Everything I Like Causes Cancer

No, really, it's kind of you to offer to wait for me but I'm heading off to the lake for a bachelorette party weekend and won't be able to make it. In my absence, please enjoy this cartoon set to The Real Tuesday Weld's The Day Before You Came. If I had been able to make it, we'd have had highballs and a smoke or two and caught up while something equally relaxing and fun played in the background.

Something really weird happened today. Like, Biblical weird. Like, I'm still reeling from the weird-weird. I was having a normal day at work, toiling for Uncle Sam, brokering deals and generally making Important Things happen, when in a burst of silliness (I know! So hard to believe!) I opened a new email message and typed, "Are you there God? It's me, Gwen."

And this is where the weird started go down. First, the email vanished. Disappeared. *POOF!* Gone. Just like that, de nada. I checked SENT MAIL and found nothing. I checked DRAFTS, nothing. And then, before I could start emailing y'all to find out which one of you was getting a free ride to the pokey for buggering with a U.S. government computer, I got this reply:

Yes, my child. What may I favor you with today? I know you don't need me to help grow your boobs.

Uh. Huh? Did I? What? Oh, holy crap, did I somehow email God? THE GOD? The man above? Lord and Saviour? Father of all fathers? Person I agreed was an opiate for the masses? Holy crap, I EMAILED GOD. And he made a crack about my boobs. He's real. And I like him. I'll be damned. Or maybe not . . .

Playing it totally suck-up safe, I replied:

I am sure there are other people whose needs are greater than mine. I just wanted to know if you were there.

But nobody talks to me anymore. They're all atheists or humanists now. So really, it's like you went to the deli and there was no one in front of you. You don't have to take a number from the little machine. Whether you need turkey breast or spiritual renewal, I am here.

Well, I suppose I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Did I just call you a horse? Should I have at least capitalized Horse? Do you care about that stuff? You know, all the hommy-glommy that surrounds you?

Also, I could use a soda. [Hey! He offered!] Pepsi. But I'd take an orange if that's all you've got. For some reason I suspect you drink Sunkist orange, like me. Maybe because it's so damnably (See what I did there? Do you like humor?) refreshing.

Oh, you know me. I'm low-maintenance, even for God. I don't need all that capitalization stuff. The way I look at it, if I need that for my ego then I must not be a very secure and powerful God, you know?

I can totally do a Pepsi. Although you should know that I drink Diet Coke. That's the Official Soft Drink of God. What do you think I could get for THAT kind of endorsement? If you ever visit me up here (and I pray to me that you don't for another 40 or 50 years), I'll let you try the soda flavors you guys don't even have on Earth. Orgasmberry Splash, anyone?

It pleases me that you are much like I expected. I bet you're cute, too. Are you allowed to make out? Wanna make out?

Just reading Orgasmberry Splash made my pink parts tingle a little. Good work, G-man. (OH! That makes me wonder if the G-spot is named after you. Is it? I almost asked if you could make it easier to find and then I remembered that things are better when you have to work for them.)

Speaking of endorsements . . . are the Cowboys really God's Team?

Are you Allah and Mohammed and Buddha and Ra and Zeus, too? Or are those different guys?

So many questions! You know, hiding from mankind is something I've always done out of habit, but this is fun. Maybe I'll call a respected journalist and do a sit-down TV interview. Who do you think would be best? A few years ago I'd have said Oprah, but now she's a bit of a wackadoo. Maybe I can get Letterman to give me a whole hour and let me pick the musical guest.

I have been told that I am cute, and I am allowed to make out. After all, I'm God, right? Who is going to tell me what to do? But I must warn you...making out with God is dangerous. Afterwards, no mortal man will satisfy you even a little. I mean, I INVENTED those pink parts. I know how they work better than anyone. So think carefully. And yes, the G-spot is named after me. Because if you find it, you see me and many have been known to call out my name.

I'm so glad you asked me about the Cowboys. They are NOT God's team. I don't care if they DID put a hole in the roof so I can watch. They are sinners and idolators, and they are unworthy before my eyes. The only time I visit the filthy hole they call a stadium is the one game each year when the Eagles visit. They are are pleasing to me.

While we're talking about football, let me make something clear - I DO care about the outcome of football games. Everyone who sees a player thank me and says "God has better things to do" is dead wrong. I mean, it took me seven days to create the universe, and make no mistake, that was hard work. But after that it's just routine maintenance. I have a lot of down time. By the way, I like the Chargers to win the Super Bowl this year. Just a tip from above.

