Posted 10:51 AM by ill
Talking with my mouth full of foot

I've discovered something about myself.... well no, that's not completely honest. I've known this for a very long time. I may just now be accepting it. Vocalizing it so that I can make the first step to recovery. I have a tendency to say the completely wrong thing at the wrong time. It’s uncanny. Really.

I like to think that most people have a little valve on their brain that filters out things that are thought but not generally said for fear of offending or hurting someone’s feelings. Most folks think it, chuckle to their self, and then move on with the socializing. Unfortunately my little valve is stuck open. It filters nothing. If it pops in to my little pea brain chances are good it's going to come right out of my mouth. I do it all the time... for that matter I’ve done it since I was a child. It's what I do. For instance, I was in fourth grade my father had told a dirty joke at the dinner table (he was notorious for this and probably, no definitely, the source of my foot and mouth disease). I didn't get the joke. Not one bit of it. So I told it the next day at school. At lunch. To the teacher... And you know what? When I got to the punch line, I got it. See one of those moments. So maybe that wasn't the best example as the blame could squarely be placed on my father’s shoulders and my innocence. But it was just one of many situations where I should have just kept my big fat mouth shut. Like asking a woman when her baby is due only to find out that she was just fat. These are pretty common blunders and ones that can be easily, yet uncomfortably, backpedaled out of. The biggest problem I have in this though is the humorous comments I make at the drop of a hat. Now I will admit that sometimes my humor borders on genius and everyone laughs until their sides hurt. Unfortunately the other 99.9% of the time you could hear a pin drop. I make my comment, look around the room at the horrified faces... then make with the apologies. "No really, I'm sorry, see I was just making a joke. I didn't realize it was a serious discussion about your husband having three testicles... If I had known I never would have called him Chock-Fulla-Nuts. Really... I truly am sorry." I find I spend half my life talking and the other half apologizing for what I just said. It's a fascinating concept that for some reason I never seem to tire from. At least I must not after all it hasn't stopped me from doing it. The worst part about it is I not only have to apologize to the people I offended, but I then have to drive home from these engagements with my wife, sitting cross armed in the passenger seat as I try to defend my verbal actions. "No really, I think if you stop and think about it you really will find it funny. Seriously. Think about it.. Not even a little funny? No... I'll send an email when I get home apologizing again."

So I guess all I can say is I am trying. Not always successfully but I am trying to not do it so much. I will do my best to keep these things from taking place but I consider it the equivalent of verbally passing gas. I'm in an environment where I’m comfortable and relaxed and BRRRRAAT! Out it comes. I hate that it happens and sure I have to apologize profusely afterwards but at the moment... it just felt right.

"WOW! Your eyes are really close together... I mean it's almost simian like... What? Oh. No it was a joke... No... You're right... I'm sorry... Really. "

Posted 12:17 PM by ill
Pulling out of the funk and into the silly...

I've been especially morose as of late. A trait I picked up in my childhood and tends to rear its ugly head periodically in my adult life. I don't know why really. Angst? Depression? This constant search for the one honest person? No wait.. That wasn't me that was Diogenes. Well, no matter the reasons it has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember and will probably continue for the rest of my time on this little blue-green ball of mud. All in all though I've been pulling myself out of the funk. I think many times I get in to these moods just so I can feel the rush of getting out of them. There’s nothing like the adrenaline rush of manic mood swings...

But the old ill is coming back, at least for a few days anyway. So I'm sure new silliness will abound!

So the weekend... wow what can I say about that. Two. Count 'em! TWO keg parties. I know, I know... I'm an old man. These parties should be reserved for younger more able-bodied folks then me but screw it. Every now and then you need the pain and discomfort of a "too much beer" hangover. The jackhammers in my head and the salmon going upstream in my stomach to spawn let me know I'm still alive. I have to be alive. If it feels like that to be dead then no thank you! The Saturday party was nice. An interesting collection of folks that afforded me the drunken philosophical debates that I’ve become famous for at parties such as these. At one party I ended up in a particularly heated debate over the need of man to create a physical shrine of objects around him to create an aura of self-importance. I was doing very well in this debate I had the poor fellow on the ropes so to speak. After a beautiful fifteen-minute diatribe my point was made and cast in stone. Completely unbreakable... Then I discovered I had this conversation with a wall mirror... no wonder the guy kept talking over me. Oddly enough this little display made me somewhat of the social leper for the rest of the evening... No matter. I still won the debate.