The 100 Days of Misery Project: Chunk Two

#100daysofmisery #Day11 : The summer Oscar winning actor Adrien Brody was six, I was his bunk counselor at sleepaway camp. He went on to act in many fine films and work with multiple acclaimed directors. I went on to become a man who can drop the name ‘Adrien Brody’ when the occasion calls for it, which, if I am honest, it rarely does. And yet I manage to drop his names several times in any given year. My point? Six is too damn young to send a kid to sleepaway camp.

 

#100daysofmisery #Day12 : Sometimes I say “Okey-dokey”. I promise myself I won’t ever say it again, and then I hear it coming out of my mouth. I want to say “I am not the kind of man who says ‘Okay-dokey’”, but there is empirical evidence that I am.

 

#100daysofmisery #Day13 : What I ‘like’ most about Facebook is when someone posts something sad or awful and people ‘like’ it. “Yesterday evening my beloved Irish Wolf Hound Cletus passed into the light” 4 ‘likes’. “I am using my left had to ype this post, as my right hand wss torn off by a thresher” You and seven others ‘like’ this. It’s the ultimate extension of not knowing the right thing to say. I dread the day when Facebook inevitably adds a suite of buttons. A ‘condolences’ button, an ‘I hate that too’ button, a ‘shadenfreude’ button. Let all the world be completely limited in their emotional response to ‘liking’ things.

 

#100daysofmisery #Day14 : A long time ago I saw a young couple walking by a river in a park. The girl pointed out a mother duck and her ducklings to the boy, saying “Oh, look, ducklings! Aren’t they sweet?” to which the boy replied “All becoming is essentially decay.” The ‘boy’ in the story was not me. That is not the point of the story. The point of the story is the inescapable tyranny of entropy.

 

#100daysofmisery #day15 : When the 1980 Brooke Shields vehicle “The Blue Lagoon” was being cast, a nationwide talent search was held to find an unknown to play her love interest. Producers came to my school and asked to see the students most interested in acting. As I opened the door to the office, before I had even entered the room, one of them said “Oh, that’s not what we meant.” Christopher Atkins got the role, and was described in the film’s trailer as “A young God sprung from the sea.” Having seen myself in a bathing suit, I was forced to agree with the results of my audition.

 

#100daysofmisery #Day16 : I dreamed I was Aqualad, and the Teen
 Titans were going on a mission and I had to go too. I hadn’t been 
around all that much lately, I’d been bagging on missions a lot because of other commitments, but this time they really needed me and 
it seemed important so I was going. The costume in my locker was old, and it shrank or I had put on weight. I couldn’t get the bathing trunks part past my thighs. I tell the other Titans “Just go, I’ll catch up” but I’m not going to catch up, because the costume totally doesn’t fit anymore. I feel particularly bad because they maintain a salt water pool for me. Because I’m Aqualad. I know I’m letting them down.

 

#100daysofmisery #Day17 : I am frequently told I make a lot of empty threats. To me, that doesn’t seem like something people should complain about. I mean… oh, wait. It just occurred to me that one alternative to making empty threats is to not threaten people. See, I was thinking actually carrying out threats was the only alternative. Huh. I guess this whole hundred days of misery thing is really making me grow as a person.

 

#100daysofmisery #Day18 : Here is the birthday song my Grandpa Irving used to sing to me. It is sung to the tune of “The Volga Boatmen” which is easy enough for you to look up, if that kind of thing is your game.

 

Happy Birthday,

Happy Birthday,

Children crying everywhere,

People dying everywhere,

But happy birthday…

To you.

 

#100daysofmisery #Day19 : I hate how little lawn my house has. Just two thin strips of green out front. It really limits my opportunities to tell people to ‘get the hell off my lawn’. Yelling ‘get the hell of my lawn’ at people when they are on the sidewalk is a sad substitute. The sidewalk isn’t even technically mine, it belongs to the city. Lately I have taken to yelling ‘get the hell of my lawn’ at people on sidewalks that aren’t even in my neighborhood. It’s not as good as if I had a lawn, but it is more okay than I would have thought.

 

#100daysofmisery #Day20 : When I was in second grade I had a crush on this girl, so I wrote her a note saying I liked her and brought it in to school. I very casually walked past her desk and let it drop. A few minutes later she very casually walked past my desk and dropped the note. On the blank side, she had written “Why did you give me this?” I turned it over intending to write “Because I really like you” and found the other side was blank as well. Somehow I had managed to bring the wrong piece of paper, a blank piece of paper from home. I gave her a crush note that said nothing at all. So I wrote ‘because I like you’ on it anyway. I mean, what the hell, right? Surprisingly, nothing came of it.

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