As for whether I am all those guys, yes I am. I like to talk to people in a way they will be receptive to hearing me. Kind of like how Dukakis tried to woo conservatives by sitting in a tank, Kerry tried to get blue collar people by eating a cheesesteak, and Hillary tried to completely hide who she actually is. (Being God, I am much more successful than these train wrecks. Really, Kerry? Swiss cheese?)

It's so great to get all this stuff off my chest!

Would you be willing to be interviewed by a small-time Midwestern blogger who likes to swear and talk about poop? My sources say she has A LOT more questions for you.

Also, I just got up to get a Pepsi - I was even going to pay for it! - and discovered there's no ice in the office fridge. I'm questioning you and your omnipotence.

Do you look like Jeff Bridges in The Big Lebowski? Because that would be awesome and make me willing to forsake all mortal men. WAIT! I changed my mind. I'm not ready to give up penises just yet, but if you could see your way clear to sending one of those mortal men my way, it'd be super. I'm into cute with a sense of humor, confident but not egomaniacal, thoughtful, not gay, not married . . . whatever you think is best for me within those loose parameters.

I would love to be interviewed by you, I mean a small-time Midwestern blogger. That will give me street cred. After all, I'm a God of the people.

Silly child...it is not my omnipotence you should question. You should be asking yourself whether I wanted there to be ice in the fridge. I just blew your mind, didn't I? I tend to do that.

I do not look like Jeff Bridges in The Big Lebowski. I can make myself look like anything I want, but I do not wish to look like that. I'm God, I can't be running around slacking off in a bathrobe and existing in an inexplicably popular movie all the time. I prefer to look like Kurt Russell. Or maybe George Clooney if I'm going somewhere fancy.

As for your request, I will do my best. But it's pretty hard to find a guy like that who is not gay or married, even for me. But I'm glad to see your parameters are loose, that will help. Anything loose will help, frankly.

"Anything loose will help, frankly." Ha! I had almost forgotten about Mary Magdalene. How long did you two date? Is she the Holy Grail or is Dan Brown demented?

You know, nobody is going to believe this, but he got everything EXACTLY RIGHT. When I read it, I was like "What the fuck? How did this guy get all this information?" Then I realized he had probably come up with it completely independently and didn't even know he was right. So I figured I'd gently persuade some hipsters to trash it and let them do my dirty work.

Mary Magdalene? Oh, her grail is holy all right. She does shit that would turn Paris Hilton's hair white. We went out for a little while, but frankly, you can't keep that up. She's the kind of crazy where it's fun to date her for a couple of weeks and then you find yourself not picking up when she calls and making up excuses like you "have a lot of work to do."

Oh, God, you're a stitch! Listen, I'm sure you've got things to do so I will let you go but before I do my friend wants to know if you are a PC or a Mac . . .

All computers are equal in the eyes of God. Except those piece of shit HPs.

Hahaha! This was a lot of fun and very enlightening. Can I email you again some day?

Anytime, baby! It's lonely at the top.

So yeah, I've got some sort of back-of-the-wardrobe loophole in my laptop*, which is equal parts awesome and freaky. Got any questions for God, monkeys?

* I don't really have a laptop but I loved the alliteration of "loophole in my laptop" so much that I lied. In a blog post quoting God. I should ask him about hell next time.

The following was emailed to me today by my friend Leslie. Because this material was emailed and is truly funny, you’ve probably already seen it. Suck it. Read it again.

Also? I would totally credit the original author but google couldn’t identify this person in the first ten hits so I quit. I’m pretty sure the original author would have done the same. In fact, I think we were separated at birth so I'm even less inclined to find him/her because I don't intend to share my inheritance.

Random Thoughts of the Day

• I wish Google Maps had an "Avoid Ghetto" routing option.



• More often than not when someone is telling me a story all I can think about is that I can't wait for them to finish so that I can tell my own story that's not only better, but also more directly involves me.



• Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.



• I don't understand the purpose of the line, "I don't need to drink to have fun." Great, no one does. But why start a fire with flint and sticks when they've invented the lighter?



• Have you ever been walking down the street and realized that you're going in the complete opposite direction of where you are supposed to be going? But instead of just turning a 180 and walking back in the direction from which you came, you have to first do something like check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture and mutter to yourself to ensure that no one in the surrounding area thinks you're crazy by randomly switching directions on the sidewalk.



• That's enough, Nickelback.



• I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.



• The letters T and G are very close to each other on a keyboard. This recently became all too apparent to me and consequently I will never be ending a work email with the phrase "Regards" again.



