Author Archives: Mythangelo

Unlikables

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uncrustablesSo my kid made me buy him a box of Uncrustables the other day. You may not even know what the hell that is if you don’t have children (good for you), but basically they are apathy and laziness expertly combined into something that halfassedly pretends to be a PB&J sandwich. They are also round, just in case there was even the slightest chance of this manufacturing accident being confused with an actual sandwich.
I had never bought them or eaten them, because I am always within fast reach of a loaf of bread and a jar of JIF and I keep my last remaining ounces of dignity in my back pocket to help in such decisions. But the kid must have had them in school at some point and he decided to get a box of the stuff at the supermarket. 
 
Now, one of the main advantages of a PB&J sandwich (an actual PB&J sandwich, that is), aside from being delicious, is that it’s fast to prepare. You’re hungry, so you reach for the bread, get the peanut butter, jar of jelly from the fridge, and you’re eating within the minute. You can feed the whole family in one commercial break. Even Ramen, the great god of college students lacking both time and money, takes longer to prepare. Best invention in the history of civilization, as far as I’m concerned.

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Willfully Shored

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Pearl Lake Blue Water-sm

Friendzoned.

I cringe every time I see that word, because to me it is the young, unloved child of a patriarchal misogynist culture. The angry, self-pitying sobs of unwarranted entitlement. “I spent a hundred dollars on that date, but she friendzoned me.”

I can’t help but think of a man who makes his way to a remote, exotic, hidden lake in the mountains. But he goes with the sole purpose of spending the day boating and, finding that no boat is made available to him, returns home in disgust and frustration. He declares all lakes are worthless and stupid. He spends the weekend watching Netflix and ranting on Facebook.

He is shored. Friendzoned.

But he is willfully so.

What if that man were to approach the lake with the simple expectation of finding just that, a lake? A beautiful, mysterious ecosystem full of wonder and secrets and depth beyond anything he knew before? A world previously unknown to him, with new perspectives and full of life that he can explore and search and enjoy and yes, maybe he gets to go boating some time. But maybe not and that’s ok too, because there is so much more to see and know. There are feelings and knowledge and questions and experiences. And this is all new. It is a micro-universe of marvels, and he missed it because he couldn’t ride a boat and he was unwilling to see beyond that.

He is shored, but willfully so. He was not thwarted by the lack of boats but by the narrowness of his own vision.

Selfriendzoned.

The Trashed Prius

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From: Larry’s Desk – Entry 2

purgatory86-titleThere is something you need to know about the Purgatories. You don’t end up here because you stole a candy bar when you were eight, or got drunk at your sister’s wedding and pissed on the cake or consistently refused to drop money in the Salvation Army tin cans. You end up here because everyone ends up here. Everybody.

Joseph Stalin sat in Purgatory 492 for a while. Mother Theresa was lounging at Purgatory 69 until recently. That was a coincidence, by the way, not some sick joke played by the Sorting Guides. At least that’s what they claim.

Right… who are the Sorting Guides. In short, they are the ones who pick you up once you shuffle loose off the mortal coil and deliver you to one of the Purgatories. It all happens too fast for anyone of you to notice, but trust me, they’re there. And they love placing bets. More on that some other time. Continue reading →