Listening to the Bob and Tom Show this morning, while showering, (to be all sparkly and clean, to take my mom to the DMV). Bob/Tom etal are always good for a laff, IMHO.
The topic this fine morning? The space station. And the difficulty level of outside repairs. Specifically, repairs allocated to the "Womens" aboard the station. You know...waiting for them to get ready to go outside and all.
"Does this spacesuit make my butt look big?"
"Just a sec. I'm having a bad hair day, hon."
"Is this color good? I mean, for me?"
Don't know about you, but me? Laffed-my-ample-buttinski-off!
I realized how much I've, (for lack of a better word), "matured". In the good ol' days, a few short years ago--(ok. ok. 20, even 30, or so years ago)--I would have shouted to the rooftops, concerning the "INJUSTICE OF IT ALL, DAMNIT!".
In conclusion, and in the interest of brevity:
If you can't laff at that, you seriously need some kind of intervention.
A "Funny-Bone-Type-Intervention", if you will. A sort of internal check, for that elusive "what's really important, anyway?" gene.
Laff and the world laffs with you. Grumble and complain, and you do it alone.
2 comments:
Actually, I find alot like to grumble and complain along with me. :)
I'd actually be happy, Kat. To join you, im g/c. ;)
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