The other night, as I clambered over batshit-encrusted pink fiberglass insulation to find a leak in the attic, a word came to me like a whisper.
It was about 10 at night and my wife had called me upstairs because the ceiling was dripping in my office. A big swath, maybe five foot by three foot, yellow and damp creeped across the ceiling. The paint was bubbling, and peeling. Yellow water dripped ever so slowly. The rain had stopped. The spot wasn’t new. We’d had some folks out in the fall to fix it, to seal the crease where the shingles meet the dormer. They obviously didn’t do a very good job.
The entrance to our attic is through our bedroom closet, and going up there means emptying out the entire closet, or else particles of ancient insulation rain down on our clothes. So I put on jeans and a long sleeve shirt and got out the face mask and the headlamp and put on leather work gloves and went on up.
There was batshit everywhere. I couldn’t tell if it was new or old. We’d paid out the nose to have them evicted a couple of years ago, and little turds, like little mouse poops, were everywhere, like chocolate sprinkles on the most disgusting cupcake you’ve ever seen. Sure didn’t smell like birthdays up there, though.
I rolled back the pink rolls as best I could and crawled over to where the leak was, taking care not to put my foot through the floor, keeping an eye out for flying rats. I put a big plastic underbed storage bin under it, in the hopes that we could avoid further damage, and got the fuck off, took a shower, brushed my teeth.
This morning, a roofer came out and shook his head. Previous roofers didn’t do a very good job, apparently, hadn’t used flashing properly, had instead cemented the crease. No easy permanent fix. Well, we need a new roof soon anyway, so I asked for an estimate for a full replacement. Turns out our roof is two layers over cedar shake, so they need to do a full tear off and plywood over the entire thing. Big job, in other words.
"It won’t be cheap, man," he said, "I’m sorry to tell you that." Ballpark? "Maybe 6 to 9 thousand?," he said. Right.
So that’s our savings then, dumped into a house that’s probably underwater.
But then that word came to me again like a whisper.
As in, lighten the fuck up, it could be so much fucking worse.
Yes. It seals the edges and divides it into neat little triangles. I'm just thinking of all the awesome quesadilla type things I can make with it. QUESADILLA SMORES.
OMG Smoradillas! Now that sounds totally amazeballs. I take back all doubt. Our wafflemaker has an attachment that turns sandwiches into these sealed hot-pocketlike triangles. We used it everyday for like a month and then never again. The end.
I’ve been trying to be a responsible adult and pay off all of my bills on time (when possible). Unfortunately, my medical treatments and procedures aren’t cheap, and stacked on top of regular life bills, I’m starting to freak out. I owe 20% of my procedure tomorrow and the amount makes me want to vomit. I hate asking anyone for help, but if you or someone you know has a spare $5 laying around, I could really use it right now. The link above will take you to the paypalery where the paypals will put money into my very small bank account.
Let me start by saying I have a great job as well, and I am happy for you and your great job… so happy.
Oprah has flaunted her pseudo intellect, metaphysical crap, power trip, and money to an audience of millions for years. Nice to see she is quitting so that her cult can return to their normal lives. And that includes the welfare class that abuse the system of all races.
I am not a racist, I am an equal opportunistic hater. Black woman, Green woman, Blue woman I don’t care… she… OPRAH is the brand spewing megalomaniac that is the representational icon of all that is wrong with television and the world. Self help me Oprah to the motherfucking rescue… How you can be like me… on the next Oprah. It’s that kind of supplication that causes the religious experience people feel when viewing her gospel.
Anyway I could go on for a while, and I just do not think you are worth my time or effort. It’s a motherfucking lampoon asshole…
First off, I did not call you a racist. I did not even call you a bigot. I simply called you out on your bullshit by pointing out that you were being an ignorant, hateful piece of excrement.
Now here you are defending it, which is somehow so much worse.
The thing is, you called Oprah a bitch. That’s a pretty special word, don’t you think? It’s a loaded word when directed at women, and a word quite often used to describe women who are successful in the workplace. And a black woman? Double whammy! It’s one thing to hate on her — I don’t care for her show, personally, and I’m fine with the wealthy celebrities being taken down a peg — but quite another to summon blind misogyny to do so. Does it matter that you’re a white male using the word to describe a black woman? Duh.
