i got yer to-do list right here!
life can be frustrating in the extreme sometimes.
no. 2 is having relapses with potty training, which i think are more likely the result of sheer laziness (no idea where he gets it) rather than any other more logical reason.
no. 1 has declared himself no. 2's "dictator for life and sole commander in chief" as well as "double agent and informant" to the parental units. he likes it when no. 2 is in trouble as it deflects some of the heat from himself. when we are mad at no. 2, no. 1 is ingratiating in the extreme to us. this drives me fucking batty. know why? cause i did the same fucking thing when i was a kid!!
for the first time since i took my return ferry ride across river styx to go back to work at the pizza joint, my tips were good last night. i have been working there now for two months, and most of the nights have sucked. my boss continues to be twaterrific and cuntacular in ways that boggle the normal mind and can only be explained by a massive case of sociopathic and criminal genius. beelzebub pales by comparison...
my back is still stiff and crusty from the latest three-hour stint at flaming dragon. seems to be healing up faster this time though. soon as it heals, i will get a pic posted here, i promise.
then when i sign in, i notice that one of the previous blogs of note is going to be made into a book. that is cool. it lends me hope that someone will stumble across this moldy crumb stuck in the world wide web and think, this guy is brilliant (sorry, give me a sec, choked on my coffee... ok, think i am bett-- no, wait, laughing fit coming on. there, ok.) and hand me a book deal.
wait, what? this is a book of other people's to-do lists? emailed in to the author? they're gonna publish a book about other's to-do lists? you know, the only, and i mean fucking onliest blog of note that ever ever spoke to me, and had anything of import to myself, is sparx' blog.
and now this blog of other people's ideas (and i am dubious as to how interesting most of them are going to be) is getting published. (yes, yes it is sour grapes. i happen to like sour grapes. now, let me have my sour grapes, continue laughing with, at, or near me, and let me get on with it, heh heh. thank you.)
i guess i will have to continue with my original plan of cultivating a healthy drinking habit, writing prolifically barely-understandable drivel interlaced with the occasional witty little anecdote (to keep you hanging on, o beloved non-existant readers), hide all these writings in plain site (while constantly pointing them out to my kids and saying things like, "thish ish going to be your legacy, sonsh. thish right here ish gonna make ush rich one day. right here! look, goddammit you ungrateful lil bashtardsh! here. and the password is tangueray."), then die of pneumonia or some other malingering alcohol-related disease that has a certain romanticism to it, after which the kids will get my crap published everywhere and i will be hailed as a "great american (god i fucking hate that, we are yanks, america is a huge fucking place. why the fuck do we get to call ourselves american and everyone else calls themselves canadian or mexican or what-have-you?!? goddamn we are pretentious fucks! end rant.) author."
(now, it seems a few of my beloved non-existant readers occasionally take things i write here waaaaay too seriously. (or who knows? maybe they don't and i mistake their dry-humor retorts as serious. either way.) so i leave this disclaimer: the vast majority of the above paragraph is a play-by-play of how most of my favorite authors went about it. i've no intention of going about it in that manner. thank you for your time.)
follows is my to-do list:
1) clean house
2) beat children
3) lose mind
4) buy gin
5) write piss-poor prose through veil of gin-scented tears
6) glower at boss and mutter evil-sounding things under my breath when he is present
7) go swimming naked in a downpour
8) do not scratch back, do NOT scratch back, do NOT scratch back
9) sleep in gutter
10) toss pizzas in bag, leave store, drive, return to store, repeat
11) show kids location of folder of writing, as well as journals
12) buy voodoo doll resembling creators of blogspot (not that i was ever gonna, but kiss any chance of becoming a "blog of note" good-bye now)
thanks for playing along.
darth sardonic
no. 2 is having relapses with potty training, which i think are more likely the result of sheer laziness (no idea where he gets it) rather than any other more logical reason.
no. 1 has declared himself no. 2's "dictator for life and sole commander in chief" as well as "double agent and informant" to the parental units. he likes it when no. 2 is in trouble as it deflects some of the heat from himself. when we are mad at no. 2, no. 1 is ingratiating in the extreme to us. this drives me fucking batty. know why? cause i did the same fucking thing when i was a kid!!
for the first time since i took my return ferry ride across river styx to go back to work at the pizza joint, my tips were good last night. i have been working there now for two months, and most of the nights have sucked. my boss continues to be twaterrific and cuntacular in ways that boggle the normal mind and can only be explained by a massive case of sociopathic and criminal genius. beelzebub pales by comparison...
my back is still stiff and crusty from the latest three-hour stint at flaming dragon. seems to be healing up faster this time though. soon as it heals, i will get a pic posted here, i promise.
