Make a note, people.
Cheap champagne equals a headache.
Pretty sure I have made that note a few times before . . . stupid lame-ass organizational system I got going on over here.
I do have a note here on my desk that has caught my attention.
It says . . .
Joe plunged his eyes were eager to give oral.
What’s that about, you think? I do not know anyone named Joe, but whoever Joe is . . . he is all fucked up where the notion of oral is concerned. I am giggling hysterically at the notion of Joe and his eager oral eyes.
Joe! What the fuck are you doing, Joe? With your eyes, babe? Really?
Joe is silent and eager.
Joe! Stop fluttering your eyelashes at me!
Joe is silent and eager-eyed.
Joe! Stop looking at me that way! We need to talk, babe. With our mouths.
Snort!
It’s January 1st.
People are all fucking inspiring on January 1st. All filled with resolutions and promises and pledges of improvement.
Yeah.
Fuck that.
This is pretty much as good as I get.
I see where improvement could be made, but I am not inclined to improve.
Fuck that.
One time, we were stuck in Bay Area traffic of the nightmarish sort. Crawling along at about 2-3 miles per hour, all four of us crabby at being trapped in the car. Nothing to see ahead of us but miles of red brake lights.
At this rate? We are hours from home.
Sigh.
Five lanes of traffic, all so tightly pinned together that there is no switching of lanes . . . we just crawl along together.
We stare angrily at all of the drivers and all of the passengers who are ahead of us.
And then suddenly?
There is an elderly man running through the slow-motion traffic. He has simply leaped from the passenger side of a car perhaps 200 feet ahead of us, and he is sprinting to the side of the freeway. Five lanes of traffic, nobody moving . . .
We all watch the man. What the hell is he doing?
Perhaps he has to pee?
But there is such a weird sense of panic to his flight from the car. I see the people in the cars around us searching for an explanation . . .
Is someone chasing him?
Is he running to something that we can’t see?
Is he chasing something?
He is now scaling the embankment of iceplant, climbing up the steep hill that lines the freeway. He is clearly panicked and excited. What the hell?
Maj and Kallan are fascinated. They think he is chasing a dog that somehow escaped into traffic. They swear they saw a puppy run up the iceplant hill.
So we stare at the man. Our car is still not moving, and we stare at the man.
All of the people in all of the cars around us stare at the man.
We are all trapped in our cars, and we wait for this man to entertain us.
Is there a puppy?
Is he being chased?
Is he insane?
Don’t the people in the car from which he leapt care about him?
What is going on?
He scrambles higher up the hill until he reaches a small palm tree.
A very small solitary palm tree in the middle of the iceplant.
He has to squat to fit himself below the tree.
As he squats he . . . lowers his pants.
And makes shit happen.
Literally.
We stare at him.
All of the families in all of the cars stare at him.
And then the man looks up.
Sees us all staring at him.
It is as though he is on a stage . . . halfway up a lush green hill, framed against a small palm tree . . . before a captive and captivated audience.
My hope for 2011?
That I can make shit happen without getting caught with my pants down.
But just in case? I carry tissue with me wherever I go.
Because from what I could tell?
Iceplant is a poor wiping substitute.
Snort!
I’m pretty sure Julie can help you out with that.
Julie always has my back.
Always.
Nothing. I’ve got nothing. Just, uhm. Yeah. Shit. In front of all those people? Well. That scares me. You, Kris? Do not. You’ll be making some good shit happen this year and I can’t wait to see it. Wait, eeewwww.
Yay for making good shit happen this year!
You will not be able to believe the shit I can make happen! Wait until you see this shit!
Wait . . . that does sound icky.
Snort!
Yeah, iceplant wouldn’t even be in my top 10.
Here’s to making shit happen!
How fabulous is it that you can imagine a top ten list of . . .
THINGS WITH WHICH YOU WOULD CARE TO WIPE YOUR ASS
That is fucking awesome!
And yes.
Here’s to making shit happen!
I will drink to that.
Sticking with my one-beer-per-night policy from now on, though.
Ack to crappy champagne.
Ack.
I think that would be a valuable list to make. That way you could ensure that you always had at least one of the items with you at any one time. Unless of course you filled the top 10 positions with things such as “Mountain goat”, which is clearly impractical to carry around with you. It also seems impractical to wipe your arse with one, but I don’t like to judge.
Ben, you make me snort with laughter.
I would like to carry you around with me so that you can just say random things and make me giggle hysterically.
Maybe I’ll put you on my list.
Snort!
1) I have never seen one of your posts without comments. I am shocked. Not expecting firsties in any way, because you have other psycho suck-ups for that (does that count as alliteration?) but I still feel like my world has just changed. :)
2) My only New Year’s resolution is to get this baby OUT. Yes, we have reached that point in the pregnancy. Where that is my one and only goal. Forget being a good mom or getting the baby room set up. OUT. And there’s still 6 weeks more to go!
3) I am pregnant and therefore my brain is wired all weird, so I am still somehow vaguely concerned for the non-existent puppy. Yes, I am aware there never was one. Don’t ask me how that works.
4) Your conclusion! Awesomeness!
Happy New Year!
1) New Year’s Day is not a big day for blog reading, I am guessing. But as I post every day? Here I am . . . like a psycho.
2) I remember that feeling of wanting the baby OUT. Yeah, that was not fun. That’s an excellent resolution, because it will absolutely happen! Whether or not you change your mind about the whole OUT thing. Snort!
3) The puppy was fine.
4) Thank you! And Happy New Year!
Good luck this last 6 weeks.
It’s a long 6 weeks.
Ack.
Not saying YOU are a psycho. You are a wonderful gift and your posts are a gift. But some of your commenters… Which I realize is a category that includes me. Since I’m here on New Year’s too. :)
Hadn’t thought about the fact that I will achieve my resolution, no matter what. Go me! It is now official. So next year I will tell people I achieved ALL of my resolutions. It will be awesome!
