Ho Ho… Uh, No

I love holidays.

Truly, I do.

But Christmas decorations and shopping frenzies taking center stage before Thanksgiving?

Or before even Halloween, for that matter?

What’s up with that?

Unless you’re a retailer…

In which case,  the thrill of Back to School/Halloween/Thanksgiving/Christmas/New Year all start in July.

Who needs one holiday at a time? 

Bring ’em on!

Bring ’em ALL on!!!

(Literally. Everywhere. There’s no escape.)

(Because why the hell not, right? It’s never too early, apparently.)

(T’is the season… for what, exactly? It’s getting to be far too confusing anymore.)

(As efficient as Back to School/Halloween/Christmas shopping all at once might seem, this isn’t what I picture when I think about “one stop shopping”.)

(November isn’t technically off-limits for Christmas cheer… but September and October are definitely pushing it.)

(You know what they say- if the bottle ain’t opening, it ain’t time yet. Try again later. Like after Thanksgiving, perhaps.)

(It’s hard to argue with the fact that Thanksgiving is indeed rooted in violence, but it isn’t typically the turkey doing the carving.)

(On the bright side, if you get it all out of the way now, you may be able to avoid getting out of the house again until well after the New Year!)

(What a great way to cover nearly half a year’s worth of holidays under one convenient catchphrase!)

(Well, at least since Halloween is done and Witchy Poo finally got her turn, Santa is now only trying to push his way in front of one other guy…)

(I think it’s safe to say that turkeys everywhere are sick of playing second fiddle to Santa.)

(And it would appear that the Pilgrims are none too pleased, either…)

(Nor is Grumpy Cat. But then, when is he ever in the mood to celebrate anything?)

(But we all have different opinions, and that’s okay. If Darth Vader is feeling the spirit of the season already, more power to him.)

The magic of the season is undeniable.

Even though I’m not entirely sure what season we’re celebrating at the moment…

All I know is that I’m not quite ready for Christmas music or Christmas shopping…

Or even putting up the Christmas tree.

The insanity of the season can wait.

Right now, I’m perfectly content with relishing the delightful crackle of vibrant autumn leaves beneath my feet on a crisp November morning.

Unless, of course, I’m somehow magically gifted with a one way ticket to a remote tropical island.

Then I’m all for it.

Ho ho ho!

~Happy Saturday, friends! Have a terrific weekend!~ 

Bigly Bestest Selfies

@thebiglybestestdoggieHuman trying to take selfies with me. Can’t decide whether to eat the camera or her. Will decide…right after she’s done rubbing my belly.

~Happy Tuesday, friends! Thanks for joining us for more twit-tweeting doggie fun! Please stop by and check out the hilarious new about page for Tails ‘n’ Tweets with Jett!~

A Dynamic Duo

Two of the most dreaded things in life:

Going to the doctor…

And waiting.

Pair those two things together and you’ve got a recipe for disaster.

Especially when you add a couple of kids to the mix.

Then things really start to get ugly.

Yeah.

It’s a disastrous combination.

Meow Mix tastes like crap!

When is that guy coming in here again?

This, evidently, is how my boys enjoy passing the painful expanse of time waiting for the doctor.

Eww! Who farted?

Are you sure it wasn’t you?

Poop smells terrible…ly good!

What is the matter with you?

I’m tired! And I’ve had too much caffeine!

The room goes silent for a brief moment before they move on to battling it out over the leather spinning stool.

Oooh! It’s so soft and smooth. It’s like hugging the inside of a cow!

(As a vegetarian, this thought is especially unpleasing to me.)

They direct their attention to whatever Nintendo DS game they’d brought along for the ride.

This level sucks! Freaking Mario! You suck so bad!

The door to the room opens, and my older child redirects his attention.

He accusingly points at the doctor and indignantly exclaims:

We’ve been waiting forever for you! What took so long?!?

Don’t talk to the doctor like that! I’ll slap you!

Here, I’ll take care of that.

And he slaps himself.

Can we go to 7-11 and get Slurpees after this?

I don’t think so. Stupidity equals no Slurpees. 

I’m gonna stick a cactus in your eye!

If your murder me, you’ll go to jail!

I’m gonna throw you off a three-story building! No, off a ten-story building! No, off the Empire State Building!  

