Why it’s Greased Lightning!!!!!!!!!!
Today’s been weird to say the least. I never thought myself to be a “blog” kind of person. I had one a while back. I was vapid and shallow, talked about ignorant material things (mainly because at time, I was vapid, shallow, ignorant and materialistic…)
Of course, I’m so past that now. (shh, I am.)
Today I found myself on the receiving end of a less than favorable blast of unwarranted verbal accusations. The pot was calling the tv black. I was not just thrown off but annoyed. The pot (who shall remain anon.) was accusing me (the tv) of doing what the pot had just done to me. … huh… ? I bit my tongue and decided to sit to the side and was hit with a spontaneous out of body experience (8 I flew through space and time into my purse in search of candy. I was floating just above my wallet, about to enter an interior side pocket (I KNOW there were some tic tacs, maybe some of those halls strawberry slobber drops? in there) when I was SAVAGELY slammed back into my body with, “What’s your problem?”
I had no problem, I just looked blank I’m sure. I couldn’t very well tell him I was on a candy hunt on an astral plane. Things were really tense and I doubt he’d have gone for it. I tried to play it off but failed. I wound up explaining that I couldn’t say anything because no matter what I said he would play the martyr and villanize me then apologize for something that never really occurred just to portray me as “the asshole.” That opening my mouth was a lose/lose situation.
I prepared for the retaliation and what came made me freeze in my tracks for fear of the look on my face. What he retaliated with was..
What does martyr mean?
woah, I felt bad. I explained and we worked it out. We were fine it was just situational tension.
BUT
The INSTANT he asked that question an EXPLOSION of blogs shot through my head haha! I had all kinds of chaos writing, rewriting, flying off on tangents. My personal favorite was titled “Can I borrow a Christian?”
That particular bubble was centered around our misuse and abuse of the words martyr and “get off the cross” when confronted with whiny, pity partiers. I was thinking about how of all the offensive things you can do to a christian you NEVER hear them complain about people making light of their savior’s sacrifice. I’m guilty. I’ve asked a lot of people to hop off. I even mentioned it to Miss Isaiah at the gas station by my house. He said, “Giiiiiirl, I can’t tell him sorry for you – you got to get down on your KNEES!” I thought wow, that’s not going to work. I respect the living shedoobie out of what others believe – doesn’t mean I share it… I said I thought She’d be more convincing than I would. In the time it took to snag a pint of banana pudding ice cream and split (yeah, pun blah blah) I’d practically started a revival! …whoops…
You have to understand, I live in the middle of nowhere in the middle of some woods. Love the seclusion, we the wrecked and whacked out all seem to (8 ANYway, if you talk to Jesus… I just want to say I didn’t mean to make light of the whole died for your sins thing, cool?
In the middle of all that about nine gazillion other ideas popped in my head, none panned out too richly or I’d be able to remember the topics. Point is, ever since I started this thing a few days ago it’s been squatting in the back of my head. A little gremlin chanting all kinds of fun things to write to me.
One in particular is the death trap that is my car. Literally my car is lethal. Two lives have been taken just by riding in my car. Literally. I poop you not. One made it from A to B sickened then gave up the ghost before dawn the next morning. The other never made it to B. Poor soul got in my car fine and healthy, came out dead.
I’m currently planning to offer my car to Homeland Security to use in questioning terrorist suspects while in transit to Guantanamo Bay (did I spell that right?) I figure if the death car can’t make them confess ALL their horrific deeds and secrets, nothing will.
It is my patriotic duty, wouldn’t you think? Of course our service men and women would be at risk… The only possibility for survival is up front, certainly in the driver’s seat.
On second thought, no… it’s too risky. We can’t put our troops’ lives in that kind of jeopardy. (UNLESS – yeah – autopilot, robot drivers – awesome!)
Or not. Just a thought.
I really need to keep track of all the tangents and mental spooge that flies through my head, I crack me up. If I could write as fast as I talk that would be awesome.
My prose/poetry/writen-stuff is all subliminal. I’ve no idea what it is till I go back and read it. That’s always fun.
I will try to grab the lightning and go on a real tear soon and let you see what it’s like to live in my bipolarass head – it’s never dull.
Times like this, it’s fun. When I whip out the “prose” it’s something from a dark place. Don’t assume my mood from what I post though. Just because I throw prose on here doesn’t necessarily mean I’m on a downswing. If I’m blathering like this you know I’m either in a good mood or the klonopin has kicked in.
Speaking of klonopin, it’s time, it’s time!
peacy outu
p.s. Why the silent treatment, leaving a comment of some sort is not only healthy, it gives the psychiatrically challenged writer of the blog validation, we feel that it’s a necessary step in the socialization process and would ultimately be nothing but beneficial to both parties involved. um.. Medically speaking of course. yeah, that’s it. yeah.
Signed, Notta Shrink B.S.md
Did I just say that out loud? 
[…] https://eggstacee.wordpress.com/2011/07/21/why-its-greased-lightning/ THE INFAMOUS DEATH CAR POST. I’m about to fall over, I just found out several people I know had no idea what I was talking about when I spoke of the “death car.” I’m accusing them of being traitors, (earning a ride in the death car hahaha,) but they just didn’t know of the post at all. Alors, voici.. je l’ecrit pour vous maitenant mes palourdes. <- a kickback to an old old attempt at a minor blog effort […]
Old Posts don’t die… « Did I just say that out loud?
July 23, 2011