• Do you remember when you were a kid, playing Nintendo, and it wouldn't work? You would take the cartridge out, blow in it and that would magically fix the problem. Every kid in America did that, but how did we all know how to fix the problem? There was no internet or message boards or FAQ's. We just figured it out. Today's kids are soft.



• There is a great need for a sarcasm font.



• Sometimes, I'll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger and suddenly realize I had no idea what the fuck was going on when I first saw it.



• I think everyone has a movie that they love so much that it actually becomes stressful to watch it with other people. I'll end up wasting 90 minutes shiftily glancing around to confirm that everyone's laughing at the right parts, then making sure I laugh just a little bit harder (and a millisecond earlier) to prove that I'm still the only one who really, really gets it.



• The other night I hit a new low at an open bar. I had already hopped on highway blackout when, inevitably I had to find a bathroom. I decided it was probably on the other side of the bar so I tried to walk over there but ran into a guy coming the other way. We played that “both go left, both go right” game to no avail so I finally put out my hand to guide myself past and that's is when I realized, yup, that's a mirror I just tried to walk through. And the guy on the other side is me. Even cats can recognize their own image.



• How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?



• I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.



• I think part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die.



• The only time I look forward to a red light is when I'm trying to finish a text.



• A recent study has shown that playing beer pong contributes to the spread of mono and the flu. Yeah, if you suck at it.



• Was learning cursive really necessary?



• LOL has gone from meaning, "laugh out loud" to "I have nothing else to say".



• I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.



• Answering the same letter three times or more in a row on a Scantron test is absolutely petrifying.



• My brother's Municipal League baseball team is named the Stepdads. Seeing as none of the guys on the team are actual stepdads, I inquired about the name. He explained, "Cuz we beat you, and you hate us." Classy, bro.



• Whenever someone says "I'm not book smart, but I'm street smart", all I hear is "I'm not real smart, but I'm imaginary smart".



• How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear what they said?



• I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars teams up to prevent a dick from cutting in at the front. Stay strong, brothers!



• Every time I have to spell a word over the phone using 'as in' examples, I will undoubtedly draw a blank and sound like a complete idiot. Today I had to spell my boss's last name to an attorney and said "Yes that's G as in...(10 second lapse)..ummm...Goonies."



• What would happen if I hired two private investigators to follow each other?



• While driving yesterday I saw a banana peel in the road and instinctively swerved to avoid it...thanks Mario Kart.



• MapQuest really needs to start their directions on #5. Pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.



• Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.



• I find it hard to believe there are actually people who get in the shower first and THEN turn on the water.



• Shirts get dirty. Underwear gets dirty. Pants? Pants never get dirty, and you can wear them forever.



• I would like to officially coin the phrase 'catching the swine flu' to be used as a way to make fun of a friend for hooking up with an overweight woman. Example: "Dave caught the swine flu last night."



• I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.



• Bad decisions make good stories.



• Whenever I'm Facebook stalking someone and I find out that their profile is public I feel like a kid on Christmas morning who just got the Red Ryder BB gun that I always wanted. 546 pictures? Don't mind if I do!



• Is it just me or do high school girls get sluttier & sluttier every year?



• If Carmen San Diego and Waldo ever got together, their offspring would probably just be completely invisible.



• Why is it that during an ice-breaker, when the whole room has to go around and say their name and where they are from, I get so incredibly nervous? Like I know my name, I know where I'm from, this shouldn't be a problem....



• You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you've made up your mind that you just aren't doing anything productive for the rest of the day.



• Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after DVDs? I don't want to have to restart my collection.



• There's no worse feeling than that millisecond you're sure you are going to die after leaning your chair back a little too far.



• I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten page research paper that I swear I did not make any changes to.



• "Do not machine wash or tumble dry" means I will never wash this ever.



• I hate being the one with the remote in a room full of people watching TV. There's so much pressure. 'I love this show, but will they judge me if I keep it on? I bet everyone is wishing we weren't watching this. It's only a matter of time before they all get up and leave the room. Will we still be friends after this?'



• While watching the Olympics, I find myself cheering equally for China and USA. No, I am not of Chinese descent, but I am fairly certain that when Chinese athletes don't win, they are executed.



• I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? Damnit!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voicemail. What'd you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away?



• I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.



• When I meet a new girl, I'm terrified of mentioning something she hasn't already told me but that I have learned from some light internet stalking.



• I like all of the music in my iTunes, except when it's on shuffle, then I like about one in every fifteen songs in my iTunes.



