Archive for February, 2014

Stick It To The Man

Posted: February 21, 2014 in Fun, Health, Jokes, Life, Society
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Just a few funny things to say when quitting a vile job.

1. I got a great, less stressful job that involves much less shit – sewage worker.

2. My new boss is so much nicer than you. Satan.

3. Don’t worry. I’m sure you can find my replacement at the morgue.

4. I’m quitting my job and taking yours. I found the Cayman island bank account and the corpse in your closet. Enjoy prison!

5. I won the lottery, slept with your wife, mother and father! How you like them apples?

6. Here’s the monkey to replace me. He flings feces everywhere but I’m sure you can train him to do my job.

7. Cough, cough. I’m going on permanent disability. I got the bubonic plague and leprosy. Cough.

8. Got a great new job! I own this company and you’re fired!

9.  Got a new job with the IRS. You’re being audited for the past 20 years. I told you to save your receipts.

10. I’ll be making hardly anything as an intern, which is more money than I got here. By the way, all three of your wives know about each other.

 

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The Funny End

Posted: February 18, 2014 in America, Fun, Jokes, Life, Love, sex, Society
Tags: , , ,

Just a few things to say when you want to break up. Your ex might even giggle.

1. You want to break up with me because I can’t swim? Yes, that and you have green skin and live with an army of flying monkeys!

2. I have to go! You actually like John Boehner!

3. It can’t possibly work. You hate Downton Abbey.

4. Engagement is off! I refuse to wear a camouflage gown!

5. Your little Twilight games are making me anemic and I’m scared of oral sex now.

6. Three reasons why I have to go: you were sober, it was a Shetland pony and my family saw it on YouTube.

7. The toilet paper roll goes over, not under! And you slept with my best friend.

8. Whatever you said in confession made the father give up the priesthood!

9.  Because your bachelor party started at The Bellagio and ended in a Turkish prison.

10. Why? You’re a Starbucks barista with a Harvard law degree and you’re 40!  Good enough for ya?

Me, my sister Carmen and my brother Esteban.

Me, my sister Carmen and my brother Esteban.

YoungMe TeenMoni

I was looking for old pictures of myself to remind myself of what a good actress I was. Happiness doesn’t always look like happiness.

In the first picture, I’m with my siblings. I’m the one in the blue dress. I was happy because it was Easter and I was hunting for eggs in the park. I was also burning up in the California sun. My mother was big on making me wear stockings.

The second picture is marred. So was the girl. I was 12 or 13 years old and my breasts were coming in. My mother’s boyfriend noticed. I made a cute looking victim.

In the last picture, I was 18 years old, manic and tormented. This was a good day because I was on the upswing. This picture shows a lovely, happy and coquettish girl, not a suicidal one.

I like these pictures because they lie with absolute perfection. The second picture drops a hint. It is again marred externally and internally. It’s the beginning of a dying me.

I’m not dying anymore. The past doesn’t hurt me like it use to. I just find it amazing how well I could hide it when a camera was looking.

Always smile for the camera! That’s the message I got. When you look back on your life in these pictures, you want to be happy. I’m not sure if prefer an honest image or a pretty one.

I can’t recall Phillip Seymour Hoffman ever giving a less than awesome performance. In every movie I ever saw him in, he stood out in an existential way. At least for me he did.

Sadly, there’s a price for that kind of talent. Why is it that the truly great artists in acting, music, literary etc. must suffer mental demons to take us to a deeply moving realm?

Artists are artists because they’re happy to take the observer into an alternated reality. They do or behave in ways the rest of us haven’t the courage for. The bolder the better. Civilized society dreams of reckless abandon. Artist live in it.

It’s almost impossible to be happily neutral and gifted at the same time. Seeking help and getting better can actually kill your creative edge. And then what happens to your career?

Shaving your head. Stripping in public. Stealing when you’re a millionaire. Drug and alcohol abuse. Rehab. Getting some rest. Suicide. We see it all the time. Why not just call it what it is? Self-medicating because prescribed meds dull the talent.

When I first started my bipolar cocktail, I hated the way it made me feel. I felt like a prisoner in my own body. I was off, really off. My first instinct was to go off my meds. But I didn’t. I just slept until the ‘prison’ went away. Most artists (in whatever media) don’t have that option readily available to them.

I’m not saying every great artist is or was mentally ill, but the ones that started that way have a huge burden on them. The mentally ill have distorted views of the world. This can be a very creative angle or tool. Try building a house without a hammer. It’s the same thing.