I don’t even know where to begin with your descriptions of Oprah and her show. It’s like a thesaurus took a dump on Wikipedia. But to say that she is the “representational icon of all that is wrong with television and the world” is pretty awesome. I mean, to suggest that a television show that involves helping people solve their problems, celebrity chat, health, book clubs, and whatever else? I don’t even. A few random words: child sex trafficking, domestic violence, famine, drought, tsunami, tornado, murderous dictators, international terrorists, female circumcision, rape, genocide, drug violence, homelessness, poverty, civil rights, human rights. My guess is that Oprah has done shows on all of these, educating millions about important topics.
But honestly, it’s not about Oprah. I could give a shit about Oprah.
It was mostly the welfare line that got me riled up. You do know that saying shit like “the welfare class” is code, right? That terms like this have been used for decades by political operatives as a wink-wink nudge-nudge to the inner demons of intolerance. Hint: it means black people! Reducing the very real problem of poverty to “laziness” reflects a pretty dire lack of knowledge about history and simple economics. It’s just the sort of thing said by crotchety old grandfathers everywhere.
There are like 30 million unemployed people in this country. How many receive welfare? 5 million? I have no idea. How many people watch Oprah? Six million? Seven? So if they’re all welfare recipients, you’re saying that Oprah became wealthy because all those advertisers really wanted to cater to the desperately poor? All those welfare recipients buying new cars and washing machines? I don’t think so. The demographic data on her show suggests it is primarily middle class older white women. Are they “the welfare class”? Is it a bunch of older boomer housewives that are the scourge of society? Or is your idea of her audience clouded by certain other ideas?
But wait, It’s not about Oprah. I’ve gotten away from my main point again, which is of course that you are being an ignorant, hateful piece of shit. So let me get back to that. Sorry for digressing.
To reiterate, you used racially coded language to describe poor people as lazy and in the same breath attacked a black woman who famously became powerful through her own hard work (and presumed lack of laziness). Damned if you do, damned if you don’t, I guess.
But it’s all just a “motherfucking lampoon” right?
“It struck me that this past week there were so many people standing around foolishly waiting for the end of the world and there are people out there whose world as they knew it did end. Maybe Harold Camping should take all the money those misguided people sent him and give it to the people of Joplin, Missouri to help pay for funerals and clean up and food and shelter.”—
Full disclosure and all. Yea, we love reality shows.
Ax Men Deadliest Catch American Restoration
Chopped Vegas Jailhouse Storage Wars
Honorable mentions: COPS, Parking Wars, Hoarders, Top Chef, Pawn Stars
Honorable unmentions: American Pickers is the worst. Creepy guy is creepy.
Fun fact: almost rented an apartment from this guy.
When we moved to the Quad Cities, we thought about living up the river a bit in Le Claire, Iowa, home base for Antique Archaeology. Dude owns like half the town and he’s a real hand-shaker. He’s not creepy in person, just real buddy-buddy. I like their shop, but that Abbott and Costello act is not nearly as funny or charming as they think. I can’t watch it for more than five minutes, except when they bring my buddy Dean in to talk scooters…
It was weird. All of a sudden yesterday, I got a tingling sensation all over. Goosebumps. My hair stood on end. I could hear a whispering sound. I thought it was God about to tell me the secret to the universe, or maybe Jesus telling me a cosmic joke about why I was still here on Earth, but it was just my conscience telling me to stop mowing the lawn and to hurry up and get inside before I shat my pants.
I heeded its advice and took a glorious dump.
I felt better.
I thought it was over, but then I leaned over the toilet at what I’d done and I saw my shit’s soul ascend from it’s body, an ethereal vapor that glowed with pearlescent warmth, and as it floated upward towards me I was frozen with wonder and it rose through my open mouth, and I tasted what can only be surmised was a brief glimpse of heaven’s glory, remarkably akin to the Subway Italian B.M.T. I’d had for lunch.
Got a haircut yesterday. First time my hair is short enough to be off my forehead since, well, ever? And I’ve got shit in it. Fucking styling creme and sticky pomade jizz. I must be watching too much Top Chef Masters and Twin Peaks because my fivehead makes me look like Leland Palmer rocking a Curtis Stone. Jesus.
What I’m saying is that I’m ready for the rapture. I look like I play golf, and I’m pretty sure that’s like a requirement.