Pity Party Friday

Today I'm all like wah-wah-wah.

This whole week has been one greasy, unbroken string of wanting things I can't have, missing people who aren't around, and wondering who the hell has been drinking all my vodka. Goddamn gremlins.

Also, Vodka Gremlins = great band name, but whatever.

And failure. Can't forget the filthy spectre of failure. Because all the best pity parties are thrown at the Failure Lounge.

This is actually the Success Lounge. Depressing, isn't it?

So my message for today is: Don't read my blog. Go read The Bloggess, which I can't stand because it's so goddamn good. This week Jenny Lawson put her beloved cat Posey to sleep and celebrated her wedding anniversary with a live sloth and a wallaby. And then she wrote hilarious and touching and entertaining and wonderful posts about both events. And the hilarious parts were hilarious, and the touching parts were touching. You wouldn't think that would be so hard to do, but it is.

Harder than this, even.
And this is almost fucking impossible.

So where was I? Oh yes...wah-wah-wah.

It's just one of those I-can't-do-anything-because-I'm-a-big-loser-and-nobody-loves-me days. Weeks. It will pass. But until it does, I'll be in the lounge, listening to a bad Liberace impersonator and eating stale peanuts with the gremlins.

Go read The Bloggess. Or anything else, really. If you follow me on Facebook, I'll let you know when I'm over myself. I'll write something hysterically funny and perceptive about Coconut M&Ms or freedom of speech or something. Keep your expectations low, and you'll be fine.

That's what I'll be doing.

And watching this video of a techno-dancing dog.




OK, that's a little better.