Tuesday, December 08, 2009

I feel that addiction to prescription medication does not really count. Whenever I see that a celebrity has admitted to taking drugs, I always get very excited. I always think of other people taking drugs as incredibly sexy, marijuana and alcohol aside, despite the fact that this has never been my personal experience and that most drugs shrink the peen. However, while George Michael smoking crack or Whitney smoking, well, everything is fascinating, I'm generally disappointed in the Hollywood elite when the most debaucherous substance they can come up with is Percosets. Leave the rooms at Promises open for those that actually need them. (I'm looking at you, Paula.) Or, conversely, get me some of this stuff so I can understand try many times over to understand the battle. Yes. That would work, too.


About a month ago, when I rejoined the land of employment, I began frequently riding the streetcar at 8am with a father and daughter. He is a haggard, bearded fellow nearing fifty and she, well, she's a kid. About 11, I'd say. The first day I saw them, he admonished her rather severely for losing her transfer. I could sense the other people around us getting tense and questioning his parenting, but in my head I was already defending him because kids are assholes. But also because no one on the bus knows the family dynamics or issues that are going on in strangers' lives. And guess what. That little girl? She's retarded. HA! See, I was right! I think she has autism or FAS or something; essentially she acts like a 3 year old, but in an absolutely beautiful way. She's so happy all the time. And before the PC nazis get all self-righteous about the use of the word 'retarded', I got news for you: that's what it she is. It exists. I'm not being mean or insensitive, but her brain functions slower. Granted, people misuse the word as a pejorative, yes, but that doesn't negate it's validity in the exact same way that using the word 'gay' as a substitute for every single negative adjective in the English language does not make me any less of a pole smoker. In fact, it is my opinion, the derogatory use of the word 'gay' essentially took a lot of heat off the word 'retarded', so you know what, you're welcome. RANT OFF.


In other news, my occasionally bicurious former shower/massage mate is coming into town soon for a few days. Things have remained platonic since our teens, but the facts that I've not indulged physically in four months and that he's built like a brick shit house may result in some serious nocturnal harrassment on my part. Happy endings count as host gifts, right?

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Definitely one of my favorite posts ever!

aw

Boyd and Lloyd said...

So tell me, why didn't I spot this blog before? It's brilliant!

Keep it up.

Love,
Boyd

Sandra said...

I, too, applaud this post! Yes, happy endings count as host gifts! And people who hate on the word retarded are retarded. I'm so mature, hehehe! I have to do something to rebel against my impending birthday!!

Anonymous said...

I hope this weekend is a big Merry Christmas/ Happy Hannukah to your sex life!!

Such a good writer!!!!!!!!!!!

s