Ever have that thing happen where someone says something—you don’t hear it, and ask to repeat—they say it again—you don’t catch it again—you ask to repeat—you miss it a third time. This happened to me today. That third miss hurt so bad that my body started to shut down from what I will henceforth call Dumb Numb. You get Dumb Numb when you feel so dumb about an event that has happened that you physically can’t move or feel anything and you crumble into a pile of ashes and you are taken away with the wind.
Other causes of Dumb Numb:
+ Throwing up in a sink at a party.
+ Dropping your cell phone into some dude’s toilet.
+ Dropping your cell phone in any toilet.
+ Going in for a hug. Target doesn’t reciprocate, causing you to force a casual recoil, which turns you into the aforementioned pile of ashes.
+ Forgetting the name of a person you should know by now (duh).
+ Tripping and falling while jogging.
+ Giving a wedding party speech and having it steam-rolled by the Best Man (a story for another time).
My prescription to rid yourself of how dumb you are is to take a shot of gin and go watch like 5 cat videos on Youtube. And also remind yourself that you’re a human being, dammit, and you’re going to feel really really really dumb sometimes. See! Life feels better!
This morning I jam-packed my suitcase full of all the necessary objects I purchased in Florida (ie, giant tervis cup), only for all of my dirty laundry to be completely and unceremoniously unpacked upon passing through airport security. I am made to believe that airport security thought the candles in my bag were sticks of dynamite. And, clearly they thought I looked suspiciously similar to Wile E. Coyote.
This is the kind of mail my mother sends me. Keep in mind that I live in a city where I have no choice but to walk literally everywhere, all the time.
If you don’t understand why it promotes racism to design this, manufacture this, sell this, or buy this, then you’re probably racist. You also don’t understand proper copyright law.
One of these inspires timelessness and endless dance party skills. The other inspires a job a Hooters. You decide.
Yeah, an egg. To fertilize. NOW PUT THE BOOTY SHORTS BACK. YOU’RE NOT BUYING THEM. Teenagers are the worst.
If you decide that it’s worth your precious allowance dollars to purchase this filthy gym sock, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say the joke is, in fact, on you.
HOW TO CAMP LIKE A GIRL.
If you want to camp, and your boyfriend is not an Eagle Scout, and you’re a girl, and you have never gone camping before… don’t do it. Quit while you’re ahead. Why? Because Eagle Scouts want to do everything for you in the wilderness. And you don’t want to do anything. Because that’s what being a girl is all about. So:
1.) Find an Eagle Scout and make him your boyfriend camping slave.
2.) Don’t buy organic all natural bug spray. Yes, camping seems like the perfect time to turn your life around and really “get down with organic”. But, as it turns out, mosquitoes really like it when you lather yourself in liquid nature.
3.) Make sure your campsite has a low population of ducks. Little known fact: Ducks are perverts. I’m not fucking around. In the daylight hours they may act all polite and gentlemanly and serene, but when night falls, the forest turns into one massive duck orgy fuck party. And it is loud and violent. And it lasts for hours. And you cry and cry and cry…
4.) Get blackout drunk and misplace things. Then, when you wake up, you can become rapidly suspicious of everyone else at the campsite for stealing your shit. And you’ll be in your own private episode of the Twilight Zone.
5.) Try Famous Amos cookies in lieu of graham crackers for s’mores. Done and Done.
