Wah waaaaaaahhhhhh! Perhaps you're familiar with this phrase -- about feline aids. From Debbie Downer, one of my favorite SNL skits.
Other favorite lines:
"Steer clear of the Sudan. It makes Fallujah look like Club Med!" Wah waaaahhhh.
"By the way, it's official -- I can't have children." Wah waaaahhhhh.
"My life sucks, I have no money, I hate my job, and no one loves me." Waaaaahhh Waaaaahhhhh!
Oh wait, that last one wasn't from SNL. It was from one of my friends who's a regular Debbie Downer all on his own. Here are a couple more of the most recent quotes:
"I wrecked my car. It cost me $1,300. I'm just not equipped to handle crap like this."
"Do you ever just wanna give up and not even bother trying with this life crap?"
"I'm just feeling so overwhelmed and it doesn't feel like anyone is really here."
I know I should be more compassionate. But good lord, it gets to a point where you just can't take it anymore. If its not one thing, it's another. There's rarely a bright moment in this person's life. Damn, I'm getting depressed just writing about it.
"Slather up the sunscreen... I had a mole looked at recently and the doctor told me that due to the extent of its irregular borders I'm flirting with a melanoma." Whew... thanks for that Debbie. I needed a laugh. HA HA
Monday, February 04, 2008
Debating the Appropriate
There are lots of stories to tell in life. I'm best at telling them when they're about me! I don't mind letting my ass hang out there sometimes, baring my embarrassing moments for people to consume. But now that I'm thinking about my newly-created soap opera dialog, The Knots Landing of Rainbow Row, I'm finding myself hesitant to hang other peoples' asses out there.
For example, is it appropriate to blog about:
For example, is it appropriate to blog about:
- the lady that might be a pot dealer
- divorces and restraining orders
- crazy people
Friday, February 01, 2008
Mrs. Cratchett
Knots Landing of Rainbow Row -- Chapter One
After moving into the new house last year, I quickly learned that the neighbors are all super nice. And apparently, some are super nosey.
I was invited next door to a Cinco de Mayo party shortly after moving in to my place. A friend was over and we started the evening off right by having a few margaritas at my place before the two of us wandered next door to the neighbors' back yard. I had a decent buzz going, was feeling friendly and looking forward to meeting some new folks. Chuck and Gene have a beautiful space that's immaculately groomed, as it should be -- don't all gay couples have flawless taste and design style? The party was quite a bash with people from all over the neighborhood and beyond, an open bar, and lots of snacks. Most people seemed sufficiently loosened up by the tequila when my friend and I got there and we had fun meeting many of my immediate neighbors and having another drink or two.
One of them was named Sarah -- heretofore referred to as Mrs. Cratchett. Her home is across the street, kitty-corner to mine. My side of the street is on a slight slope, so our homes sit up on the top of a small hill. This allows for a nice view of the tops of the trees in the yards across the street. I have to look down slightly to see their houses over there. Well apparently its easier for them to look up at us on this side.
"Todd, meet Sarah" Gene says, introducing me to Mrs. Cratchett.
"Oh, so you're the new guy eh?" she says, shaking my hand with one hand, holding her margarita with the other. I can see the fog of alcohol in her eyes and knew she was feeling pretty good. "Just so you know," she continues, "I sometimes stay up late at night, watching TV in my front room, so I've got a great view of your house. I can see when people are coming and going -- you know, for the booty calls." She grins.
I laugh and replied, "Well, unfortunately, no booty calls yet."
Her response was dead pan: "I know."
Damn Mrs. Cratchett!
After moving into the new house last year, I quickly learned that the neighbors are all super nice. And apparently, some are super nosey.
I was invited next door to a Cinco de Mayo party shortly after moving in to my place. A friend was over and we started the evening off right by having a few margaritas at my place before the two of us wandered next door to the neighbors' back yard. I had a decent buzz going, was feeling friendly and looking forward to meeting some new folks. Chuck and Gene have a beautiful space that's immaculately groomed, as it should be -- don't all gay couples have flawless taste and design style? The party was quite a bash with people from all over the neighborhood and beyond, an open bar, and lots of snacks. Most people seemed sufficiently loosened up by the tequila when my friend and I got there and we had fun meeting many of my immediate neighbors and having another drink or two.
One of them was named Sarah -- heretofore referred to as Mrs. Cratchett. Her home is across the street, kitty-corner to mine. My side of the street is on a slight slope, so our homes sit up on the top of a small hill. This allows for a nice view of the tops of the trees in the yards across the street. I have to look down slightly to see their houses over there. Well apparently its easier for them to look up at us on this side.
"Todd, meet Sarah" Gene says, introducing me to Mrs. Cratchett.
"Oh, so you're the new guy eh?" she says, shaking my hand with one hand, holding her margarita with the other. I can see the fog of alcohol in her eyes and knew she was feeling pretty good. "Just so you know," she continues, "I sometimes stay up late at night, watching TV in my front room, so I've got a great view of your house. I can see when people are coming and going -- you know, for the booty calls." She grins.
I laugh and replied, "Well, unfortunately, no booty calls yet."
Her response was dead pan: "I know."
Damn Mrs. Cratchett!
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