(Note: this is not at all what I envision when I encourage them to aim high.)

Keep that up and you’re going to be on America’s Most Wanted.

What’s America’s Most Wanted?

At this point, the doctor good-naturedly interjects:

You don’t want to be on wanted posters in post offices all over the country, do you?

Ooh, yeah! I want to be on America’s Most Wanted!

Can you hurry up and give him his shots now?

I’ll throw you out the window!

No, you won’t.

Last time you had to get shots, you screamed like a girl!

Why you gotta be so rude?

Augh! Don’t you dare! Don’t you do it!

Hold still or they’re gonna send a football player in to tackle you for your shot!

Wanna go? Come on. I’ll take you down!

The doctor’s gonna whack you with his reflex hammer if you don’t knock it off.

Oh, yeah?

Hey, good job! You did it! 

And just like that, it was all over.

Can we go out to dinner?

Ha! Like I’m going to take anyone anywhere after that mayhem.

But at least we made it out of there without any of us ending up on America’s Most Wanted.

~Happy Saturday, friends! Have a fantastic weekend!~

Why settle for brawling at home when you can share the joy by brawling in public?

Why settle for brawling at home when you can share the joy by brawling in public?

Bigly Bestest Halloween

@thebiglybestestdoggie: First Halloween with these crazy people. Made me this weird cape thing. Um, thanks? Yeah, pretty sure I’m being punished for something…

~Happy Halloween! Thanks for joining Jett (a.k.a. The Bigly Bestest Doggie) in the debut of our brand new weekly Tuesday Tails ‘n’ Tweets series as he struggles to make sense of this crazy, quirky world, and the even quirkier and crazier people who surround him…~

The Air up There

Fun fact:

The average couple in Delaware fights 24 times more frequently in a single month than the average UFC fighter battles it out in an entire year.

A whopping 73 times per month, to be exact.

Um, what?!?

How are there even enough hours in the day for that?

Do people have to schedule their brawls on the calendar?

Set daily fight reminders on their phones?

Dedicate extra time during the workday to hostile quarreling by text?

And what’s all the arguing even about in the first place?

Team Yankees or Team Red Sox?

Potato or potahto?

Blue-green or green-blue?

Seriously, what the hell?

Do people keep an ongoing list of possible topics to argue about?

I’m all for making to-do lists, but not of this particular variety.

Have these people not heard of choosing their battles?

Or do they all thrive on the thrill of perpetually high blood pressure?

Did they all marry complete assholes?

Or their polar opposites, at the very least?

Or possibly something from a different species altogether?

Like a boxing kangaroo?

I don’t know whether to congratulate the people of Delaware for setting such a high precedent or recommend that they all seek psychiatric help.

ASAP.

Because this can’t possibly be good for their health.

Where did they find these people to survey, anyway?

The county jail?

Preferably people who are guaranteed to be featured on upcoming episodes of Cops?

I’m personally a fan of peace, so this is all well beyond my level of comprehension.

73 arguments.

In one month.

With the same person.

This number doesn’t even factor in all the other human beings they’re all forced to interact with in the course of a day.

Does anyone in Delaware have inner peace?

Because I’m getting ulcers just thinking about it.

The national average for arguments between couples is only 19 times a month.

Still a fairly hefty number.

But it pales greatly in comparison to good ol’ Delaware.

What the hell is in the air in Delaware?

The EPA must really be letting things slide there.

Why is there no travel ban in place for Delaware?

Bickering, brawling, squabbling…

I’m starting to wonder if it has anything to do with the close proximity to Washington, D.C.?

Maybe these are all attorneys who are paid to argue for a living?

And then they leave work and continue to argue with their spouses/significant others?

Delaware.

The very first state.

The Diamond State.

The Greeks believed diamonds were tears of the gods.

Kinda makes sense.

I’m sure there are plenty of tears being shed with all this mayhem.

Nowadays, diamonds are viewed as a symbol of love.

And I’m sure there’s plenty of love in Delaware.

Or not.

Alaska, on the other hand, sets the standard with the least amount of arguing.

A relatively miniscule nine arguments per month.

It’s probably far too cold there for anyone to even bother getting out of bed in the first place.

Hey, wait a second!