then when i sign in, i notice that one of the previous blogs of note is going to be made into a book. that is cool. it lends me hope that someone will stumble across this moldy crumb stuck in the world wide web and think, this guy is brilliant (sorry, give me a sec, choked on my coffee... ok, think i am bett-- no, wait, laughing fit coming on. there, ok.) and hand me a book deal.
wait, what? this is a book of other people's to-do lists? emailed in to the author? they're gonna publish a book about other's to-do lists? you know, the only, and i mean fucking onliest blog of note that ever ever spoke to me, and had anything of import to myself, is sparx' blog.
and now this blog of other people's ideas (and i am dubious as to how interesting most of them are going to be) is getting published. (yes, yes it is sour grapes. i happen to like sour grapes. now, let me have my sour grapes, continue laughing with, at, or near me, and let me get on with it, heh heh. thank you.)
i guess i will have to continue with my original plan of cultivating a healthy drinking habit, writing prolifically barely-understandable drivel interlaced with the occasional witty little anecdote (to keep you hanging on, o beloved non-existant readers), hide all these writings in plain site (while constantly pointing them out to my kids and saying things like, "thish ish going to be your legacy, sonsh. thish right here ish gonna make ush rich one day. right here! look, goddammit you ungrateful lil bashtardsh! here. and the password is tangueray."), then die of pneumonia or some other malingering alcohol-related disease that has a certain romanticism to it, after which the kids will get my crap published everywhere and i will be hailed as a "great american (god i fucking hate that, we are yanks, america is a huge fucking place. why the fuck do we get to call ourselves american and everyone else calls themselves canadian or mexican or what-have-you?!? goddamn we are pretentious fucks! end rant.) author."
(now, it seems a few of my beloved non-existant readers occasionally take things i write here waaaaay too seriously. (or who knows? maybe they don't and i mistake their dry-humor retorts as serious. either way.) so i leave this disclaimer: the vast majority of the above paragraph is a play-by-play of how most of my favorite authors went about it. i've no intention of going about it in that manner. thank you for your time.)
follows is my to-do list:
1) clean house
2) beat children
3) lose mind
4) buy gin
5) write piss-poor prose through veil of gin-scented tears
6) glower at boss and mutter evil-sounding things under my breath when he is present
7) go swimming naked in a downpour
8) do not scratch back, do NOT scratch back, do NOT scratch back
9) sleep in gutter
10) toss pizzas in bag, leave store, drive, return to store, repeat
11) show kids location of folder of writing, as well as journals
12) buy voodoo doll resembling creators of blogspot (not that i was ever gonna, but kiss any chance of becoming a "blog of note" good-bye now)
thanks for playing along.
darth sardonic
Labels: my kids are crazy, ranting is good for the heart, sanity is for the weak-minded
posted by darth sardonic at 8:18 AM
10 Comments:
Yep brill list, should have no problem finding a publisher....
even though i don't like your gin choice, I prefer Bombay Sapphire, just so's you know.
pxx
haha ty pixie. i like bombay sapphire as well, and should we ever find ourselves drinking gin together, would have bombay as opposed to tangueray.
Twaterrific? Cuntacular? Dude, you're a word wizard. If any blogger deserves a book, it's you, and I'm not just whistlin' dixie. (Don't know if that's a fitting phrase, but it sounded good at the time.)
Not that my blog is publish-worthy, but I too am amazed at what sees the light of publishing day, while other much more brilliant writers are ignored. I feel your pain, Darth, and love reading your words :o)
BJ
Darth, I think the book you should be writing is a book of insults. Your paragraph about your boss is superb.
queeny: lol ty so much. and whistlin dixie seems a very fitting phrase.
blogget: ty and i love reading your words as well. (else you wouldn't be in my pals list)
wuastc: guaranteed that when i finish the magnum crappus many will find themselves painted in a less-than-flattering light. no doubt others will find themselves painted out of soft pastels and feel i made them out to be saints.
Too funny. Except you forgot that most of the greats either seem to develop mental illness such as depression or phobias or manage to become addicted to whatever designer drug is around. Oh wait, that would be gin right?
Good post.
z-it just might be, and 'sides, i am already fucking crazy.
Great list - and thanks for the prod! I am so shite at the moment though. Perhaps not cuntacular but pretty rubbish at blogging and commenting and all that...
lol sparx, it's part of being a stay-home parent, your energy ebbs n flows in a way it never has and probably never will again. i feel so unmotivated sometimes to blog, comment, im with my friends, it's strange. and cuntacular and twaterrific are words i reserve specifically for my satanic boss, since he is the being that inspired the words in the first place.
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