Another One Rides the Short Bus

There is nothing wrong with coming home after a long, hard, day with a bottle of gas station Merlot, squeezing booty shorts over my fat @ss, crawling into bed and drinking the gas station nectar from the bottle while eating cold condensed Cream of Mushroom soup out of the can with a fork ...... I can't believe you actually believe that, that would be absurd.... of course I used a spoon.

But I do think it is wrong that, when I am in my comfy place and wallowing in my tears of discontent for what my life has become and I decide to take my mind off of things by starting an intellectual conversation about how unfortunate it is that the Accordion had ONE chance to be cool and Weird Al ruined it... and my conversation gets trumped by SSDP**, who starts listing off every song Weird Al ever recorded. (ALMOST every song... he forgot "I Think I'm a Clone Now", but who can blame him, that song was YEARS before it's time). He didn't even go to the internet. It was like his brain had been waiting for this moment since 1983 and had every song waiting in some horrible synapse queue just waiting to rapid fire.

You live with someone 7 years and think you have a firm grasp on who you think they are and *WHAM* one day you learn he is Weird Al's #1 fan. The only way I know to cope with this insanity is to open another can of soup.

**SSDP = Subliminally Silent Domestic Partner (he could use a shorter name)

All the good jokes are Argon

First, they tell me Pluto is not a planet, then the Food Pyramid turns into a plate and NOW there are 2 new elements on the Periodic Table. Next, they are going to find proof that Iowa exists.

I think midgets are dancing in my peripheral vision, but I can't be certain

Two days ago my eye decided to take on a life of its own. It was like it had been secretly working out with the Shake Weight while I was sleeping and became a huge, buff monster over night. I decided to do what any sane person would do in this situation, I went online and started diagnosing. I was able to immediately rule out meningitis, an Indonesian Parasite and the clap. To my horror, I was not able to rule out bugs laying eggs in my eye lid and pink eye. The internet became overwhelming with information as soon as I saw the words "lance" and "drain". Those are two words that should never be associated with the eyeball. I decided that I either have a Stye or the rapture actually happened last week and the plagues were starting.

I began getting worried that I would have to live the rest of my life in with Uni-Vision. The "camera one, camera two" game that I amuse my self with 8 hours a day every now and then, would be a thing of the past. I might have to answer to "cyclops" the rest of my life.

Thank goodness I work with such knowledgeable people that could not take another day looking at my grotesque eye truly wanted to help me.

Coworker: My mom used to use Boric Acid
Me: My mom always told me to keep things that ended in "acid" away from my eye.
CW: No seriously... she mixed it with water and it worked.
Me: The only thing I know to use Boric Acid for is to kill roaches, which I guess, without a proper diagnosis, could really take care of my 2 leading ideas.
CW: If you have bug eggs in your eye, I am not your friend anymore.
Me: You are trying to get me to put Acid in my eye (and not the fun kind)... sounds like you are already not my friend.

I lived in the south long enough to know that some things that sound crazy, can often be REALLY good advice. I spent my 20's standing on my head and I never once ended up pregnant. Regrettably, I stepped on a lot of cracks and my dad had back surgery 3 years ago. I spent 5 years eating Apple Jacks EVERYDAY and it really did keep the doctor away. Don't get me wrong.... I am not trying to make a case that I should be pouring Boric Acid in my eye, but thinking about all these Old Wives Tales does bring to question that whole myth about masturbation causing blindness. Given my current eye situation, maybe this is just how it starts. *just saying*