Sometimes, when I watch the Emmy's, and some handsome guy or girl talks about some awful thing that's happening and he or she gets all bloated and acts like he or she is Jonas Salk or somethin' er uther and goes on about WE SHOULD and WE WILL and PAKISTAN and TAKES A VILLAGE and OUR CRAFT and THIS IS YOURS AS MUCH AS MINE and WE HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO TEACH THE WORLD I just wish that he or she would get a sudden and startling and completely incapacitating big gnarly out-of-control stinky ass butt violent attack of exploding diarrhea that would make him or her run off stage screaming for a diaper.
But that's just me. Because I'm mean and resentful in my prayer. And I realize that this hateful trait will deliver me a fiery reckoning one day. And I am prepared for that because I know nothing...AND I MEAN NOTHING that happens to me will be as bad as what should happen to Jewell.
Color me crotchety,
Helen the Hisser