Photoshop Sock Hop: Merit Badge #1
When it comes it social weirdnesses, I've got a boatload. Maybe even an aircraft carrier-full. For me, just remembering to make eye contact takes a level of mental exertion comparable to what George Sanders had to use in "Village of the Damned" to prevent all of those creepy uber-Aryan children from reading his mind. The fact that I married a similarly introverted person doesn't help matters. If there is a Judeo-Christian afterlife, and Sam and I make the cut, I like to imagine us sitting on the cloud in the corner, making fun of all of the other celestial being ("Dude, St. Erasmus's halo totally looks like a frisbee." "Ha! You hungry? Wanna go grab some manna?").
My life has been a more-or-less nonstop series of misinterpreted comments, social gaffes (like piping up, "Hey, Yitzhak Rabin finally died!" in an attempt to butter up my ultra-Orthodox history teacher, completely forgetting that the Middle Eastern leader she'd been railing against all year was actually YASSER ARAFAT) and being totally unaware of when certain subjects need to be dropped like a red-hot Russet.
This is all by way of saying: if everyone has agreed to never again mention the whole Great Blog Dust-Up of '06 because it's SO hurtful and stupid and last week and hey, the Vice President SHOT SOMEONE? Have we considered sending him to Iraq?... forgive me (or pity my Social Awkwardness Disorder-having ass... either works).
In honor of of the inimitable Julie's response to this whole sordid affair, I give you: The G.B.D-U. '06 Merit Badge.
Special prizes (NON-tangible ones, you materialistic bastards... probably a personalized haiku, ala "Type on, blogging mom! / Diapers and introspection / Gladden heart and screen") for anyone who sends a picture of themselves wearing or otherwise employing said badge (I fully anticipate mine being eaten by J.Q., who has recently consumed the perimeter of a Chili's beer coaster, the corner of my W-2 form and part of a board book [Attention, Iggy the Octopus: let this be a lesson to you that terrestrial creatures aren't as uniformly friendly and benevolent as your oceanic buddies. Also, you may wish to consider changing your name to Sid the Septopus.]).
My life has been a more-or-less nonstop series of misinterpreted comments, social gaffes (like piping up, "Hey, Yitzhak Rabin finally died!" in an attempt to butter up my ultra-Orthodox history teacher, completely forgetting that the Middle Eastern leader she'd been railing against all year was actually YASSER ARAFAT) and being totally unaware of when certain subjects need to be dropped like a red-hot Russet.
This is all by way of saying: if everyone has agreed to never again mention the whole Great Blog Dust-Up of '06 because it's SO hurtful and stupid and last week and hey, the Vice President SHOT SOMEONE? Have we considered sending him to Iraq?... forgive me (or pity my Social Awkwardness Disorder-having ass... either works).
In honor of of the inimitable Julie's response to this whole sordid affair, I give you: The G.B.D-U. '06 Merit Badge.
Special prizes (NON-tangible ones, you materialistic bastards... probably a personalized haiku, ala "Type on, blogging mom! / Diapers and introspection / Gladden heart and screen") for anyone who sends a picture of themselves wearing or otherwise employing said badge (I fully anticipate mine being eaten by J.Q., who has recently consumed the perimeter of a Chili's beer coaster, the corner of my W-2 form and part of a board book [Attention, Iggy the Octopus: let this be a lesson to you that terrestrial creatures aren't as uniformly friendly and benevolent as your oceanic buddies. Also, you may wish to consider changing your name to Sid the Septopus.]).
Labels: The Compleat Thumbscrew
posted by thumbscre.ws at
2/14/2006
6 Comments:
I don't think I can wear this badge, not because it's not totally awesome but because I have a phobia about [heinie smooching]. Will there be others? I so wanted all the girl scout badges, and to wear the vaguely fascist uniform, but my neighborhood was too noncomformist and nobody in the troop would play along. Being the only one in a uniform makes a person stick out a little too much. Kind of like wearing an orange hunting vest sets you apart from the quail ... oh, wait.
Oh, there will definitely be other badges... I've got a Photoshop template and I'm open to all suggestions. I SO wanted to be a Girl Scout, primarily to collect the cool badges (little did I know that all the "cool" girls were letting boys feel them up rather than selling Thin Mints). My mom was too busy being drive insane by three closely-spaced small children to ferry me around, bake homemade treats, sew 30 authentic tri-cornered hats for the Thanksgiving party, etc.
Furthermore, the good thing about that phobia is that it's SO insanely specific that it's probably pretty easy to avoid. Not like clowns, or mimes, or miming clowns... they're everywhere. The only way you could come into contact with your phobia accidentally is, hell, I don't know, if a nudist colony opened up right next door to a clinic for blind dwarves with TMJ problems.
Oh, I never said it was my ONLY phobia. But yes, it is pretty specific. In fact, many of my phobias are, which you're right, makes it easier. For instance: I have a phobia about speaking on the phone with someone who doesn't speak English well. This means that I NEVER ordered takeout food before meeting my husband (truly, NEVER), but most of the time it doesn't hamper me too much.
Wait, this isn't my shrink's office? So sorry.
I think that the nudist colony/dwarf comment is really funny, but I'm not positive because I can't think about it too hard.
Please don't mention clowns again. No more clowns.
I am making my "badge" into a cunning coaster. I will send you a picture, so you had better get started on my haiku.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Yitzhak Rabin finally died. That works on so many levels.
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