Pepe Le Pew Is My Spirit Animal

As far as vacations go, this last one was full of heat, humidity, a dash of crankiness, a little drunkeness with a side of wayward walking AKA falling on my ass.  Again.

Although in saying that, I truly wasn’t drunk when I fell.  Honestly,  I wasn’t.  It probably would have been better had I been as drunk as a skunk.  (By the by, WHO THE HELL THOUGHT UP THAT PHRASE?  How can a skunk be drunk?  I swear that’s how Pepe Le Pew was created.  Some guys were sitting around trying to get a good idea for a new cartoon character and some drunk French Canadian guy was there and they all went  “HEY! WHAT KID WOULDN’T LIKE A HORNY DRUNK FRENCH SKUNK?! LET’S DO THAT!”  And THAT kids, is how all great cartoon characters are created.  The. End. )     At least I would have had a good reason for falling down in the first place instead of the usual I’m-a-klutz-and-have-a-hard-time-balancing-on-actual-feet kinda person.  Ugh.

Vacations around these parts, or SLS, the ‘Hood, ma peeps that live near me…you get the drift, as vacations go we tend to party together, so if one fam decides to vacay it’s inevitable that more will join in.  That was the case this time as well.  One made plans, then another joined in and then it was Bestie’s birthday and how could we not go for that and then another joined in…so really, it was a ‘hood gathering in a hot tropical environment.  Plus alcohol.  Of course, it’s our ‘hood we’re talking about so OF COURSE THERE’S ALCOHOL.   Oh, yeah and the kids were there too.  Hey kids!  Nothing to see here, go back to watching Pepe Le Pew…

After a lovely dinner and A LITTLE WINE, CALM DOWN we went to Bree’s abode for cake…and MAYBE a little more wine.  As we were walking out onto her expansive, yet viewless patio (unless you count the roof top of another building a view, then yes, it had a view.  The LEAST they could have done would to have thrown some nice plants out there,  maybe strung some lights…a few decorative chairs.  COME ON PEOPLE, GIVE BREE SOMETHING TO SEE!)

Anywho, unbeknownst to me the patio was two tiered.  The second level had the smallest of edges but I somehow managed to find it and my wedged sandled foot rolled over it like a car tire over a drunk skunk.  Yes, it was slow and painful.   It was like I was watching a movie in slo-mo only I was the actual person doing the falling.  Twit.   I could feel myself starting to descend, but could do nothing to stop it and hey, did I really want to?  At some point I had the presence of mind to ever-so-gently place my precious iphone on the barren side table just sitting so quaintly to my left…as I was ever-so-slowly  falling on my ass.  When I finally landed, thumping squarely on my bum, I just sat there for a second to digest what just went down.  Me.  I went down.  Bestie turned and yelled if I was hurt, her daughter were desperately trying not to laugh and I was still incredulous that I had done it once again.  I’VE FALLEN AND I CAN’T GET UP.  SHIT.

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As I stupidly sat there on the cement patio contemplating the statistics of me falling at every vacation in the history of ever,  I took in my surroundings.  And waited for the bleeding and pounding headache to start, because let’s face it, that’s usually what happens.   When none of that happened and Bestie was trying to help me up and her daughters were trying desperately to get out of my way frightened I may end up taking them down with me again, I was able to fully assess my injuries.  Or astonishing lack thereof.

I scraped my knee, my elbow and hurt my dwindling pride.  My foot seemed okay at the time and I jumped up to save what shred of dignity I had left, which wasn’t much.

I later limped to my room across the hall.  And awoke to a swollen foot, pain and the inability to walk more than a few feet without sitting down.

Excellent vacation!

It was all a little much.

A week later, my foot has almost healed completely.  The doctor said there is nothing broken, (besides my fragile ego) and I will live to fall another day.

There’s a story from my childhood that, once while we were at the cottage one summer day, I was heard outside calling “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.”  When everyone came out to investigate and see the cat I was calling, I was rushed inside and the door was soundly shut.

Apparently, I was calling a pretty little skunk over to play with me.

Wonder if any of his relatives are still staggering around looking for a drinking buddy.

Here kitty, kitty, kitty….

Pepe Le Pew

 

Thanks for Making Me A Better Smartass, Apple.

I should not be allowed to have any kind of ability to message memes or GIFs to other people on my contact list.  It can easily get out of hand and I will substitute actual words for a video clip.  It’s like Apple decided I shouldn’t speak, but allow others to do the talking for me, so they give me all of these options of random celebrities doing awesome facial expressions like rolling their eyes or sticking out their tongues or giving people the finger…you know, stuff I do all of the time, only now I can get Beyonce to do it for me!  HOW AWESOME IS THAT?!  I can be Beyonce without actually being Beyonce.

Conversation has taken a back seat to Justin Timberlake dancing or a random actor rolling their eyes or even Prince looking bored and uninterested.  If my kids ask me a question, they brace themselves waiting to see if I respond with actual words, or a short vid of Honey Boo Boo dancing like a maniac.

Apple has made it so easy for me to basically dumb down any communication to a glib video response instead of a long drawn out ‘okay’  or ‘Thanks for letting me know’ or the ever popular ‘WTF?!’ Now all I need is a search term and a little patience to scroll through all the video clips, then pick the best one and voila!  My answer to the question of ‘what’s for dinner?’  ‘Did you remember to pick up Son?’  or ‘I got an A on my paper!’ is as easy as typing ‘dinner’ and I get clips of food and people eating food and sarcastic memes about food, all at my fingertips waiting for me to push send.  The possibilities are as endless as the videos and when I run out of them, I simply type in another search term and BAM, more choices to be sarcastic without even typing a single word!  APPLE FINALLY GETS ME.

There is a downside to my laziness…the written/spoken word is diminishing before my eyes and I’m unwittingly supporting it.  I’m a major contributor to the degradation of society by allowing myself to fall victim to the temptation of random video responses!  WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?!

I know what’s wrong with me.

It’s easy.  It’s fun.  It’s engaging.  It’s smartassiness at its finest and I FUCKING LOVE IT.

I enjoy the search for the videos and the reactions I get when I send them.  I like seeing the funny face or the OMG STOP IT, from my kids or my friends who I bother at work…or in the middle of the night.  You can even do it while you’re drunk, and people will just think you’re being a smartass.  Not that I’ve ever done that, before.   I think I should actually text words a little more often.  Everyone may be expecting a video response every time they message me, so they’ll stop messaging me and then they’ll stop speaking to me.  Pretty soon, they won’t even want to text or talk or anything!  I WILL LOSE ALL COMMUNICTATION WITH MY CHILDREN AND MY FRIENDS ALL BECAUSE TAYLOR SWIFT HAS A BETTER EYE ROLL THAN ME!    SOCIETY WILL COME TO SCREECHING HALT AND CONVERSATION WILL BE OBLITERATED IN THE FAVOUR OF A BEYONCE HAIR FLIP!  EVERYBODY WILL THINK I’M A WICKED SMARTASS BECAUSE OF THE FLIPPANT VIDEOS DRIPPING WITH SARCASM AND SASSINESS!

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Now, I’m not only the worst conversationalist ever, I’m the BEST smartass ever.

Way to go Apple.  YOU JUST MADE MY LIFE.