I just finished looking through some blogs that have the uncanny power to not only enlighten and entertain, but also leave me feeling completely.......less. Less than them. Which is dumb, because I don't want to be them, or live them's lives or even experience most of what them experience. Nonetheless, I feel......less.
Which is why I like to watch Toddlers and Tiaras.
On account of you could cuff your children's wrists and lock them inside a feces strewn bird cage, and STILL feel you're an exceptional parent, compared to the WHAT THE HELL! going on with that show.
Speaking of mothers and mullets, came upon an old classmate from elementary school on social media. Long ago, on rainy days, the boys used to chase terrified, screaming girls with bloodsuckers (worms, really, but it looked like they were filled up with blood, thus the graphic nickname that lent horror to the experience.) We'd flee into the girls' bathroom to take refuge.
Enter the "mostly a boy" girl, who would grab a handful of bait and come busting through the doors, bringing with her all that is vile and unholy! She'd stand there in her Tuff Skin jeans and untucked plaid shirt and laugh like a freakin' maniac while the girls huddled in a, "TELL MY MOTHER I LOVE HER!" pile of weep and sob.
I can't remember what happened next. Maybe the bell. Maybe a teacher's intervention. Maybe I passed out and she stomped on my face. Hard to say. But what I do know is this—she was a force to be reckoned with. And I'm grateful the worms were the only thing she ever wielded against me. I'm sure she's a lovely person now—likely just reacting to trials and traumas in her own young life. Or maybe she just liked the feel of a bloodsucker in her fist. Either way, it's all good.
Which reminds me for no good reason of my poor son who is experiencing his own ordeal in taking the acne medicine Accutane. Looks like his face has been hammered with a meat tenderizer, and it's not going to be over anytime soon. But it's one of those "greater good" experiences, friends. Hideously disfigured now, chick magnet arm candy later.
Well, enough of my train of thought. The conductor is heading to bed...