Huh.
I just read my last entry (shut up, I do too read this shit. Sometimes.). If you, or I guess me, edit out the stupid shit it’s kind of sweet. Comparatively. I mean I’ve been typing away like a little beaver today (that is like a wet fat flat tailed critter slapping at a keyboard) and the Box seemed to have gotten the nice one.
Facebook wasn’t so lucky but I had a facebook epiphany (that is like a wet fat flat tailed critter slapping at a keyboard epiphany). It went something almost exactly like this;
Oh.
Shit.
You know you need to go out and play more when you open your facebook page and say
Oh.
Shit.
Who are these people?
I also shared (shorn?) a photo, which I hardly ever do, I mean it’s like “Repost if you Agree!” Nope. But, you know, I didn’t know I was in the middle of an oh shit episode (as one never does, if one recognized an oh shit moment whilst having it the English language wouldn’t even need the word intervention) and I was at this pitbull rescue mission site and they wisely chose to eschew the sad dog photos for funny caption ones and there’s this old gray muzzled soft around the edges dog in a tweed hat and a sort of myopic look at the camera and the caption is something like “When I was a pup we only had one toy and it was just a stick”. That shit just never gets old.
More to the point of why the shock at box sweetness, I wrote three very long rants today and I might have posted them somewhere. Ok, more bad haredawg facebook behavior, and to be fair to haredawg he really doesn’t hang out on facebook doing things except bejeweled and because his page is always open and he’s not there he’s got chat turned off most of the time. He’d rather actively ignore than passively ignore ,that’s just how he rolls.
Anyhow.
Hmmm. Anyway?
Let’s lose the any and try again.
Way! So I joined this consumer advocacy group for vaping. Yeah. Fuck. As y’all probably were already aware (yet failed to warn me, knowing what a sucker I am, yeah, hold your breath for that Christmas present from me this year) it means I signed up for a specific high pitched bitch fest (as opposed to the more diffuse almost directionless bitchfest that is facebook proper). All three rants were related. The day before I even pulled poor dead hunter Thompson from out my ass and retold his retelling of LBJ and his esteemed opponent the Pig Fucker. If I haven’t told that story to you a thousand times --- um, pleased to meetcha, Haredawg Drools, See LBJ was running for governor of Texas … I think it’s in one of those collections like Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail.
Not to kill your buzz or anything but the point of the story and the point I was trying to make to the stump pounders “Let him stand up and declare I am Not A Pig Fucker!” It’s not really a subtle story and yet, I really shouldn’t need to repeat it more than once. So, either I got a problem or the tides of conventional wisdom have turned. I don’t know about the sexist part of this, but every boy learns at some point on the playground, the first one to call the other one a pig fucker loses. I’m sure that holds true for girls, but with boys I’m being pretty literal. You want that lesson to be something like the first one who loses his temper or the first one to get angry, and those are true too, but definitely the first one to call the other a pig fucker. It’s a sophisticated playground when you can get the loser to say pig fucker when referring to himself. I am not a pig fucker all of the sudden makes you a pig fucker and having lost the playground vote.
Although I haven’t mentioned a single vaping related issue I’ve pretty much summed up my work for the day. And, if I might be so bold, and I might, pretty much every article past present and future that will be addressed in that forum. I mean once the first pig fucking salvos have been exchanged there’s no longer any point in changing tactics, diplomacy, luncheon, you know. It’s just not that complicated. You fold your hands in your lap, smile beatifically, with grace and poise and watch the other guy go red in the face shouting about how many pigs he has NOT fucked. You could, I suppose, politely ask what he has against pigs, but it’s not necessary and you’d just be showing off and I’m pretty sure whatever the girl version of the playground lesson is ‘what do you have against pigs’ must surely come into play.
Wow. Where’d the day go?
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