b is for … bugs bunny

Day 16:365 Gratitude Challenge and April 2nd A to Z Challenge

42096-hi-Bugs_BunnyToday I am grateful to have had such a fine role model in my life as Bugs Bunny. Say whaaaaaat, Head Cabbage? Don’t you know that he is a cartoon character? Why, yes, I do; thank you very much for asking. For me, Bugs Bunny was and is da bomb, the king, a hero, a smart aleck carrot chewer, a legend, a role model. My role model. And he may just be yours after you finish reading this. Just remember that I called him first. Okay?

Bugs Bunny first appeared in 1940 and has been entertaining and influencing audiences ever since. My parents watched him, I watched him, my sons watched him and, if the great big Bugs Bunny guy in the sky has anything to do with it, my future grandchildren will watch him too. This is what makes Bug Bunny timeless and legendary; he reaches across generations and holds us all together in his Bugs Bunny ways. In Bugs Bunny’s 76 years, he has changed in physical appearance only and has remained true to himself, his values, and his character. How many of us can say that?

Even though he is a cartoon character, I have always admired Bugs Bunny as if he were a person. I remember as a child thinking that if only I could stand up to the bullies (assholes) in my life the way Bugs Bunny stood up to his, things would be so much better for me. Bugs never took any shit from anyone. Gun totin’ Yosemite Sam, ‘kill the Yosemite-Sam-Bugs-Bunnywabbit’ Elmer Fudd, Tasmanian Devil, Marvin the Martian, Foghorn Leghorn, Wile W. Coyote, Daffy Duck, Rocky and Mugsy and a whole bunch of other assholes, never stood a chance against the sly, charasmatic and smart rabbit. When dealing with the many assholes in his life, Bugs always tried to placate them first in an attempt to avoid any conflict. If that did not work and when he was pushed too far, Bugs Bunny always used brains, not brawn, to deal with and outsmart the asshole tormenting him. He would even turn to his audience beforehand and say, “Of course you know, this means war!”. Oh, how I loved when he said that for I knew that his deviousness was about to be unleashed on the asshole. Asshole be gone!

Another reason why I looked up to Bugs Bunny was because of his many admirable traits. He was confident, intelligent, smart alecky, quick-witted, funny, cool as a cucumber, and he was the type of bunny who everybody rooted for even though you know that he was always going to win anyway. That he was going to win regardless did not matter to me, it was how he was going to achieve his victory that did. Imagine, if you will, how a child who was expected to be seen and not heard, was painfully shy, who lived in a home consumed with dysfunction and anger and who felt powerless about her situation, took sanctuary in a cartoon character and who dreamed about an always victorious rabbit cleverly stealing her away from her surroundings, at least for an hour every Saturday anyway.

When I think back to that period in my life, though uncertain and dysfunctional as it was, I cannot help but smile when I think about how I always looked forward to Saturday morning cartoons and Bugs Bunny. Not only did he have the voice that I secretly wished I had, he could also transform himself into anything he wanted to be in order to outsmart dragan asshole. Bugs was a master of disguise. One minute he was a barber preparing to shave Elmer Fudd and the next he was a prisoner 3 1/2 splitting rocks in the prison yard. Another time he was a cowboy saddled up by the bar and the next he was a conductor conducting an opera singer at a major opera house. But my favourite of all his disguises was when he was dressed up as a girl. No one did and does drag better than Bugs Bunny. Oh how Bugs could bat those long eyelashes at any asshole he needed to distract especially poor Elmer Fudd.

All Bugs Bunny ever really wanted was to be left alone and tend his garden of carrots. He did not want to be drawn into any arguments or into any drama whatsoever. He was proficient at minding his own business and never harmed anyone directly or intentionally. While sometimes his mouth did get him into trouble, he was always able to worm his way out of it by using clever words, intelligent actions, a tube of red lipstick and a wiggle to die for. He even had his very own catchphrase, “Eh, what’s up doc?” while chomping on a perfectly formed carrot.

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So, you see, I am not so crazy after all for wanting to emulate a cartoon character who looks better in a dress than I could ever hope to. He is da bomb, the king, a hero, a smart aleck carrot chewer, a legend, a role model both then an now. Why? Because Bugs Bunny is timeless. What worked for him then still works for him now. Imagine how much better the world would be if more people were like Bugs Bunny minding their own business and being Bugs-Bunny-2content tending their own gardens in whatever form that garden took? What if we all avoided conflict until the last possible moment and then, instead of using brawn, we used our brains instead? What would that world be like?

