Man goes to doctor. Says he’s depressed. Says life seems harsh and cruel. Says he feels all alone in a threatening world where what lies ahead is vague and uncertain. Doctor says ‘Treatment is simple. Great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight. Go and see him. That should pick you up.
Man bursts into tears. Says ‘But Doctor…
I am Pagliacci.’
Him: Your first weightlifting competition is like the first time you had sex: there’s all kinds of excitement and build-up, but then it’s just kind of a letdown.
Me: Wait, how is that different from every time I’ve had sex?
I know. I KNOW. But as far as late-80s Top 40 pop goes, this is a pretty solid Side One.
I’m glad my weightlifting singlet was packaged in a bag from Amazon Fashion, like if I accessorize it right it’ll somehow look flattering. (It will not look flattering.)
Seeing Liverpool in Charlotte last night was pretty great, although I’m disappointed that I wasn’t allowed to hand out orange slices and juice boxes at halftime.
I just thumbed through the stack of records beside the turntable in my kitchen and found a Lucky Charms marshmallow stuck to the side of Iggy Pop’s face. This tells you everything you need to know about me.
I’ve never held a newborn baby but I have used an iPhone without a case, so I totally get it. (at Carilion Roanoke Memorial Hospital)
I just took the ‘What Billy Joel Song Are You?’ quiz, but before I got my answer, my computer just shut down and told me that it’s ashamed of the woman I’ve become.
*During a warm-up set with embarrassingly light weights
— You will convince yourself that lying flat and motionless on your floor is basically like a prolonged audition for playing a corpse on Law & Order. (Casting Agents: CALL ME.)
— When your left leg goes completely numb and you drape it over your right leg, it will feel like you’re spooning with an incapacitated stranger. ROMANCE!
— When your chiropractor works you in without an appointment, you will blurt out that you think he’s People Magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive.
— You will dread seeing said chiropractor because you have called him People Magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive.
— You will lie motionless and wonder which hot dead guy forced People Magazine to limit their competition to living men.
— You will start trying to match yourself with sturdy looking guys on Tinder, just because you need someone to pick you up and put you on the sofa.
— You will learn the difficulty of eating Lucky Charms while lying prone on the carpet. It didn’t seem this hard the last time you were hungover.
— You will attempt to drag yourself to your desk to clear your Internet history, just in case you choke to death on a marshmallow rainbow.
— You will lose perspective and get way melodramatic in less than an hour. “Well, now I understand Christina’s World” is a real thing you will say.
— If your role as SVU Corpse is Emmy-nominated, you will promise to take your chiropractor as your date.
— You will start mentally designing a line of ThermaCare based lingerie for the afterparty.
— You will write lists like this.
Gaffney, SC: The Home of Frank Underwood and the Giant Peach(oid).
"air and light and time and space"
"—-you know, I’ve either had a family, a job, something
has always been in the
I’ve sold my house, I’ve found this
place, a large studio, you should see the space and
for the first time in my life I’m going to have a place and the time to
no baby, if you’re going to create
you’re going to create whether you work
16 hours a day in a coal mine
you’re going to create in a small room with 3 children
while you’re on
you’re going to create with part of your mind and your
you’re going to create blind
you’re going to create with a cat crawling up your
the whole city trembles in earthquake, bombardment,
flood and fire.
baby, air and light and time and space
have nothing to do with it
and don’t create anything
except maybe a longer life to find
The Jazz Butcher’s album Fishcotheque was released in 1988. It’s a record that I have owned in three different formats (vinyl, CD and MP3) and one that I’ve played roughly a billion times. Ten minutes ago, I finally realized that the title is a play on lead singer Pat Fish’s name. This makes me feel both super smart and ridiculously, ridiculously stupid.