|Courtesy of Just what do you mean -- self-righteous?|
I wish I were a good person. There, now that that is out of the way, let's talk about the idiots that populate the planet.
I love 'em. I rave, I rant. Wait, "rave" has shifted in meanings again, hasn't it? Well, I-rant-but-without-the-focus-of-a-good-rant-and-with-the-possible-addition-of-drool-and-froth. Is that better?
Numb nut space wasters!
Sigh. I love 'em.
That's really all I have to say for this Sunday's Sermon From The Bed, all that can be said, at least.
But I leave you with these nuggets of wisdom, as well as a few profound questions to ponder through the coming week:
When someone appears before you wearing their clothing inside out, be nice and tell them. For the heartbreak of discovering, around midnight, as you slip into your jammies, that you've looked like a mentally challenged dresser all day is a heartbreak that rapidly turns into the Purifying Flame of Embarrassed Righteousness -- and Thine Ass Will Be Grass. Silence is not always golden.
Why do even some of the better cop shows depict the authorities driving stealthily up to the criminal's abode, lights out, engines cut, and then slam the damn car doors?
What is the freaking big deal if I spell "hmmm" with 3 ems as opposed to the officially correct version of 2 ems, "hmm"? If I want excess, I shall have excess. And how exactly does one spell that noise we make, lips closed, to express a head-shaking "no way" -- "uh-uh" says Fred, but I disagree. I mean, it's really more like "mm-mm," but I don't believe I've ever seen that in print. "Uh-uh" is open-mouthed. I am talking lips almost pursed shut and head shaking and a severe negatory -- mmm-mmm? mmmm-mmmm? Imagine your mouth ducktaped and you're being asked if you know the secret to happiness. What's that noise you make (I'm talking to the realists of my readership, obviously, because you fervently faithful sorts would never ever end up with ducktape on your mouth, being grilled by the Secretary General of the United Faithless.)
In the process of writing a short essay, I discovered that there are two things imperative to the success of a day, or at least, there are two things that augur the possibility of success: some decent sleep and the prompt feeding of those who cannot feed themselves. Cats, in my case.
Never, ever forget to buy the yogurt. If they don't have what I put on the list, at least have the mercy of Christ and buy some probiotics in pill or powder form. There ARE worse things than having me prance around all day in inside-out clothing.
Lastly, as I just realized that I am a veritable font of rant-and-rave, as well as rock-and-roll, and could go on forever (she dies, laughing): We should all live as Dobby lives, loving and trusting, and asking for what we need.
Good luck in the coming week.