Given the depths of my life lately, (I seem to vaciliate between utter boredom at work with nothing to do and being to depressed to actually attempt talking to others) I have taken to finding my entertainment among the internet personal ads of a certain location. Oh, you laugh now, but I tell you — you just don’t know what you’re missing until you’ve tapped INTO this well of comedy gold!

Just take this guy for instance, who introduces himself as such:

let me see, maybe i should use some of the words of my ex’s…i am, immature, insensitive,never serious, always late, usually sarcastic, light complected, tooo picky, and have a problem with committment…other than that, im physically fit, funny as he11 and im never boreing…

Some how the logic of this is lost on me…he goes on..

ignorance bores me, personality is the most attractive quality, i am more atracted to athletic women, personality will not overcompensate for a THIRD EYE, or an extra finger, looks do count for something…i can overlook poor spelling skills, as you can see..

Well at least he’s consistant. All of his photos showed him surrounded by a bevy of lovely young ladies.
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Let me just interject some thoughts before giving Witchy back the stage again (isn’t she a great writer?).

I had to go to a wake yesterday (not the soldier FROM Iraq, this one is a friend’s mother… since it comes in threes, most people at work wouldn’t be surprised if I’m going to be #3, so it all has me thinking about my own mortality, and why I keep seeing the Reaper every time I go to the convenience store for a soda refill & cigarettes.).

So after work, I’m picked up where we immediately drive to California* to the wake.
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I swear to God people are going to start thinking I’m making this shit up.

But I’m not. Unfortunately.

The last year and a half have moved like a blur through the penciled lines of my life. No longer does my consciousness ebb in and out in tidal waves of disbelief or stunned amazement. No, we have finally reached the dimensions of pure surreality. There is no possible way this much bad shit happens to a family in such a short amount of time.

I’m trying not to be petty, realizing that much worse tragedies arise than mine in this world. But the stress of one constant blow after another is beginning to wear away the rock of my emotional resistance.
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Jenna Bush Sticks Tongue Out at News Photographers - Now, I’m really not keen at targeting presidential kids. I found it loathsome when our pillpopping-divorcing-his-third-wife paragon of virtue, values and morality Rush Limbaugh picked up a photo of a very insecure 13 year old Chelsea Clinton and called her “The White House dog”.

God damn… some things should just be off-limits.

Now you say, “then why are you doing THIS you fucking hypocrite?”. Well, moron, why don’t you let me finish before you pass judgment, ok asshole?

First of all, I think the Bush twins are kinda hot (they’re 22, I can say that). But do you get the impression that Jenna doesn’t want to be doing this? I’ve seen several photos of her and Barbara on the campaign trail… and in each of them they look like they’d rather be doing something else instead of being dragged across the countryside by their dad to meet fat, ugly middle Americans with missing teeth, smell like mothballs and being touched by their kids whom you can only pray have most of their shots…

(I know you were expecting me to say “…like hit a bar?”. Shut up. Like I said, I said, I’m not INTO taking potshots at them.) Point is… they REALLY don’t seem thrilled. It’s like me dragging my daughters around town to shop for new golf clubs. Those poor girls must be bored silly.
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Man, I hate shaving.
People think I use a cheese grater.

What the hell was I thinking back when I was 14?
“OOH! I can’t wait till I’m a grown up and I can grow a beard! Hell, Some Spanish girls on the block already have moustaches… and they’re only 11!”

“I’m gonna lather my face up, I’ll shave… and then splash my face with Aqua Velva and scream like that kid FROM Home Alone*.”

(*Yes. Home Alone came out 10 years later. I’m a prophet and can see the future. Don’t question me.)

Tonight, I decided to take a shortcut… I put Nair on my face. Just the parts around the goatee that I normally slice up and bleed like Charles Manson was my barber.

HOLY FUCKING SHIT MOTHER OF JEBUS!!!!!! I HAVE 15TH DEGREE BURNS!!!!
I turn to the side and I can see parts of my exposed jawbone!

How many of you women come to this site… and NONE of you can warn me that Nair burns like hell???? The smell of burning flesh took me back to when I had my hair permed at 19 (Don’t ask. It was 1984. My friends all had Jhericurls back then, ok?).

UPDATE It’s an hour later… I’m loaded on morphine, and I feel a little better.
Just one question…

How long until I stop looking like I just walked through an Apache line of gay guys bitchslapping me? I can’t go to work like this??!!??