I didn’t go to the hands off protests and I don’t hate speak (anymore) but I am not hopeless. I just believe that the problems are with the souls of men. I can’t fix that. Greed now is much more than just greed, it’s immoral greed, greed that isn’t fun unless you overpower and take away something from someone particularly if they are brown or black or old or poor which just about covers all of us but those in power. Yes I’m the little old lady on the corner with a sign saying Prepare to Meet your God! I have hope.
Seriously?! Of all the cockamamie stories to jumpstart my Saturday morning (which of course required my double checking the spelling of cockamamie after it auto-absurded to "cocoa major." Whereupon I discovered that cockamamie is "believed to be an altered form of the term decalcomania" which refers to a transfer of images, & that originally a cockamamie was a children's decal, similar to a temporary rub-on tattoo). Will wonders never cease?
My initial thought upon reading your delightful introductory passage, was "Of course, Australia." Then I spent the next 8 1/2 minutes reprimanding myself for defaulting to the "America is the best, not like the rest" mentality we've had instilled in our brains since childhood. Now I am hashing over all the ways we've been programmed to think this way, & how I always felt it was uncouth at best to say such braggadocious (Bragg a social is. Ok. WTF, auto-absurd.) statements.
So far I've traced it back to cheerleading & am currently stuck in a hamster wheel conjuring up alternative cheers based upon the original
"We're number one, can't be number two; we're gonna beat the whoopie outta you."
Here are a few "cocoa major" examples that would likely be vetoed by the Cheer Submission Committee upon arrival: (Try to imagine these with short skirts & pom poms.)
We're number three, slightly worse than number two; we've room for improvement, but kudos to you.
Used to be first, but now number four; Coach got fired, but we're back for more.
Not too shabby we're a strong six class; our forced optimism with a gun kicks ass.
Despite our effort, we're now lucky twelve; one through eleven go fuck yourself.
Well, that's enough for now, I'd say. I'll probably be creating these juvenile progressively unhinged chants for the next week at a minimum. I'll try to refrain from posting them all to avoid warranting "a stern reprimand for being physically unable to prevent" myself.
Young Frankenstein was one of my all time favorite movies as a kid. We watched it when I was in middle school on our microscopic rabbit ear tv. My brother & I thought it was the most hilarious thing we had ever seen. (We were raised strict Southern Baptist, had no cable tv, & didn’t see many movies.) Luckily this one was on TV one night when our parents were out. We were in a fit of giggles when they came home & Mom was not pleased, lol & surmised we had watched something she would not approve of. No joy allowed, unless someone was “slain in the Spirit” at church. 🙄
I didn’t go to the hands off protests and I don’t hate speak (anymore) but I am not hopeless. I just believe that the problems are with the souls of men. I can’t fix that. Greed now is much more than just greed, it’s immoral greed, greed that isn’t fun unless you overpower and take away something from someone particularly if they are brown or black or old or poor which just about covers all of us but those in power. Yes I’m the little old lady on the corner with a sign saying Prepare to Meet your God! I have hope.
So when do the suckers in the cheap seats stop talking and grab pitchforks?
This being the dear ol' U S of A and me being almost 82, I won't live near long enough to see it.
May the coming week be your winning lotto ticket, Amigo.
As soon as the My Pillow Guy reinvents himself as a peddler of “The Right Pitchforks.”
“Guaranteed to stick it to the libs!”
Then Mark Burnett will produce a reality show called Pitchforks Vs. Posterboard Signs.
Nothing is less real than tv reality shows...well...except for political promises.
Seriously?! Of all the cockamamie stories to jumpstart my Saturday morning (which of course required my double checking the spelling of cockamamie after it auto-absurded to "cocoa major." Whereupon I discovered that cockamamie is "believed to be an altered form of the term decalcomania" which refers to a transfer of images, & that originally a cockamamie was a children's decal, similar to a temporary rub-on tattoo). Will wonders never cease?
My initial thought upon reading your delightful introductory passage, was "Of course, Australia." Then I spent the next 8 1/2 minutes reprimanding myself for defaulting to the "America is the best, not like the rest" mentality we've had instilled in our brains since childhood. Now I am hashing over all the ways we've been programmed to think this way, & how I always felt it was uncouth at best to say such braggadocious (Bragg a social is. Ok. WTF, auto-absurd.) statements.
So far I've traced it back to cheerleading & am currently stuck in a hamster wheel conjuring up alternative cheers based upon the original
"We're number one, can't be number two; we're gonna beat the whoopie outta you."
Here are a few "cocoa major" examples that would likely be vetoed by the Cheer Submission Committee upon arrival: (Try to imagine these with short skirts & pom poms.)
We're number three, slightly worse than number two; we've room for improvement, but kudos to you.
Used to be first, but now number four; Coach got fired, but we're back for more.
Not too shabby we're a strong six class; our forced optimism with a gun kicks ass.
Despite our effort, we're now lucky twelve; one through eleven go fuck yourself.
Well, that's enough for now, I'd say. I'll probably be creating these juvenile progressively unhinged chants for the next week at a minimum. I'll try to refrain from posting them all to avoid warranting "a stern reprimand for being physically unable to prevent" myself.
<MASSIVEGRINHERE>
Massive grin is the best compliment…
…unless it’s the maniacal trademark grin of Jack Nicholson in The Joker, Jack Torrence in “The Shining,” & Satan himself in “The Witches Of Eastwick.”
“Wait’ll they get a load of me…”
😎🤡🪓😈
Naaah! Mine is the grin of Igor in Young Frankenstein!
Whew!
Young Frankenstein was one of my all time favorite movies as a kid. We watched it when I was in middle school on our microscopic rabbit ear tv. My brother & I thought it was the most hilarious thing we had ever seen. (We were raised strict Southern Baptist, had no cable tv, & didn’t see many movies.) Luckily this one was on TV one night when our parents were out. We were in a fit of giggles when they came home & Mom was not pleased, lol & surmised we had watched something she would not approve of. No joy allowed, unless someone was “slain in the Spirit” at church. 🙄