I Wrote What You Told Me (Again) – Part II

Raccoon
Yes, Jimmy, if you lie God will tell this monster to climb into your bedroom window at night and rip you to shreds with it's razor-claws. This is why we leave the window in your bedroom unlocked.

Yesterday, to celebrate the holiday of a Jew named Jesus’ birthday (…or is it today? I could never figure that one out.) I turned off my brain and asked you to flip yours on. You told me what to write. So I did.

Here’s part II.

  • Sarah G.  –  Tell us about when you found out Santa wasn’t real.

Third grade. A little piece of shit named MonkeyMan Magoo (not his really name, but he might read the blog, plus he looks like a monkey) decided to tell all of us. We were all lined up to hug our third grade teacher Mrs. Groesch as we were leaving class to go on holiday break.  MonkeyMan Magoo decided to ruin the surprise. He walked up the line telling everyone one-on-one, “There is no Santa Claus.” Traumatic – yes. However he went on to develop a bad drug addiction, outstanding warrants, and even some jail time. That erased any trauma.

  • Cheryl Z. – How you got stuck in a chimney

I once got stuck in a chimney because I wanted to hang out in a chimney. It seemed cool at the time. Neither hanging out in the chimney nor getting stuck in the chimney kicked fanny. 3/10

  • Ashley O – The necessity of wine over the next 48 hours.

We’re of course talking about family. I don’t drink at all because I love to drink more than the average person who loves to drink. So, we’re really discussing tolerance. I don’t mean alcohol tolerance but tolerance of things that are done that we don’t like by family. I escape, not through wine, but through being alone. I retire to my childhood bedroom to “write” when I mostly just screw around. That’s unhealthy too, though, so I’m learning how to sit in environments I can’t control – a family. My parents and sister are wonderful, but I still get annoyed at things they do. This whole vacation I’ve been saying “tolerate” in my head when I get a feeling to run away at full speed. It works.

Okay, before Hostess closed down the Twinkies offices I propose none of you bastards had eaten one in twelve years. Nobody gave a rat’s darn about the Twinkies before or since. Yes, I know we like to wax nostalgic about it, like we do with awful bands like Poison, but the fact remains if Twinkies were a great treat we’d be eating them as adults. Now, if you’re a mom you get no input on this one. Yes, you eat Twinkies but that’s only because you buy them for your kids. You also eat Lunchables, too. You’re just in the general proximity of Twinkies. Yes, they were a fine snack but I felt they paled next to a Hostess Cupcake. Anyone who chooses a Snowball is a complete psychopath in my book, fyi.

  • Laura L –  How it sucks ass to work on Christmas Eve.

The last time I had to do this I was sixteen and working in a bar. I got tons of free booze and was off by 6pm. So I have no complaints. But those of you who work in retail or are nurses or prostitutes who moonlight on Christmas Eve, I am sympathetic to your plight. Here’s what I say to you – you’re not missing as much as you think. We have a huge party at my house on Christmas Eve, and while it’s fun, we’re washing dishes until 2am. Plus, you know there’s the drunk uncle that likes to hug a little too long. And if it’s just time you get to spend with your children and husband, you can do that whenever. Take ’em to the zoo in April. It’s basically the same thing.

Raccoon
Yes, Jimmy, if you lie God will tell this animal to climb into your bedroom  at night and rip you to shreds with it’s razor-claws. This is why we leave the window in your bedroom unlocked.

photo credit: Tambako the Jaguar via photopin cc

8 thoughts on “I Wrote What You Told Me (Again) – Part II”

  1. Katjaneway says:

    I love lemurs lol. Also, you’re right about the twinkies. And the cupcakes were SOOO much better. I almost bought those, once. I’m good at not buying temptation, though. I’m just not good at not eating it when it’s front of me…

    1. D.J. Paris says:

      Amy, welcome to the club…

  2. Jenny says:

    I totally go for the Snowballs! First I peel off the coconut marshmallow layer and roll it up into this really smooshy penis shape and eat the whole thing at once. Thats the best part, imho. Then what you have left is basically a hostess cupcake, minus the hard frosting which is gross anyhow. I could just throw that out the window, but usually just eat it because its there.

    1. D.J. Paris says:

      Jenny, you’re clearly a psychopath as nobody normal eats Snowballs.

  3. Kate Hall says:

    I just always assumed that because Twinkies last forever that they would be around forever. I won’t feed that crap to my kids. But I loved them as a kid myself, especially frozen. I liked frozen ho-ho’s and wheelies too. Although, I think I was the only person to call them wheelies – they looked like car tires. Yum!

    1. D.J. Paris says:

      The Wheelies had an outer shell that was not forged by man.

  4. MizYank says:

    You’ve got me dead to rights on the Twinkies. Thanks to a sister with juvenile diabetes, I think I’ve eaten a grand total of two of them in my 41 years, both consumed before I turned 12. They should just enshrine them in the Museum of American History, right next to Dorothy’s ruby red slippers. (Hilarious list of professions that work the night shift, by the way…)

    1. D.J. Paris says:

      Ha – thanks for reading. I’d rather have the transcripts of some of Judy Garland’s legendary breakdowns enshrined. Google them!

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