Maybe that’s the solution to all of life’s problems…

~It’s time to mix things up a bit! Starting next week, Comically Quirky will be adding an exciting new mini-feature! Back by popular demand, Jett the Dog (a.k.a. @thebiglybestestdoggie) will star in Tuesday Tails ‘n’ Tweets, as he shares more hilariously quirky random thoughts about the challenges of…well…being a dog. So stay tuned, and have a great weekend!~

There's something in the air in Delaware, and it ain't good...

There’s something in the air in Delaware, and it ain’t good…

Very, Very Unfairy

So I ate that bag of bread.

And half a bag of treats, too.

But I was left by myself for days!

Days!!!

What?

It was only 10 minutes?

Seriously?

Huh.

Well, it felt like days.

What do you mean I’m not getting anything else for dinner now?

Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, many people say.

But is it okay to poop on it instead?

Just asking.

You know, for a friend.

No other dog in the history of the world has ever been treated so very, very unfairly.

Believe me.

Even my enemies agree.

And I have many, many of those.

Trust me.

Especially after I’ve sniffed their poop and tried to eat their food.

But I’m telling you, I think these owners of mine have problems.

What am I going to do about it?

Oh, you’ll see. 

Yeah.

You’ll find out soon enough.

Luckily for you, I don’t speak my thoughts.

Unluckily for you, there’s Twitter.

@thebiglybestestdoggie: Treated very unfairly by low energy humans again. Sad!

Ha!

That’ll show them.

Ooooh, a ball!

Look at that bright, shiny ball!

What was I saying?

Oh, yeah.

@thebiglybestestdoggie: You’re fired! Overrated humans! You’re all very bad hombres!

Oh, except I do need someone to feed me dinner.

Pretty please?

Oh, come on.

Don’t make me beg.

I’m sorry.

Okay?

@thebiglybestestdoggie: I’m the most tremendously people loving dog you’ll ever meet! I love people! All of them! Believe me!

I’m just a doggie horribly, horribly wronged.

Nobody knew it would be so hard!

To have self-control 24/7!

And to run this dump!

Nobody!

Who would’ve guessed?

Hashtag unfair!

So what are you gonna do?

Build a cage?

Create a ban to keep me out of the kitchen?

Find some other way to make your household “great” again?

What about those other monsters running around the house like savages? 

Huh?

Will you threaten to cage them, too?

What’s the word for those things again?

Oh, right.

Kids.

Ooh!

Look at that beautiful treat!

It’s the most beautiful treat ever!

And I’m gonna shove it down my gluttonous throat!

@thebiglybestestdoggie: A+ for going in and taking what I want better than anyone in the history of the world!

What can I say?

I’m a real go-getter.

You know, a lot of people are saying I should also be able to crotch-sniff anyone I damn well please.

Even Rocket Man.

What’s that?

You think I’m being overly dramatic?

Listen, you son of a female dog!

(Oh wait, I think I just described myself.)

I challenge you to a duel!

On second thought, my paws are probably too small.

IQ test, anyone?

Yeah, how about that?

Moron!

I know words!

I know lots of words!

I know yuuuge ones!

Like sit and stay

But not no.

Definitely not no. 

Roll over?

What am I, some kind of animal?

Losers!

I’m tired of being treated so unfairly!

And so I’ll respond the only way I know how.

With fire and fury!

Ha ha ha!

Just kidding!

I’m a sweet, loving doggie!

But I think those mushrooms I just ate in the backyard might’ve been hallucinogenic.

I love you!

Now give me a hug!

Aww!

You’re the best!

@thebiglybestestdoggie: Woof, woof, woof. Doggie out!

~Happy Saturday, friends! Furry friends sure do make life more entertaining, don’t they? Have a fun-filled, happy weekend!~

Yes, I did help myself to a loaf of bread and a bunch of treats. But I'm really a good dog. I swear!

Yes, I did help myself to a loaf of bread and a bunch of treats. But I’m really a good dog. I swear!

Sticks, Stones, and Broken Bones

Oh, the things you can fix!

The things you can glue!

It’s totally true!

Oh, the things you can do!

Does it feel broken?

Are any crucial parts missing?

Any strange things jutting out at nauseating angles?

Well, fear not.

Doctor apprehension is completely normal.

But before you start dialing for an ambulance, ask yourself a few more questions:

Is it bleeding profusely?