I am going to go out on a limb and say that that world would be a much better place if we all behaved like Bugs Bunny. It’s a strange way of looking at things, I know, but step back and consider how a cross dressing resourceful and clever rabbit provided an escape every Saturday to a little girl who quite often felt alone, afraid and powerless. That little girl turned out rather well all things considered AND she went on to handle all the assholes in her life just as Bugs Bunny did. And most of the time, they never knew what hit them.

Cross dressing rabbit: 1

Assholes: 0

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a is for …. assholes

Remember how I said that my Grateful Challenge and A to Z Challenge wasn’t going to be all butterflies and rainbows and how it was going to be a twisted take on my life more than anything else? Well, fasten your seatbelts and hold on for the ride! Welcome to the first day of the A to Z Challenge. You. Were. Warned.

Day 15:365 Grateful Challenge and April 1st of the A to Z Challenge

Today I am grateful for people who are assholes or have been assholes in my life. assholes everywhereHopefully, this does not make me an asshole for saying it but it is a risk I am willing to take as long as you are willing to hear me out. People who are assholes are not nice people. They can be obnoxious, selfish, self-absorbed, mean-spirited, unkind, insulting, manipulative, heart-breaking, and belligerent. So why the heck would I be grateful that there are assholes in our world? Because people who are assholes serve a purpose, a really important purpose. Aside from the obvious of teaching us how not to behave, assholes are here to teach us important life lessons that not only make us stronger and wiser, they make us non-assholes better people.

Here are some important lessons that I have learned from assholes along the way:surrounded-by-assholes_o_398182

  • Sometimes there is absolutely nothing that you can do to change an asshole into a non-asshole. Said asshole has to want to change and must accept that he/she is indeed an asshole. Once that epiphany happens, then help can come in many ways; for example, a support group such as Assholes Anonymous could be of tremendous value. “God grant me the serenity to accept that I am an asshole…”
  • Disarm them with kindness. Many assholes want you to be as miserable as they are but whatever you do, do not stoop down to their level. Remain, calm, pleasant and most of all, happy. It really throws assholes off their game.
  • Master the fine art of ‘Irish Diplomacy’. Irish Diplomacy is the “ability to tell a man to go to hell in such a way that he looks forward to the trip”. This is my favourite of all the asshole lessons. There is such sweet satisfaction from knowing that an asshole doesn’t realize that he has been told off until much later. By then, you have gotten yourself the heck out of Dodge and no longer have to deal with him/her. Win-win.
  • Give the asshole the benefit of the doubt. It doesn’t mean that you let the asshole walk all over you; it means that you are trying to see things from his point of view. Maybe he is having a bad day. Maybe his wife left him or his dog died or his bank account is empty or maybe he is truly just an asshole. Giving the benefit of the doubt, while not excusing the behaviour, may help you understand it. You end up being the bigger person here.
  • Forgive and forget and get on with your life. If you have trouble with the forgetting part, then just forgive and remember the asshole for as long as you need to. Either way, your must get on with your life. You can’t fix her asshole-ness but you can keep yourself from becoming one.
  • Control your emotions. You may not be able to control an asshole’s emotions, but you can certainly control yours. Have some awesome visuals going on inside your head, such as banging his/her asshole-like head against a brick wall or visualize sticking pins in a voodoo doll in the asshole’s image, but never, ever let them see you react in any way. An asshole is confused by this which is generally awesome.
  • Arm yourself with an arsenal (no pun intended) of spectacular inside thoughts. This a great coping mechanism. Thoughts such as “up yours, asshole!” or “your mother wears army boots!” or “take a flying leap off a short pier!” can go a long way when dealing with an asshole. He/she may think that you are taking his/her asshole fleecing when in reality you are really giving him/her a thrashing in your mind. Be sure to have a ‘na na na boo boo’ look on your face while thinking these inside thoughts. Confuse the hell out of the asshole.
  • Stand up for yourself. If the asshole is a repeat offender, you definitely don’t have to put up with the behaviour. Remain classy while dealing with his/her asshole-ness but make sure you get your point across. When all else fails, throw a punch if you need to. Just don’t call me for bail money.

