What’s it gonna take? Seriously, tell me and I’ll do it. Pie to the face? Kick to the groin? Clown makeup and balloon porn? What will make you smile, dang it! That’s a question for my 3 readers; MyEx need not reply; the whips and chains take a much darker design after our divorce.
“No Mr. Boyd, I want you to die.”
Everything takes a darker design after divorce. The sunrise is too blinding; the moon is too pocked; the house is too quiet. The same things we loved before our marriage have turned into an endless SNL skit; it was funny at first, but now it’s just old.
Bloggers are gripping their teddies and soaking their sheets, and it’s not just about divorce. There’s foreclosures, bankruptcies, and joblessness, oh my! And if these things aren’t bad enough, we’re learning to mix and match our woes like Garanimals of whininess.
“You got your divorced-real estate in my unemployment!” Yeah, I got my mixed metaphor all over everybody’s monitor. It isn’t pretty. It’s not even that funny. Yeah sorry. I could walk around in my Superman Underoos if that will help.
The worlds a scary place today. The wolf is at the door, and there are naked mimes running against the wind on every street corner.
“...” He said sadly, running a finger to trace the imaginary tear.
“Mom! Our neighbor is crying naked on the lawn!”
“No Timmy, that’s not Rob, that’s a mime. Rob’s the naked guy playing Moby Dick in the pool. Just stay in your room and play Xbox today.”
Don’t hide inside. Come out and play. Really, I only want to see you all smile. I mean lets face it: things suck, especially after divorce. Here’s the good news though: unlike my blog, life does get better. There will come a day when you will find something really funny and you’ll laugh. Trust me. It just may not happen here.
“Abandon hope all who read here…”
In the mean time though, I’ll try what I can. It’s what I did with MyEx When we were together. Whether it was screaming “Scooby Dooby Doo” during sex, or just helping her find the fun in life’s low points, I did what I could. Ok, maybe those two are the same thing. The important thing is that I tried.
I try to do the same for all my friends, because we all need to smile. Too many things go wrong, and it’s so easy to just let them get to you. I may not have learned how to hold a marriage together but I did learn a thing or two about finding humor. Sometimes it’s all you have.
That gets tough when everything is not After-School Special sweet and easy. Some of life’s dramas are Deadwood dirty. That’s why we need to collect smiles like where bartering with mad dentists. We need a few grins for a rainy day.
That’s been my goal all along—whether intentional or not. When I was twenty I was left alone on a freight elevator with a rolling rack and a pile of rolled carpets. The door closed on the second floor, I waved goodbye, and when the doors opened on the first floor I was Da Vinci’s Vitruvian man, pinned to the elevator wall by an akimbo rack, my legs trapped against carpet. That’s right, Rob, a living work of art. I remained that way for quite I while employees paraded by, laughing.
See, I am the McGyver of misadventure. Give me a roll of duct tape and fifteen minutes, and I’ll give you Rob hogtied with an apple in his mouth.
That’s why I blog: It’s safer. Still my friends, you need to smile. I may be in hiding but you need to get out there. Life is too short. Sure, things are bad, but they can’t stay that way. Get out there and find yourself a Rob to laugh at. You need it and it will stick in your memory like superglue and peanut butter. What’s more, a Rob is better than a pet, cuz you don’t have to feed him. Just wind him up and watch the comedy. It’ll add 15 minutes to your life.
Andy Worhol predicted that in the future everybody would be Rob blessed for 15 minutes. This is your 15 minutes, so c’mon, have some fun.
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