Tag Archives: jokes

Gleefully Overdosing on Heroin

Recently a cast member of Glee overdosed on heroin and died.  People acted like he was a police officer that got killed after saving a baby from a pedophile, maniac, bank-robber, instead of a 30-something who plays a teenager, who is a junkie, and who died from partying too hard while enjoying his millionaire, celebrity lifestyle a bit too much.  Anyone with any sense of perspective could agree that his death is not in the “tragedy” category.  However after making a small post on Facebook about it, a bunch of people I barely know decided to comment on it to shame me for saying that celebrities addicted to heroin deserve their imminent deaths.  What is so controversial about this?  I think that after the Martin/Zimmerman verdict, the Arizona firefighters, and the generally unrest on the other side of the world, this actor’s wild Saturday night is not nearly as newsworthy.  But it was on TV for over a week.  It was on International news for over four days.  It’s obscene.  I’m going to update this post tomorrow when I’m less lazy with some of the better “dark-sense-of-humor-shaming” quotes from my wall.

I have never tried heroine, but if I did, I suspect it would be really, really, good.  People who do it never say that it is the worst feeling ever and try to avoid it a lot after trying it.  On these grounds I am willing to believe that, as a substance, heroine produces feelings of intense euphoria, the likes of which I will never, hopefully, know.  Actual life is actually pretty shitty a lot of the time (if you’re doing it right), and being given the euphoria of an intense narcotic cannot be good for human brains.  Anyone who tries heroine is trying to kill themselves, at least a little.  I bet Jesus did heroine… Nah.  But Lindsay Lohan for sure.  And Amanda Bynes… Maybe.

I have completed my training at the trailer-park-college, and I am now slaving at the trailer-park-law office of Dewey, Cheatem & Howe.  My rural town office setting is pretty entertaining for me, they listen to the country music station, they talk about hunting, and the phrase “as useless as tits on a bull” has been uttered.  Did I mention I work in an office with only female coworkers?  Well, I do.  In all honesty, it is the best job I have ever had, and I am only guaranteed to keep it for a month.  After which time they could just say “Thanks for the month of free typing, filing, and general awesomeness”.  The location is perfect for me. I live fifteen minutes from the city, and the office is fifteen minutes further away than me, and it is proudly “Country” out that way.  Everyone has a truck, and an ATV, and a ski-doo for the winter.  If I have to, I will wear cowboy boots and a hat to get hired on full-time.  It’s an ideal small office with few people to answer to, lots of work, and opportunities to learn a lot about law.  More updates on this to come.

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I visited my parents for father’s day and dug through a bunch of old pictures and uploaded them on facebook, no matter how unflattering the selections from “the awkward years”- they were shared. It created a mini-middle school reunion on my timeline and gave me warm fuzzies (which is hard to do to such a jaded, bitter cunt such as myself). I really love seeing pictures of myself before I knew anything about the world. I look so much more naturally happy. I love seeing pictures with outdated hair and clothing. I like seeing my friends faces with braces. The picture above is Xmas 1990, I think. My cousin Aaron also got the same ensemble and together we were fearsome little batmen.

I have too few pictures like this due to a fire that burnt down our house in the early 90s, which sounds horrible and traumatic, but because of my age and how close (and generally awesome) my family and community were at the time, the event had no negative impact on me… It did teach me about helping when someone needs it, as many people donated everything and anything we needed to get by. We were very fortunate that no one was hurt, and that my cat Chaos, my turtle Myrtle, and Paulie the budgie were the only casualties. Oh, and all my Mom and Dads shit. Like everything. It had zero effect on me at the time, but if that happened to me now I don’t know how I’d deal with it as the adult in the situation. I’m so proud and appreciative of my parents for keeping it together and making my early years so incredibly joyful, safe, and full of love. That’s how I remember it anyway, and I guess that’s the only thing that matters. It made the tween years (as they call them now, we didn’t have it yet) so much easier.

I’ve had such a great life so far, really, and everything is still looking up. It all seems too good to be true sometimes. This is where my hereditary paranoia starts to set in and I realize that life has been far too good for far too long and the shit will surely hit the fan soon. Will I discover that my partner is secretly a cross dressing necrophiliac? Will I find out my mother is a republican? I’ll let you know when my bubble bursts, but until then I will try to keep up the classy genital jokes and racially charged statements.

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