Can it be glued back together?

Sewn up or stapled shut?

Do you think you might be able to walk it off ?

Sleep it off?

If the answer to any of these questions is yes or maybe…

Why not just stay home and take care of it yourself?

Think about it.

Going to the doctor can be costly.

Not to mention nerve-wracking.

But the good news is, there are many ways to fix whatever ails you…

Right from the comfort of your own home!

Or wherever the heck you happen to be when misfortune strikes.

But before you make your final decision, ask yourself this…

Do you really need that particular body part?

(Hey, it’s a valid question. We tend to treat things like tonsils and wisdom teeth as unnecessary space fillers.)

With just a few household staples, YOU can be your own DIY healthcare provider!

Did your kid shove a grape Jolly Rancher up his nose again?

Why not try to dislodge it with the industrial strength shop vac that’s collecting dust in the garage?

Got a cracked rib?

Got tape?  

There ya go.

Problem solved.

Raging bout of food poisoning?

Charcoal capsules can be highly effective…

But cramming the long handle of a telescopic duster down your throat ought to do the trick in bringing the offending substance back up even more quickly.

All-over body aches?

Get out the frying pan. It’s time for a riveting game of Whack-an-Appendage!

Cracked a tooth? Or a head?

While the actual treatment may vary slightly, both can be remedied with a glob or two of extra strength super glue.

Some afflictions have even simpler solutions.

Suffering from high blood pressure?

Avoid kids.

Got a massive headache?

Avoid kids.

Sprained an ankle tripping over a rogue bouncy ball?

Avoid kids.

(Notice a pattern here?)

Worried about wrecking your budget with astronomical medical expenses?

A few helpful ideas:

Next time you go to the dentist, have the hygienist X-ray not only your teeth, but your entire body from head to toe, in 85 different installments.

Or save yourself the time and hassle by asking for a copy of your body X-ray scan results the next time you go through airport security.

And why bother making a trip to the eye doctor when you’re already paying for a mandatory vision test at the Motor Vehicle Department?

There’s also no need for a chiropractor if you’re experiencing back pain when you’ve got a rough child who can helpfully assist you in rearranging your bones, free of charge.

And if you think you might require the services of a skilled psychologist, guess again.

Just grab the nearest notebook and indulge in the cathartic action of jotting down your deepest thoughts and emotions.

Or better yet, park yourself in front of the bathroom mirror and revel in the fun of holding up both sides of a sure to be fascinating conversation.

It’s all psychological anyway, right?

Mind over matter.

So if you’ve just smacked your head into a brick wall after tripping over the dog or knocked yourself senseless by falling down the stairs while attempting to balance a laundry basket with a toothbrush dangling out of your mouth, today just might be your lucky day!

Or not…

Unfortunately, not everything has a simple DIY remedy. 

And so for everything else, there’s alcohol.

A good shot of whiskey or vodka ought to do the trick.

So long, strains, sprains, and spewing bloody wounds!

Everything’s gonna be alright…

~Happy Saturday, my friends! Have a fabulous weekend, and remember, super glue is your new best friend!~

It may have roots in Greek Mythology, but the caduceus looks like a deadly contraption. Come on, a stick with a pair of intertwined snakes precariously draped around it as medical insignia? Totally not comforting.

It may have roots in Greek Mythology, but the caduceus looks like a deadly contraption. Come on, a stick with a pair of intertwined snakes precariously draped around it as medical insignia? Totally not comforting.

Snips, Snails, and Puppy Dog Tails

He eats his veggies without a word of complaint.

He’s got a surprisingly great sense of humor, too.

And he actually seems to care about my feelings…

Instead of blatantly bulldozing over them like some people I know.

(Cough, cough, cough)

But he enjoys a good treat as much as my other two.

And I know for a fact all three of them will gleefully eat off the floor whenever the opportunity presents itself.

But that’s animals for you.

And kids, too.

The numerous parallels of kids and dogs are hard to deny.

As are the pros and cons of each, respectively.

In an already male-dominated household, adding a male dog to the mix naturally made the most sense.

Sure, the dog eagerly goes around sniffing crotches and behinds.

But otherwise, he’s got fairly impeccable manners.

In fact, I’m realizing that this new dog of ours is quite possibly the best behaved one in the house.