Thank you for the reassurance aboutthe non-existent puppy. :)
I am a little bit of a psycho.
I totally own my psycho status.
Anyone here on Pretty All True on New Year’s Day with me?
Also a little bit of a psycho.
Pretty All Sure.
Snort!
Making good shit happen in your life? Awesome.
Shitting on the side of the freeway? So very disturbing.
Yes . . . that’s my plan exactly.
To be awesomely disturbing.
Go, ME!
I’m reading this on the toilet as we speak.
Hang on.
*nnnnnngngnnng*
Ah. Much better.
Happy New Year!
You always get it right, babe.
Much love and shit to you.
Happy New Year!
BWAHAHAAHA!!
OHMYGAWD!!!
My brain went into the gutter (as it does so easily really) with your title and read along the first bit thinking of how good you are that you are content with your life and how I’d love to be with mine…
Nope, not looking for sympathy just a wee bit of envy.
THEN an old guy ran up the embankment and I so didn’t expect the ending!!
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!
Kris, this is why I read you – you never do the usual.
I freakin’ love it!
Merry New Years Babe!
Keep it up!
M
ps- maybe that note was a horror porn story you wanted to start?!?!
Hee hee!
I do like to start in the gutter and then end up halfway up an embankment with an old man taking a shit.
That’s just how my brain works.
It’s all usual for me.
Merry New Year right back at you!
And I have no idea where that note came from.
Maybe Mark knows.
Snort!
Ha!
My goal for 2011?
To be able to see a man shitting under a tree on the side of the highway and deduce that I should strive to get shit done without getting caught with my pants down.
If your goal is to be more like me?
Prepare for complications.
Snort!
I am not without complications of my own.
Just ask my husband.
Rather than saying I would like to be more like you (or anyone for that matter) I prefer to say I would like to be more insightful.
Not everyone can find meaning in a man shitting on a highway.
Very deep shit, dude.
Very deep shit, dude?
I am all giggly.
I love this new insightful you!
Swoon!
We made goofy resolutions mostly. And we made resolutions for the dogs. Like “stop barking so much it’s annoying” or “stop eating shit cause that’s so sick and we don’t want to smell your shit breath anymore.”
My only serious-ish resolution is to blog more. I was on a roll until I had to be evacuated mid-dissertation fieldwork and my life got all crazbo. I’ve been in a slump so I’m resolved to fix it! Like you, I blog for myself mostly and your commitment of blogging everyday has inspired me. I still won’t do it every day but more often than once a month.
If life gets all crazbo?
I love that word . . . crazbo.
If life gets crazbo, you let the less necessary things fall away.
I’m glad that things are calm enough that you will be blogging more!
Yay!
Send me links!
Through all that shit, shitting and awesome shit?
I’m still stuck on the plunged eyes. All I can visualize is little miniature potty plungers. Eyeball sized.
This will haunt me all night. I no longer have a desire to contemplate resolutions.
How handy!
” I couldn’t think of any resolutions cause all I could think of were eye plungers plunging Joe’s eyes. Sorry”
Yes. That will work.
OK, now I am imagining Joe with small plungers for eyes.
And guess what?
That could so work!
Snort!
God, I miss the Bay Area. We only get scary rednecks in Texas, not guys like that.
Portland is great, but the Bay Area?
A special kind of crazy.
Definitely.
omg. How come I never see all these weird things. I mean I’ve seen guys on the side of the road who are relieving themselves but not too obviously. And you don’t see anything.
but nothing like this.
But I do like your resolution. My resolutions are usually things like give up smoking and eating liver. Because I do neither. Then if I have any time left, I might try to exercise or something. Yeah, if I have time.
OK, more recently?
We witnessed another rather spectacular relieving.
I must travel in all the right kinds of circles.
Snort!
Yeah . . . I don’t like resolutions.
No way I am going to do any of that shit.
So why pretend.
Seriously.
Your circles are definitely more interesting than mine lol!
Can I make a resolution not to make resolutions. Or does that make it redundant?
Though I did see a tweet from a guy who wanted to open a gym called Resolutions – it would be a gym for about a week, then turn into a bar. Seemed like a great idea to me :)
Oh, that gym?
That’s perfect!
I love that!
McLean Hospital in Belmont, MA has a special program where they dissect donated brains that are somehow a little different from others. I can’t emphasize enough how important it is that you fill out the required paperwork.
Short of that, perhaps a real-time MRI might reveal what synapses are misfiring that allow you to get from Joe Oral Eyes to Old Man in the Bushes.
Meanwhile, think I’ll just laugh my head off, if that’s permissible.
Ms. Kris, they destroyed the mold after you.
Or at least, for humanity’s sake, I hope they did!
<3
My brain is staying in my head unexamined, thank you very much.
If you laugh your head off?
They can take a look at your brain, silly man.
As for the other?
I hope I am one of a kind . . . I would be annoyed to discover a twin.
Very annoyed.
I always, always, always have some form of tissue in the car or in my pocket. Just for emergencies. You never know when you will need them.
The glove box in the car? Full of napkins from various restaurants.
Yes, I am a napkin thief.
And I have to ask… Who is Lisa and why isn’t she a fan??
Who do I need to go beat up?
Hee hee!
No beating up required.
Lisa showed up on yesterday’s post, and she and I don’t see eye to eye.
That’s a bummer.
She was apparently unaware I am a giant bitchy pain in the ass about certain things.
Oh well.
Shit happens!
Yes, it occasionally does.
Snort!
ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaa timing is everything ahahahahahahahahahaaaaa
It so is.
I tell Mark that all the fucking time.
Love you!