Winter Wallowing


I was just reminded that I haven't written an irreverent, sarcastic and cynical blog post in a while. Well, I haven't been inspired. Perhaps it's the weather. We are embroiled, and I use a term denoting heat ironically, in not only one of the coldest cold snaps in recent history, but in recorded history. As in the Great Lakes were puddles and mastodons frolicked about the last time it was this achingly frigid.

(Frolicking mastodons? Seriously?)

Paints a picture though, doesn't it?

(I… dammit. Touché, pussycat.)

My point is that it's very difficult to find any kind of motivation when you go outside and the air hurts your face and your moustache freezes and some men are acutely reminded that they are "growers and not showers."

(What??)

Shrinkage.

(Oh for cripe's sake. Now I'm poking out my mind's eye.)

Ahh, good 'ol Frasier, we thank thee for bringing that nugget of verbosity into our vernacular. The point is that I've been less than creative. I've written a few little things here and there, but I just haven't had the mojo lately.

(You've lost that lovin' feeling?)

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Wait for it…

(Sonofabitch. I totally just earwormed myself.)

Annnnnd there it is. Anywhoos… I can't be "on" all the time. I'm lucky I'm on some of the time, between the insomnia and the working and neurosis and the caffeine and the additional craziness that befalls my life, like dating and buying a house and the yodeling contests.

(You yodel now???)

Just seeing if you were paying attention. And really? You think I actually yodel? I mean, I wore lederhosen once. ONCE. I was young, and we were experimenting…

(There is something seriously wrong with you.)

*sigh* I know. But the truth remains that you like my wrongness. You want me on this blog. You need me on this blog. We live in a world that has blogs, and those blogs have to be guarded by men with –

(*AHEM* Simmer down there, Col. Jessup. This isn't A Few Good Blogs.)

Right. Sorry. I guess I must be getting my mojo back, baby, YEAH!!! And if you name that movie reference I just might make you ex-wife number three. HAHAHA… *ahem* ok so about that caffeine? I might have had a bit too much today.  *whistling* So fine, here are few random cynical thoughts for your consideration:

1.         50 Shades of Grey came out all over the place last weekend and movie theatres everywhere are still cleaning up. My personal thoughts on the film I haven't seen and the book, upon which it's based, of which I read only a portion before my eyes bled from being subjected to its utter tripeness? Women shouldn't complain about being objectified and then rush to the Cineplex in droves to overpay for popcorn to see a movie the sole plot of which is the objectification of a young and innocent woman. Just sayin'. If you want objectification, wait and go see Magic Mike XXL. Because apparently men by and large have no problem being objectified. That's mainly because we probably think we're gonna get some afterwards.

B.        Even I, who grew up in the Northeast, has lived in Buffalo and Rochester, New York as well as in Vermont, drives a 4x4, and considers myself generally hearty and robust in nature, thinks this winter should fornicate itself right in its face and go away. Like now. Right now. Because if my dog yelps when her paws hurt from the cold and I have to carry her inside, f*ck you, Mother Nature.

iii.        Waits for a certain obsessively compulsively disorderly reader to point out the numbering. Again. *snicker*

and….

4.         yeah I gots nuthin else. See? Frozen mojo. And I don't mean Frozen mojo. I do not want to build a f*cking snowman.

(Dude. Decaf. Vacation. Something.)

At least I haven't shot six holes in my freezer. And if you get THAT song reference, we are going to be BFF's forever.

So, there. It's short, but it's all I gots for now. Totes McGotes for reals.

(Ummm *backs away slowly*)

Ok, maybe I do have a little cabin fever. Boat drinks, anyone?

 

© 2015 J.J. Goodman. All rights reserved.

 

 

 

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