Out in the street in front of our drive was a sawhorse festooned with a garish sign and, get this, a festive baby blue helium balloon dancing playfully in the air.
My wife knows how to throw a party.
“A balloon,” I said. “Where the hell did you get a helium balloon?”
“At the dollar store.”
“Huh. How much did it cost?”
Dripping with more sweat than Mike Rowe driving a Ford Truck, I had just muscled tons of our most useless crap out on the front lawn. My normally well-oiled brain wasn’t exactly firing on all cylinders.
Weird how it was that moment the heavens decided to deluge our asses and stuff. I welled up with despair as I watched the rain beating down against that little helium balloon. I’m proud to say it didn’t fight back much. Soon it lay there, on the ground, like a fresh chunk of roadkill.
It wasn’t a winner, but I knew how to handle that. I dashed out in the rain and pinned it with a “participant” ribbon taken from my trophy collection. It popped and was gone for good.
Our “yard sale” was officially underway.
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Five Stages of Despair
Grief has gotten all the glory in the five-stages biz. It’s high time for Despair to have its moment in the sun. Just for fun, though, I call them flavors.
Introducing the Five Flavors of Despair ™:
I would like to note that these flavors are not meant to be a complete list of all possible stages of despair that can be felt, and, they can occur in any order. My hypothesis holds that not everyone who experiences life groks all five of the flavors, as reactions to life are as unique as the person experiencing them. Note: There is one special case where all five flavors are perfectly experienced simultaneously. This is known as a Grand Wham ™.
Enough clinical shit! Let’s bust out with some real world examples and see how it makes you feel. Remember, there are no right answers!
Topic: Living in a Society
- You don’t own a dog yet your lawn is covered with dog poop.
- You don’t smoke yet your property is littered with cigarettes.
- You are quiet and tranquil on your patio yet your neighbors blast music.
- You have achieved 100 percent recycling yet 99% of city property is landfill.
- You never litter yet your street is covered with trash.
- In theaters you turn off your phone yet you can’t see/hear the movie due to other’s devices.
For honorary despairologist credentials, please post your own examples of “Living in a Society” in the comments section below. A despair specialist will get back to you with customized despair recommendations.
So Long, and Thanks for All the Pish
Déjà vu for the last time. The Decade of Despair is over. More details as they become available.
It’s official. I am out of The Shit Hole, Galactic Empire Designation Death Star One.
I have done punched that clock for the last time.
To think I’ve been blogging about hating my job for well over a year now. I never imagined this day could actually come.
I don’t really have a lot to say about it right now. Here’s a little run down on some official Last Week goodness:
Late last week, one of my fellow employees, recently code named The Waffler, had finally had enough. Like me, his big beefs with the job revolved around things like nanomanagement and how employees are treated.
A few weeks back The Waffler had been put on notice by management. He had to improve or he’d be fired. Like me he’s been with the company for over five years, and, like me, the boss always says that he’s “family.”
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I recently had a deep thought.
Life is lived one week at a time.
–Tom B. Taker
Let’s take a look at a typical week then, shall we? We’ll use my patented Poop Colored Glasses with Capitalism Tint.
In other words, this look is founded on a work-based viewpoint.
A lot of work-based people tend to favor Friday. They have it up on some kind of pedestal. Well, not me! Why? Because Friday is the work day closest to Monday. And it’s still a day where you actually go to work. Sorry, Friday. That puts you squarely in the Shit bin.
“Holy Time” is my description of the time between Friday at 5pm and midnight. Seven golden hours of goodness. This section of time is the most removed from going back to work. Unfortunately it’s also the smallest damn piece of the whole friggin’ pie.
Saturday is a pretty good day. It’s preceded by Holy Time, which is good, and to its credit, is also followed by a day that is not work. Therefore this day is “Good.” That’s high praise from the likes of me.
Sunday is a bit of a quandary. Since it is followed by a work day, it’s a very melancholy time. Yeah, it’s not as bad as work, but it is being chased by an ominous black cloud of death. Technically speaking, Sunday is a day tainted by evil. But it’s still not work. So this day we will classify as Tainted and/or Mediocre.
This graph is actually incomplete. It’s missing the slice that consists of the last two hours before bed on a Sunday night. This slice, if it had been shown, would have been represented with the terminology “Despair.” Technically it’s know worse than any work night yet is somehow amplified by the freedom that was just tasted.
The rest of the 168 hours in the life unit known as the “week” fall into a bucket known simply as Shit. This is, by far, the biggest piece of the life of pie. And I think that pretty much sums it up.
No, I will not gloat. I remember the dark times. So this is an opposite post. Today I offer a message of hope and caring to my friends on the other side of the aisle. Oh shit. Yet another political post. I apologize in advance. Just like my bladder, I’m unable to control myself.
It’s always darkest before the dawn. Fortunately dawn only comes every 24 hours. Actually, every 23-1/2 if we assume dawn is about a 30-minute process. That’s a lot of darkness.
–Tom B. Taker
Breaking news: Barack Obama won the election. White people, of course, loved the wealthy elderly white guy. Obama did worse with that bunch than even Michael Dukakis. (He ran for president in a losing effort in 1988. It’s true, look it up.) Meanwhile the non-whites in America basically all went for the other guy. This group includes blacks, Latinos, college students, educated professionals, gays and lesbians, and last but not least, Asian-Americans.
If you’re a Romney voter I want you to know that I understand how you feel. I’ve been there, done that. 2004 anyone? I truly understand that feeling of dispair and hopelessness. But my speciality is bringing the good times so here’s a few positive things to remember:
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