It’s true.

I mean, aside from yesterday’s Hot Dog Incident.

Did you know if you turn your back on a package of hot dogs while preparing dinner, the dog is gonna move in quickly and claim it for his own?

Yeah, well.

Live and learn, right?

But it isn’t really so different.

Kids and dogs both have a tendency to cram questionable objects in their mouths.

The kids would eat pennies when they were babies…

This dog eats chunks of his Nerf frisbee.

But he gives me hugs, any time, any place, without fear of embarrassment.

He’s loyal and unconditionally loving.

Let’s take a look at some of the virtues and vices of kids and man’s best friend, shall we?

Pro of dog:

Very few wants and needs.

Con of kids:

Need lots. Want everything.

Con of both:

Demand loads of attention.

Pro of dog:

Doesn’t talk, and more importantly, doesn’t back-talk.

Con of kids:

Argue and back-talk incessantly.

Pro of dog:

Eats the same thing day in and day out without complaint.

Con of kids:

Complain if you have the nerve to feed them the same thing twice in one week. (Unless it’s pizza or mac and cheese.)

Pro of kids:

Food seldom goes to waste. (Because they already ate everything. In the entire house. In one sitting.)

Con of dog:

Eats tennis balls. And his frisbee. And our dinner.

Con of dog:

Eats flies right out of the air whenever he’s outside.

Pro of kids:

Well… I’ve never noticed my kids doing any such thing…

Pro of dog:

Doesn’t demand newest iPhone.

Con of kids:

Demand newest iPhone and Beats headphones and newest laptop.

Con of dog:

May not demand these gadgets, but might chew up yours, though.

Con of kids:

Addicted to all things electronic.

Con of dog:

He’s addicted, and I mean addicted to Chuck It balls. (They must be laced with crack.)

Con of dog:

If dad is choking, it must be a good time to lick him in the face until he chokes harder.

Con of kids:

If dad is choking, get agitated by the rude distraction and crank up the volume on the tv.

Pro of dog:

Wakes up refreshed and excited for a new day.

Con of kids:

Wake up like sleep-deprived, starving zombies.

Pro of dog:

Enjoys the feeling of being clean.

Con of kids:

Shower? Again? Why?!?

Con of kids:

Laughed at me when I almost fell out of my chair.

Con of dog:

Laughed at me when I almost fell out of my chair.

(Hmmmm…)

Pro of kids:

Eventually learn to use toilet.  Don’t have to use diapers or a pooper scoop for life.

Con of dog:

Will poop and pee, any time, any place, forever.

Con of kids:

They’ll fart nonstop and bodily functions become the dominate mealtime conversational topic.

Pro of dog:

Doesn’t require shoes or clothing.

Con of kids:

Not only is it considered unacceptable to show up to school naked, it’s also not cool to show up in outgrown clothes that are soooo three months ago.

Pro of dog:

Loves being active. Always wants to go for walks and play.

Con of kids:

Go outside? To do what? Is the house on fire?!?

Pro of dog:

Gives hugs and kisses without expecting anything but love in return.

Con of kids:

If they’re being unusually affectionate, watch your back. And your wallet.

Pro of kids:

If you’re lucky, they’ll help take care of you when you are old and decrepit.

Con of dog:

If you die and nobody else is around, he might consider eating you.

Wow.

Aside from that last argument, it almost seems like it’s completely one-sided.

That it should be no contest.

That unconditional love = pets.

And unconditional needs = kids.

But that’s hardly the case at all.

They’re both rewarding and heartwarming, in their different ways.

Sure, a dog won’t laugh if you leave the house with your shirt on backwards or your pants inside out.

But kids?

Oh, they’ll laugh, alright.

They’ll laugh about it now, and they’ll laugh about it every day for the next six months…

Until you do something even more foolish to take their minds off of your previous transgression.

And then you can all laugh about it together.

~Happy Saturday, everyone! Hope you all get to spend an enjoyable weekend with your kids, dogs, cats, pet snakes, or whatever brings you joy and happiness!~

As long as I don't tear this new toy to shreds in the next few seconds, I just might become the new favorite child! 

As long as I don’t tear this new toy to shreds in the next few seconds, I just might become the new favorite child!

Stupendously Speedy Stipends

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

Ha!

