The Fart Couch
Ok, silly post time...I have been writing and WRITING on the 7 pages I've printed out that are my notes on whats left of my moms journal. I've written all over it. You haven't been in on it much yet, but you will be. I have been t hinking that by the time I'm done with the book I have to save some of it, (Keep you guessing so you'll go out and get the book) I want to donate some of the proceeds to this book to charity, especially to a charity dedicated to battered women.
But...I need another break. Its exhausting dealing with it. This has taken up so much of my life lately. But its ok, I can handle this.
Soooooo....Before I slay the dragon...kill the beast, dance the hoochie cootchie...lol (Maybe even do a little FIRE dance once I'm done with this monstrocity)...maybe I'll burn a COPY of the journal;p) I'm going to make the great escape. Again:p
I think my escape has always been humor. Whether or not anyone gets it but me as I sit laughing, sometimes all alone my thoughts make me laugh so hard that I um...how can I say this delicately...have to excuse myself to go to the bathroom.:p (Grin)
I was told years ago that I could be a comedian in a free class for women I went to called "Impact" where you were helped to find what your talents were. One woman there said I could do stand up comedy. Personally,I think the pressure would be too much, Or I think I'd start giggling so hard at my own private jokes...on stage even that I might get funny looks instead.:p
Well...At least I can make fun of myself.:p
With that said, I was looking through my list of topics today and "The Fart Couch"popped out at me.
With all the serious stuff whirling around in my head this is a welcome escape. Even one as strange as this.
When my husband and I were first married we stayed in college housing. A teeny tiny furnished appartment. The kitchen was so small (How small was it? lol) that if you opened the fridge, all traffic through the kitchen stopped, sometimes even screeched to a halt. There was no way through .We used to tease each other by hiding close to the fridge and opening the fridge fast. Open the freezer door fast and you had an automatic head banger. Open the bottom and well...men beware;). It was like living in a box.
The worst thing there was the couch. It looked like it was straight out of the 60s (Or a horror movie)
It was this ugly brown color. Kinda the color of...poo.:P
The first time we sat on it it was as if the whole enviroment changed. The SMELL!
Were you born in a barn?' I said to Joe. HAHAHHAHAH!
That was the beginning of what we called "the fart couch". The smell was so bad.
I tried airing it out, washing the cushions and the covers,
Anytime ANYONE sat on the thing, its like the air quality instantly changed, and you just wanted to run for cover.
I took to sitting on the ground. ANYWHERE but on the fart couch:;p.
Salesmen? Bring them IN to sit on the fart couch...(Good way to lose frineds and NOT influence people...lol) church people...I steered them clear, had them sit at the table, anywhere but there.
One day a couple nice people from my church came in.
I wasn't thinking...
They headed straight to the couch, AND SAT DOWN.
Immediately they looked at each other. I couldn't help it, I knew what they were thinking. (SBD...Silent but deadly?;)I was stiffling giggles...but I just couldn't get myself to tell them that it wasn't anyones fault that nobody wanted to be in each others company any more. The smell was too bad.:P
I don't think I ever saw them again.
I didn't blame them.:p