I hope this helps you deal with the asshole or assholes in your life. Better yet, I hope that you are having an asshole-free day wherever you are.

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Great asshole advice: 1

Assholes: 0

 

twitter from a twit's perspective

late to the partyHey, remember when I said that I am always late to the party? Looks like I am late again. Twice in one week. That has got to be a record for me. I feel like Charlie Sheen is sarcastically snarking ‘winning’ behind my back.

Apparently, there is this social media thing called Twitter which was founded on March 21, 2006. That puts me exactly ten years and ten days late to the Twitter party. It wasn’t that I had never heard about Twitter; it was more that I was too busy creeping and stalking my sons on Facebook to learn more about it. Since they were not on Twitter themselves, I didn’t feel the need to sign up; that is, until this past weekend.

As you know, I follow The Bloggess (www.thebloggess.com) faithfully. I have also read both of her books, Let’s Pretend this Never Happened and Furiously Happy, more like I devoured them really. The Bloggess, also known as Jenny Lawson, writes openly, honestlyThe Bloggess and humoursly about her life living with mental illness. After realizing how often people support one another in the comments section of her blog, The Bloggess put forth a brilliant idea over the weekend for her followers to link up via Twitter as an easier way for members to connect with one another. So new Twitter accounts were created (mine included), dormant ones were reactivated, and those who already had existing accounts were beyond excited at the prospect of connecting with others who were dealing with a similar lillness. And, before you could shake two tails of a taxidermied raccoon, a beautiful and supportive Bloggess tribe was born.

I had absolutely no problem setting up my Twitter account and signing on afterwards. My problem began when I went to write my first tweet and I did not know what the hell to tweet about. Other tweeters seem so proficient with their tweets; some are quite witty, others snarky and sarcastic, some are ranting and raving about politics, others are posting inspirational quotes or funny memes, while others seem to be free-thinking, spirit wielding tweeters.

they're all twitsAll I can say is that I am a Twitter genius queen twit. I think that this is what happens when you have arrived late to the party. Everyone else has had a head start; they know what they are doing and are well on their way to being half corked because they have been comfortably sitting back sipping or chugging their glass(es) of wine while writing their creative and clever 140-character tweets. I am the one who showed up late to the Twitter party AND without any booze because I didn’t have time to stop at the liquor store on the way; therefore, I have no clue about what is going on. Sigh. Always the bridesmaid. Never the bride.

Then there is also the fact that my life isn’t all that internesting to tweet about nor am I really proficient at anything in particular. I really don’t think that anyone wants to hear about how I ate my way through a bag of animal crackers over a two day period that were meant for my son’s Quirky Holiday Calendar bag and how I felt like a glutenous pig something worth tweeting.pngafterwards. There was that funny log clogging toilet incident but I had already blogged about it and something like that is hard to limit to 140 characters. On Saturday, some guy named Glen showed up at my mother-in-law’s door (she has her own apartment attached to our house) looking for me because he hadn’t realized that I had closed the store and he was wondering if I still had that dragon signet ring in stock. I mean, really, Glen?? Really? It gave me the creeps because that meant that Glen had asked around town for where I lived and some frickin genius out there gave him directions to my home. Way to ruin a Saturday, oh, member of the village people. Truth be told, I didn’t really want to tweet about Glen anyway.

All of these Twitter insecurites may account for part of the reason why I am unable to tweet anything. I have pressed the tweet button several times with every intention of tweeting something snide and sarcastic but then I just end up staring at the blank screen for what seems like an eternity. This is what I am going to call Twitter block — my inability to think of what the hell to tweet about or how the hell to proceed with tweeting. My suffering is real, people, so stop laughing. NOW. I think my Twitter block may be both incurable AND terminal so I hope that you are feeling bad about laughing at me. So There.

That said, I do find Twitter itself quite entertaining as a follower. Twitter IDs alone are fascinating specimens and are enough to make me giddy. IDs such as VengefulFaerie, LouisethePython, ShyChipmunk, ThatMacheteGirl, ExplodedSoda, DadvsNerdettes, StucktomyShoe, MiseryandMayhem, FeistyHarriet, GlitterHoarder, HalfMoonKooky, SpiceyRicey, MamaCuckoobird, SitDownPee, TeawithUnicorn, HelpfulHellion, SassyPieHole, SarcasmFairy, GomerSquirrelMD, PointlessBoob, DadandBuried, Mommy_Cusses, SarcasticMommy4, OhNoSheTwitnt and EattheButter make me want to meet these people and ask for their autographs. What is their story? Where did their ID come from? I think that they have to be creative geniuses based simply on their IDs.

