In a stream...

I am not sure why I am fighting the need to “do laundry” at the moment, but sure as shootin’ I do not want to spend one moment of my time doing laundry. This abhorrence to laundering is fast being replaced by a need of clean pants. Stupid pants always uncleaning themselves. That and Little Man is running out of socks. Well, to be clear, he is running out of clean socks. The ones we keep putting him in are starting to gain sentience and smell like vinegar which makes me wonder why his is sweating out rice wine from his feet. If it is rice wine from his feet, I have no idea what the hell he keeps farting. Sweet Jesus on a cracker, the boy’s ass has been stanky for about a week now. There has been a constant stream of methane effervescing from his ass. I am sure if we had captured that methane, we could be heating our house with it. The house would be warm but quite appallingly smelly.

No one wants a warm yet smelly abode. What they want is warm and cozy, not warm and smelly. By the transitive property we can safely deduce that smelly ≠ cozy. While smelly is not an absolute opposite of cozy it definitely is not in the set of cozy descriptors even part of the time. Smelly and cozy are 2 mutually exclusive categories, and really if categories cannot be exclusive, what can? Who’s with me? Anyone?

You know what is mutually exclusive? Self-pity, that’s what. Sure everyone can have self-pity, but they can only have self pity for themselves. Have you ever seen someone have self-pity for someone else? Nope you haven’t and if you answered “yes” you are either a bald-faced liar or quite possibly a mad idiot (the worse kind of idiot) with poor personal boundaries. When someone rhetorically asked you, “What kind of idiot do you think I am?” You should respond, “A mad idiot, the worst kind.” Self-pity, now that is very exclusive and quite mutual.

The problem with self-pity is that you don’t get that warm fuzzy feeling of being better than the person you are in the process pitying. And really, what is the point of pity if you cannot feel better about someone. Seriously, the best way to feel good about yourself is to feel bad for someone doing/being/saying something you would not because you know better. There really is no better way to feel better than to sit there and think, “Man, that poor bastard. If he were only a little more like me, I would not have to pity him so.”

So when you see me with slightly dirty pantaloons and a stinky footed child, I am only doing it so you can feel better about yourself. I am self-aggrandizing that way.

To recap:
Laundry will be done tonight
The white death is upon us
Looks like it will be the path through the Mines of Moria on the way home
Stupid snow
I will most likely be heading home a bit early due to the crappy drivers
That way I can pity them and feel better about my own driving prowess
Listening to All Better Now by Earl Greyhound