So Much Hate

Daily writing prompt
What tattoo do you want and where would you put it?

Spoiler alert, I am probably going to swear a lot in this post. You’ve been warned.

I hate tattoos. I really hate them. I really fucking hate them. My wife has one, but she got it before we met and I immediately taught myself to not be bothered by it. It wasn’t hard for me to do because she’s amazing and I am crazy about her. Crazy enough to barely even see her tattoo. Her tattoo is okay by me. Every other tattoo….

I fucking loathe tattoos. I can’t state that strongly enough. I hate tattoos as much as I hate fascists. I hate tattoos as much as I hate the maga cult. I hate tattoos almost as much as I hate the New York Yankees. That’s a lot of hate.

I mean I really… fucking… hate… tattoos. I really fucking hate tattoos. Are you picking up what I am putting down? I hate them… a lot.

So no, I don’t want a fucking tattoo. No, I am not planning on getting a fucking tattoo. I am not going to scar my skin with a permanent mark that looks like mud that will never, ever wash off. No. Fuck tattoos. I am never getting a fucking tattoo.

My wife’s tattoo is okay by me. Every other tattoo? No fucking way.

Dig it?

The Dishwasher Follies

Yesterday our dishwasher was dead.

Today our dishwasher was fixed.

Later today our dishwasher was dead again.

Still later today our dishwasher was fixed again. It’s actually running as I type this.

I think that’s enough dishwasher shenanigans. It’s not dead, but it’s dead to me. We went shopping for a new one tonight. I’ll keep you posted on the progress because I can tell by the look on all of your faces that you cannot wait to hear how this turns out.

More info coming as it develops.

Stay tuned.

Want Some Good News?

Hey everyone, want to hear some good news? Some happy news? Something to cheer you up after months and months of gloom?

Spring starts today. In the Eastern Time Zone in the United States (where I live), Spring officially starts at 11:06pm.

That sound you just heard was my emphatic sigh of relief. Sure, I will likely be asleep when the change happens (I hope so at least, I am beat today) but I will celebrate it just as well.

Kiss my ass, winter. Don’t let the door hit you on the ass on your way out.

Narrow it Down

Daily writing prompt
What is one word that describes you?

One word to describe me? Can a single word describe anyone? I don’t think so. We are too complicated. Even the least complex personality is too detailed to boil down to a single word. Even a farcical, one dimensional tool bag like donald trump is too involved for a single word. You could try to sum him up with nazi but that isn’t enough. You also need words like idiot. Idiot nazi. You need words like orange. Idiot orange nazi. You need words like incompetent. Idiot orange incompetent nazi. And so on and so forth.

I’ll try though. Here’s a list of possibilities…

  • tall
  • red
  • altered
  • butchered
  • redesigned
  • bypassed
  • underachieving
  • husband
  • step father (yeah, that’s two words. Shoot me)
  • mediocre
  • meh

All of those words seem to fit on one level or another.

Compliments

Daily writing prompt
What was the best compliment you’ve received?

There are two answers to this question. One is serious and professional and I will not give any details about it. The other is a goofy thing from when I was a teenager.

There are actually two professional things that I could use here. Two people who reported to me both said things that affected me in very positive ways. I will not share either thing because I don’t care to break confidence. I’m like a priest hearing confession and I ain’t given anything up. Well… like a priest without all of the child rape and atrociously evil cover ups. So really nothing like a priest, but you get the idea. Okay, enough about this one.

The compliment I’ll share is silly. I think I was a sophomore in high school. My friend Mike and I were trying to learn new musical instruments. Guitar for me and bass for him. We had a friend who could play the drums. We got together and had a jam. The drummer had an older brother who played guitar. He was in the room with us, just hanging out and listening. I was pretty new at guitar, but I had been playing music for years (on the saxophone and briefly on the trumpet) so musically speaking I kinda knew what I was doing and as a result I was picking things up on guitar pretty quickly. While we were jamming away I did… something. I am not sure what, but I think I was probably improvising something. The drummer’s guitar playing brother stood up and said, “I gotta take a walk” and left the room. I guess I impressed him a little.

That’s it. That’s the compliment. I never forgot that. My ego swelled four sizes that day. I was so pleased with myself that I may have actually started to glow. The post script on this was that the drummer’s guitar playing brother should not have been disturbed by anything I did because he was good. He was way better than me. I’m guessing he still is.

There is a third potential answer to this question as well. It’s actually a series of things. They aren’t compliments per se, but they affected me in similar Earth rocking ways. First, there was this woman who agreed to go on a date with me. Nice! Second, about a year later I got down on one knee and asked her to marry me. She said yes. Nice! About a year later we stood in front of our families and we both said, “I do” to each other. Nice! Like I said, they aren’t compliments in the strictest sense of the word, but they have a similar affect. They are each like a huge compliment on steroids and multiplied by about 10 zillion.

And there you have it, folks. My compliment history in a nutshell. Happy Monday, everyone.