Skinny Angels

Published June 12, 2012 by WELCOME TO HEIDI

I love when father’s day ads use really hot young guys as the dad to sell whatever it is we’re supposed to buy for our old dads.  I’m not sure what they want our thought process to be – buy this for your dad and you’ll get this hot dad?  Seems weird… and slightly creepy.  I don’t think the word dad should be attached to a smoking hot dude unless your dad is a smoking hot dude and in that case you are probably too young to buy him a present – or – read – or have a wallet.  Every time I think I’m in the clear for remembering some dumb holiday Hallmark invented – another dumb holiday Hallmark invented comes along.  I really can’t keep up.  I need a special calendar and a special bank account.

This is my last week at work so I’ve already begun the parade of paranoia.  I’ll be putting my house on the market by Thursday and selling all my shoes by Friday.  If I could figure out something nice to make out of dog poo I’d be a gazillionaire.  I really should have picked a more stable career like waste management.  God knows those people are consistent – every Tuesday at 6 fucking a.m. like clockwork.  Really? Is that the optimum garbage collecting time?    I’m usually just about to launch into a really good block of sleep when they arrive.  I haven’t been sleeping really well again lately.  It may have something to do with the fact that I’ll be out of work again soon or the fact that I’ve broken the cardinal rule of dieting – go to bed hungry.  I’ve been going to bed with food – lots of food.  I normally don’t keep any in the house but my friend Maureen came to visit so I got some cheese and chips and things.  That cheese and those chips and all of those things ended up next to my bed every night at two a.m.  I took down a cheese plate and an entire bag of cherries on Sunday.  Granted it’s not my normal twinkie takedown but eating late is probably the worst thing you can do when you’re trying to lose a few pounds which is something I’ll be doing until I get back to my birth weight.   I will never understand why everything that tastes good is bad for me.  I hope when you get to heaven it’s the opposite.  Maybe we don’t even eat in heaven.  Maybe that’s how angels stay so floaty and thin – they don’t need food.  I mean, have you ever seen a fat angel?  I wonder what other things from life we’ll find out have been completely unnecessary when we get to heaven.   It would be awesome to find out now that we didn’t have to be nice to everyone cause that act is wearing a little more than thin.  I would also like to know that they won’t be playing any videos of my drunk activities because I may want to start drinking again around sixty or sixty five and I’d like some clearance that anything I do won’t be played back at the Pearly Gates Check in area.

I’m still absolutely terrified of death and every time something goes great for me in life my first thought is – what if that’s all I get before they snatch me?  I think this may be a Jew gene.   The happiness equals death gene.  Sometimes I’ll be driving home from work super happy and think – focus – you don’t want to get in a deadly car accident now – not when you just wrote a really awesome joke – cause that would be a cruel joke.  With my luck some really hot guy I never knew will show up at my funeral and say – I always loved her from a distance.  Then he’ll go back to shooting his fathers day ad and I’ll cry from my cloud.

5 comments on “Skinny Angels

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