    ~Jess

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  6. @Jess - if only. Today, the cord broke on the lawn mower (truth).
    We DID, however, get the shed fumigated - so that's something.
    Right now I'm taking a break from packing up books, in my anal retentive way, by placing them in fresh zippered baggies. Two totes down, seventeen thousand to go. ;D

    One of these daze I'll write an autobiography about my bewildering life story, if they will let me have a sharp pencil in the nut house.

    Hugs Galore <3

    Ps - You should've smacked your college friend. Right upside her pretentious head. Then started dating her boyfriend lol O>O

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