• Why is a school zone 20 mph? That seems like the optimal cruising speed for pedophiles...



• As a driver I hate pedestrians, and as a pedestrian I hate drivers, but no matter what the mode of transportation, I always hate cyclists.



• Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.



• It should probably be called Unplanned Parenthood.



• I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.



• I think that if, years down the road when I'm trying to have a kid, I find out that I'm sterile, most of my disappointment will stem from the fact that I was not aware of my condition in college.



• Even if I knew your social security number, I wouldn't know what do to with it.



• Even under ideal conditions people have trouble locating their car keys in a pocket, hitting the G-spot, and Pinning the Tail on the Donkey - but I'd bet my ass everyone can find and push the Snooze button from 3 feet away, in about 1.7 seconds, eyes closed, first time every time...



• My 4-year old son asked me in the car the other day "Dad what would happen if you ran over a ninja?" How the hell do I respond to that?



• It really pisses me off when I want to read a story on CNN.com and the link takes me to a video instead of text.



• I wonder if cops ever get pissed off at the fact that everyone they drive behind obeys the speed limit.



• I think the freezer deserves a light as well.



• I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Lites than Kay.



• The other night I ordered takeout, and when I looked in the bag, saw they had included four sets of plastic silverware. In other words, someone at the restaurant packed my order, took a second to think about it, and then estimated that there must be at least four people eating to require such a large amount of food. Too bad I was eating by myself. There's nothing like being made to feel like a fat bastard before dinner.

1. I recently received a package of UK sweeties from UK sweetie Girl Interrupted. I'm always excited when packages arrive (who isn't?) but when I saw who it was from I shook my ass and hooted and jumped up and down a little. Okay, a lot. And I might have squealed, too. Whatever. Anyway, I wanted to write a show-off post to make you jealous of me but other things like pedicures and parties have gotten in the way. So be jealous, okay? Because I got candy and cookies and . . . my very own jelly to bite, which I did immediately. She even sent treats for my kitties. She clearly likes me better than you.

Beautiful wood, as far as the eye can see.

(That's what she said.)

Much more suited to late-night, partially nude, costumed dance parties with Whiskeymarie.

Earlier this summer, when I threw out my back, ttmac came over and did some gardening for me because I couldn't and it had to get done. That day, while she and I were discussing friendship and teamwork (and butterflies and princesses), we got the idea for a "working brunch", a brunch that one of us would host where the guests help the host get a particular job done, something that was bigger than her, something that an extra pair of hands or six would make much easier and more fun. Everyone loved the idea.

That would be awesome.

This morning we had breakfast with one of our most dear friends and then took her to the airport to see her off to Arizona, permanently. To ward off alligator tears cut the tension at the airport I initiated a "Gimme a (first letter of name)! . . . What's that spell?" cheer. It worked; by the time we called out the second letter of her name she'd rolled her eyes and marched off in those high heels of hers, head held high and pretending she didn't know us.

After much ballyhooing and fiddle-faddling early in the week I finally decided to host a BRING YOUR OWN CRUSTACEAN CRAB BOIL and then, before I knew what had happened, I had invited everyone on the roster. All 40 of them. Plus a handful of non-dinner clubbers for good measure and added merriment. Apparently my motto is "Go big or go home, bitch."

Making that stockpot his bitch.

Can you hand me that cracker, cracker?

You won't likely be surprised to learn that all of the doorhandles in this house are now slick

or that I found butter on the bathroom mirror this morning.

Sheik Mohammed al Buttah

"Crabfinger",

the only 007 film to go straight to video

~Happy butt'ry people eating crabs~

While searching for the perfect video of REM performing Shiny Happy People (the inspiration for the title of this post, duh), I found this video of them performing Furry Happy Monsters with The Muppets. Because I know she'd prefer this version - much like how I now know she likes reality TV, fast food, househunting shows, Looney Tunes cartoons and driving a stickshift and that she doesn't like for her food to touch - this one's for you, Z . . . take Arizona by storm, woman.

I'm crabby. I'm tired, I think I have bursitis in my left shoulder (FREAKING OW!) and I want to run away. I want to go somewhere where no one knows who I am and no one who does can find me. Once there, in Nirvana, I want to sit with nothing but the sound of waves in my head, sipping double banana goofy drinks made by a non-English-speaking someone else and reading books. What I don't want to be doing are the twelvety-million things I'm expected to be doing. I'm done. D. U. N. DONE. Happy Sunshine Gwen has left the building. Check back tomorrow.