Like I had much choice in that matter.

I mean, short of bolting off on an attempted high-speed chase.

Which surely would’ve been quickly thwarted by the abundance of farm machinery and construction vehicles that typically dominate the roads out here.

Apparently, going to Walmart wasn’t punishment enough for one day.

I got carded for purchasing canned air as I was checking out.

Little did I know I’d be whipping out my driver’s license again 10 minutes later.

I guess I should’ve stayed home.

Who needs toilet paper and laundry detergent, anyway?

“Do you know why I pulled you over today?”

“Oh my God! Is there somebody under my car?”

Okay, no.

I did not actually say that.

I merely shook my head no in reply.

I don’t drive on the sidewalks.

I don’t plow over pedestrians.

I keep my vehicle out of cow pastures.

I’m fairly cautious, I’d say.

Minutes from home, I’d been driving up and over a teeth-jarring railroad track when I noticed telltale flashing lights in my rearview mirror.

Of course, it would be an unmarked police car.

On a one-lane road.

With no shoulder.

And no place to turn for at least half a mile.

Nothing but a long stretch of nothingness.

What was I supposed to do?

Pull off the road, into a field of hay barrels?

Preferably one full of disgruntled Longhorns?

So I crept along with those obnoxious lights flashing behind me until I pulled up to an industrial park.

Right between the shift from a 30 mph zone to a 45 mph zone, the officer’s trusty radar gun had clocked me at 43 mph.

In the 30 mph zone.

Coming down a steep hill, it’s easy to quickly gain speed if you’re not paying  attention.

He asked for my license, but didn’t bother with proof of insurance or registration.

Must’ve had sufficient time to run my plates as he was coasting along behind me, waiting to see if I’d eventually pull over.

I’m sure the motorcycle endorsement on my driver’s license didn’t earn me any brownie points, either.

Sergeant Scowly Dude didn’t look like a guy who believed in giving people the benefit of the doubt and sending them off with a warning.

I’d never, ever gotten a speeding ticket in my life.

Twelve years ago, I had been pulled over at 4:30 in the morning on the way to my final shift of work before maternity leave by an officer who had been pacing me.

At 39 weeks into pregnancy with my younger son, I nearly knocked myself out by hitting my head on the visor when asked for my license, registration, and insurance.

The officer looked on in a mix of sympathy and pity while toy airplanes and diapers flew out of my glove box as I attempted to dig out the requested paperwork.

In all fairness, I hadn’t slept in nine months, which might have been a factor.

For the whole incident.

That kindhearted officer let me off with a warning.

But this guy?

It wasn’t looking promising.

And with a mess of frizzy hair from an unfortunate combination of high humidity and rain, my typical adorableness wasn’t likely to do the trick, either.

This would’ve been a good time to have my charming kids in the car, surely?

Or my sweet, affection dog?

I’m usually sandwiched in traffic between tractors and cement mixers.

Or the occasional runaway cattle who manages to wedge, squeeze, and squish his way through narrow wire fencing to freedom.

And so I consider myself fairly lucky on days where the opportunity allows me to go more than 15 mph behind a bulldozer.

I’ve actually been passed by a semi truck a time or two.

A semi truck, for God’s sake!

Do I sound like the maniac here?

And yet, I received a whopping $250 fine.

Yikes.

I have nothing against cops.

There are countless decent ones out there who do good deeds and give back in immeasurable ways.

At any rate, I’ve been brainstorming less traditional modes of transportation.

Ooh!

I’ve got it!

Nobody ever gets pulled over on a cow!

At least, not to my knowledge.

Unless, perhaps, by a cop on a galloping horse…

The only problem is, I don’t have a cow.

And I would hate to end up with an even heftier fine, or worse yet, behind bars, for alleged cow-snatching.

Perhaps I ought to find me a Longhorn.

Nobody in their right mind is gonna want to mess with that.

Just strap on a backpack with a skunk inside for extra good measure, and voilà!

Good to go!

As a bonus, fewer suicidal animals would have the opportunity to make me an unwitting accomplice as they attempt to nosedive/hop/slither to their death at the hands (or would it be body?) of my vehicle if I’m not actually in a vehicle.

So there is that.

But I suppose this whole situation could’ve been avoided in the first place if I’d been riding a skunk or an armadillo.

