Do I Suck? Why Yes! Yes I Do! (The Anti-Moi W/O)Jan 17 '04 Write an essay on this topic.
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The Bottom Line If you suck bad enough do they kick you out of the PTA?
Thank you, Munkus, for giving me the chance to purge my suckiness. The only thing I absolutely, under any circumstances whatsoever, refuse to divulge, is what kind of gum I like. That kind of information has no place on a family site. Everyone is prettier than you. Discuss. Am I an American woman? Yes. Do I have a distorted image of what is pretty? Yes. Can I find massive flaws with every square inch of my body? Yes. Is everyone prettier than me? Hell, no – they all have the same festering bundle of insecurities that I do. We’re all hags together! And if we’re not – please don’t destroy my delusion! Please!! What is the worst, most unforgivable thing you have done to another human being? Like a lot of people, I’m not giving number one. And you can’t make me. Well, you probably could, but I’d put up an embarrassing fuss. I will give you this one, though. After asking all my bridesmaids to be in my wedding (and telling the entire world about it), I realized the church was kind of small for us all at the front and callously “uninvited” two of them. Yes, I kicked people out of my own wedding party. Amazingly enough, we don’t remain close friends. Go figure. What kind of sexual inadequacies do you suffer? We're all friends here and promise not to tell. I hate to have sex without my socks on. My feet are always cold and I find this distracting. So my motto is: Do me, do my socks. How were you bullied at school? Why did you deserve it? No, I wasn’t really bullied, though if I had been I would undoubtedly have deserved it. I have a theory as to why I wasn’t bullied. Either I am, in fact, invisible, or I emit a strong aura of cold, hard bitchiness that few are brave enough to approach. Bolstering this theory: no panhandler has ever, ever, approached me. Not once. On several occasions, I have been walking with another person and they do get approached, but the guy always just sort of sidles away from me. Who did you bully at school? If you did not bully anyone was it because you were too much of a wimp yourself? I didn’t really do any bullying, either. And yes, it is because I was a complete and total sissy-wimp. Still am. The way I figure it, bullying might just destroy my cloak of invisibility and render my cold bitchy aura an appealing target. Wimpy, wimpy, wimplet. I don’t want to get beat up. And I’m too chicken to try and beat anyone else up as this would undoubtedly result in me getting beat up. I have an ass-whup phobia. What is your most disgusting bodily feature? Be graphic and as lurid and perverse as you can without being physically ill. Though vomit may be a good sign that you're on the right track. I am, without question, the whitest non-albino white person in the state of Wisconsin (notorious for its plethora of pasty white people). I can walk out onto my shaded driveway and within ten minutes (no lie) have a sunburn. And a burgeoning crop of freckles. To combat this, I must slather myself with 50 spf sunscreen – which always, always gives me a zit – or stay inside and cower in the darkness of my special sun-proof dungeon. When I do manage to get myself a sunburn, it peels. This is especially nice if I happen to burn the part in my hair. It’s a good look. This same nearly translucent skin also allows me to have these nice visible veins on my feet, the backs of my hands and my inner arms. Nurses love me because they can draw blood from across the room. Present three examples where your self esteem has hit an all time rock bottom and the alcoholic beverages you drank to cope. Interestingly (or not so much) all three of mine involve pregnancy in some way. How’s that for a fine endorsement of gestation? Some people love being pregnant, that glow and everything. I don’t glow, I sweat and waddle. 1) Nothing says “I am woman” like being a biological failure! I miscarried my first pregnancy. On New Years Eve. After making the disastrous mistake of telling (on Christmas Day) all the perspective aunts, uncles and grandparents that the first grandchild in either family was on the way. After miscarrying, I swilled beer, smoked cigarettes and stuffed my face with doughnuts, the rationale being that there was no baby to protect so I might as well do a little self-destructing! After a considerable amount of beer swilling, I began to loudly express my deep-seated resentment toward anyone who had ever experienced a blissful, uncomplicated pregnancy resulting in the birth of a full term healthy infant. I believe my neighbor (in the apartment next door) at the time was pregnant. Beverages of choice: Whatever beer they had at the convenience store across the street. 2) The couch divot While very pregnant with my son, I was put on bedrest. Let’s just state, for the record, that I do not gestate gracefully. I gain 50 pounds every time and look like I’m giving birth to a Volkswagen Beetle. Anyway, I was on the kind of bedrest where you have to lay on your left side only for hours and hours and hours at a time. After a few weeks of this, I noticed that the couch had developed a large divot exactly the size and shape of my enormous pregnant belly. I felt so pretty! No alcohol involved, but more doughnuts. The divot is still there, and if I’m not careful, someday someone will get stuck in it. 3) Feel the Love. After finally giving birth to that same child, a close family member saw a picture of me right before the Blessed Event. As a commentary on my radiant pregnant glow, she said, “You’re not big, you’re grotesque!” Again, no alcohol, only homicidal thoughts. Give an example where your heart was so broken you did nothing but eat icecream, cuddle your old soft toys and watching Jerry Springer crying out at the trailer trash "They may have their problems but AT LEAST THEY'RE LOVED WWWWWAAAAAAAAAA". The first boy I ever kissed had his friend call within the hour to break up with me. No ice cream, but I did lock myself in my room until my pillow was sodden with adolescent tears. WWWWAAAAAAAAAAA. How many times, on average, since were you born have your parents had wild, animalistic sex involving common kitchen utensils? Bonus Points awarded if you caught them in the act. Never saw, never heard. Does this scar me as much as seeing and hearing? How many times have you been caught by a spouse/child/boss looking up internet porn? I have no boss, my children are but wee mites and my spouse would cheer for an hour if he caught me looking up internet porn. All the more reason to be as stealthy as possible. Give some examples of random malice you performed, preferably at strangers I don’t perpetuate a lot of random acts of malice, due almost entirely to an overactive sense of guilt (and that nagging ass-whup phobia). I may think them – frequently – but rarely do them. I still feel guilty about the bridesmaid thing (and secretly fear that one day they’ll hunt me down and kick my ass). I do like to give the finger while driving, though I know I shouldn’t. They all deserve it. I once made myself cry on purpose in a store because the clerks were rude. Their boss was not happy. It was a beautiful thing. I bitched out a lady from Planned Parenthood on the phone because she was trying to make me feel guilty about the amount of money I’d given them that year. She kept saying that if I didn’t give more, then Roe v Wade would get overturned, and then what would I think? As a long time supporter of the organization, I didn’t appreciate this guilt trip, as I already have enough guilt of my own. I gave her a sound verbal thrashing the likes of which have rarely if ever been given to anyone other than my husband (and he loves me, so ignores them) and hung up on her. They called again the next day. ~sigh~ Man, I do suck. Please, go see the massive suckage on display here. And thank you, thank you, Munkus, for stimulating this outpouring of ickiness. ‘Twas a joy to take part.  |
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