This is awful.
I’ve had several opportunities to just sit down and write The Next Great American Blog entry today, but I just can’t get anything out!
I’ve started over several times. It’s gotten to the point where I’ve gone back to my old blog (yes, the MySpace blog that was my sounding board until I discovered I could PAY MONEY to blog– because I’m lame) and I’ve gone back to read old entries and poems and whine like a little bitch because, Boohoo! Why can’t I sound like I used to sound?
Which, if you think about it, is totally lame: I’m like a fan of myself.
I guess the only lamer thing than that would be if I were NOT a fan of myself.
As I was just changing a diaper, I remembered something: the other day as Monsieur Meow announced that he was going to change a particularly nasty, poo-laden diapie, I chortled happily back, “OOOOOOOO! WAIT FOR ME, COZ I WANNA SEEEEEEEE!”
Rev. Mom –in town to witness just such a scene– laughed and said something to the effect of, “I bet that a year ago you would have NEVER thought you’d ever be caught dead saying something like that.”
The Monsieur — a big un-fan of Céline Dion– pointed out that she loved her kid’s poops.
And, truly, who doesn’t love poop? Poop is beautiful. And it was one of those moments where “It’s Apparent You’re a Parent”!
Which brings me to possibly the lamest thing known to man: The Family Circus (TFC from now on).
With all due respect to Bil Keane –though after producing such cheesy, putrid product so consistently for so many years he deserves less respect and more funding for some sort of fermentables factory– his comic strip sucks. IT SUCKS, BIG TIME!!
I remember spewing my regular vitriol about just how much TFCs sucks a while back, and how it NEVER is funny and how I actively seek it in the newspaper just to get angry because IT IS NEVER FUNNY and someone gave me a grandmotherly look and said,
“Just wait until you have kids!”
And then she laughed in a grandmotherly way. And I cut back in my angry vitriol; even though I worked with kids, none of whom ever said such moronic things or came up with such dim-witted associations.
And then I had a kid. And TFC is STILL NOT FUNNY; so now I’m back to lambaste it with a vengeance, because it always has a prime spot which sometimes edges out more worthy cartoons such as “Non Sequitur” (this happened in Hawaii) and because despite the lack of humor, it’s still going strong some forty years.
And seriously, forty years of bad cartoons is not cool. It is lame.
I will say this, though: One of the few sort-of clever things that have ever happened in that wretched little panel is called, “It’s Apparent You’re A Parent.”
Only that I could bet money that TFC never described poop consistency, texture, and dubious contents such as pieces of creamy Lancôme stationaried card stock imbedded therein in extensive detail EVER.