Or if I’d stayed home.

And believe me, I’d be perfectly okay with not going back to Walmart again anytime soon.

~Happy Friday, everyone! Have a great weekend, and drive safely!~

Hint: It's not actually a ticket (or two) to paradise...

Hint: It’s not actually a ticket (or two) to paradise…

A Breath of Not-So-Fresh Air

Nature freaking sucks.

Seriously.

It hates me.

And the feeling is quickly becoming mutual.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t hear.

I can’t sleep.

I can’t think.

I can’t even go outside without hacking like a geriatric geezer about to keel over on the sidewalk as a single delicate breeze threatens to collapse my lungs and suck the sole remaining ounce of life left in me.

But then, it’d probably be just as well.

After all, I doubt I’d be looking forward to going back indoors to face the equally suffocating mountain of laundry that typically awaits me.

Ah!

There’s nothing quite like a breath of killer fresh air.

Fresh air is good for you, people always say.

Ha!

Fresh air, my ass.

It’s bad for my health.

Plain and simple.

Sneeze, sniffle, honk!

Wheeze, gasp, choke!

It ain’t pretty.

Oh, what’s wrong?

Nature! That’s what’s wrong!

Sure, there are stunning mountains, oceans, and other incredible scenic wonders in this world.

But some days, those natural beauties don’t even begin to balance out whatever toxic crap permeates the air.

Speaking of nature…

The sky is the limit when it comes to the range of possible allergens just waiting to wreak havoc on the already inefficient human body.

What do flowers, cats, and dairy have in common?

They’re all plotting to kill us, that’s what!

From respiratory to food to skin, there’s a unique allergy out there for everyone.

But air?

Seriously?

Air is an essential element of life.

Yet, it’s trying relentlessly to kill me.

(Much like the water I frequently find myself nearly choking to death on whenever I attempt to have a sip.)

I haven’t been able to hear out of my left ear for days.

Then again, I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing, what with all the chaos around me.

And I’ve gone through enough tissues this week alone to take out an entire forest.

One thing’s for sure:

There’s no inner peace when one can’t inhale or exhale.

But meditation and guided imagery can be quite helpful, from what I understand.

Except for the fact that all I can envision is hopping on the first flight out of town to a remote tropical island to escape it all. 

I’ve tried everything under the sun for relief.

Lavender and peppermint oil in a diffuser.

Sudafed.

Vicks VapoRub.

But nothing has been working.

At least, not long enough to help get me through the day.

Or the night.

So I shove a pillow over my head.

Suffocation might at least grant me some much-needed rest.

Breathe in, wheeze out. 

Repeat for maximum exhaustion.

I’m beyond help.

And the stress from all those sleepless nights only exacerbates things.

Stress?

Bad for one’s health?

No way!

It’s a proven scientific fact that stress compromises the immune system by lowering immune response.

And the only solution, it seems, is to escape to a land far, far away.

To a peaceful, allergen-free life on that aforementioned deserted island.

Perhaps I ought to wear a full face mask whenever I brave the outdoors.

That ought to make a great impression with the neighbors.

Bird flu?

No, nature.

Here’s the biggest irony of it all:

I don’t litter.

I always recycle.

I’ve been known to pull recyclable objects out of the trash can, rinse them out, and place them in the recycling bin, for God’s sake.

I freaking care about the environment.

I try my damnest to do my part to save the earth.

And, in turn, the environmental does its best to kill me as a way of expressing its gratitude.

The great outdoors ain’t so great when it’s undoubtedly trying to do me in.

But, as the saying goes, no good deed goes unpunished.

So maybe the next time a passenger attempts to toss trash out my car window, I might conveniently pretend not to notice, instead of threatening to stop the car and dump the offending litterbug off on the side of a busy highway.

Take that, nature!

Oh, who am I kidding?

I can’t help myself.

I’ll continue to try to save this freaking planet, even as it continues to try to choke the life out of me.

Sniff, cough, wheeze!

~Happy Friday friends! Hope you have a wonderful, allergy-free weekend!~

Po somehow manages to enjoy a moment of inner peace in nature. Unlike me. There's no peace for me among the pollen.

Po somehow manages to enjoy a moment of inner peace in nature. Unlike me. There’s no peace for me among the pollen.