Then there are the tweets themselves. They can be equally intriguing, hilarious, sarcastic, snippy and batshit crazy. Here are some of the tweets that appeared in my Twitter feed this morning:

  • This is going to be a -smack-your-mama-turn-a-cartwheel kind of day. ~@sonyagoins1
  • Have your followers retweet my followers and we’ll do lunch. ~@TheBigBatman
  • If by dependable you mean depends on my mood, then, yes, I’m dependable. ~@CarrieMayhem
  • Well a dead body isnt what I expected to see first thing this morning. ~@unconventional
  • Gonna get a Leprechaun and a Unicorn and smash them together to form a Leprechorn AND IT WILL RULE THE WORLD. ~@Midgetspar
  • When men say women who support Hillary “vote with their vaginas” it makes me want to meet these talented gals so they’ll teach me to do that. ~@OhNoSheTwitnt

GodI mean this was just this morning. While I was still trying to get the sleep out of my eyes, these people were already being creative Twitter geniuses. They must hit the floor running already tweeting on their way to the bathroom (yes, I realize that we are dealing with different time zones and some of these tweets may have been tweeted in the middle of the afternoon or early evening so please do not message me telling me how stupid I am for not realizing this. The point is that I am in awe of these twitter geniuses regardless of what time zone the tweet is tweeted in. Okay?). How is a late to the Twitter party goer supposted to compete with that? The pressure is very real, my friends, very real.

So far I seem to be really great at retweeting others’ tweets which I hope the tweeter realizes is the highest form of a compliment I can give. A like is good, but a retweet is better, way better. I have also noticed that I am a fairly good commentator as well as a terrific replier to those tweeters I think are in real need of a Twitter hug. For example, one tweeter tweeted, “I am still bowled over by all the new friends from #TheBloggessTribe. I’m fighting the urge to hide from everbody. How are you so open?” Being the type of supportive person that I am I replied, “I take my glasses off and imagine that everyone is naked”. See? You can’t get that type of support from just anywhere. You get that type of support from a genius, queen, twit like me. I bet you that I transformed her day with that brilliant piece of advice.

But that’s where it ends. How can someone as fluent in sarcasm as I am be experiencing such a problem coming up with a good tweet? Is there such a thing as twitterphobia? Is there help available for a tit twit like me? I need answers, people!!!!

I am, however, beginning to feel like one of the popular kids at school even without a clever tweet. You know the ones, they  were the ‘cool ones’, the ‘it crowd’, the ones invited to all the parties and the ones everyone wanted to be friends with. Since joining Twitter, I went from 0 followers to 204 in a matter of a few days. I was feeling mighty proud of this little accomplishment until I woke up the other morning to at tweet from some dude named Ken announcing how happy he was to have cracked the 1000 followers mark, thanks to #TheBloggessTribe. I am happy for him and all but doesn’t he realize that there’s a fine line between Twitter envy and rage when you start blowing about cracking the 1000th followers mark?indian-twitter-accounts-to-follow

At the time of this post I was at 204 followers. Help me catch up to that smug little bastard named Ken (joking, I can’t say for sure that Ken is a smug little bastard but I am willing to bet that he is just for interest’s sake. Please don’t sent me hate mail about this. I am only human.) by following me @_theheadcabbage. If you do, there will be a prize of one million dollars if you are my lucky 1000th Twitter follower. Just kidding. There is no million dollar prize but you would get to be my friend for life. And that’s just about the same thing, right? Come on, people! Help this lowly Twitter twit fulfill a bucket list dream by helping her reach 1000 followers. To infinity and beyond!

Twitter Tweeters: 1

Twitter Twit: 0

PS: If you are interested in joining The Bloggesses’special community, use #thebloggesstribe in your tweet and tweet how you would love to be a member of this the awesome tribe. Some one will respond and the rest, as they say, will be history. Or visit The Bloggess at her blog at http://thebloggess.com/2016/03/not-alone/ for more information. Trust me, you will not regret it.

 

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