When the world’s got you down, sex is nothing more than a high score in wwf, and your bed broke because you’re so fat now, it’s time for some fine cinema.

When the world’s got you down, sex is nothing more than a high score in wwf, and your bed broke because you’re so fat now, it’s time for some fine cinema.

Don’t worry everyone! I am going to fix racism and the authoritarian takeover of our country with my balcony sign:

After listening to the deranged and dangerous “speech” today from our deranged and dangerous “president”, I made my sign out of paper bags.
Everything will be okay now, right? I fixed it?
It really took me getting stoned after all these years to realize that one throwaway comment from my mother when I was a teenager set me up for the rest of my life?
I suppose therapy could get me to why her answer was so important to me, why it was able to have such an impact.
But listen we aren’t here for that. Because whatever led to the question, what remains is that I have spent my entire adult life chasing a better answer.
As you may remember, I asked her one summer afternoon, “mom am I pretty?” I was 16 I think. And her answer was honest and true. “well I wouldn’t say pretty. You’re more cute than anything else.”
Oof.
Everything I do has been about proving her wrong. Or right. Trying to find someone or something to tell me that is ridiculous of course you’re pretty Christa. Or obsess over the ones that confirm its truth. But maybe most of all trying to convince myself. cute is good enough? Looks don’t matter? I am pretty AND they like me they really really like me.
Ooh! I finally found it. My favorite passage from Money (Martin Amis). It feels appropriate for me tonight and also for the country right now.
“After all we are only human beings down here and we could do with a lot more praise and comfort than we actually get. Earthling reassurance — it’s in permanently short supply, don’t you think? Be honest, brother. Lady, now tell the truth. When was the last time a fellow-Earther let you rest your head on their heart, caressed your cheek, and said things designed to make you feel deeply okay? It doesn’t happen often enough, does it. We’d all like it to happen a lot more often than it does. Can’t we do a deal? Oh boy (I bet you’re thinking), that head-on-heart stuff, whew, could I use a little of that.”
This is wicked rude WWF:
