Cussing in Curry


The dryer whines, making a noise like a two year old trying to run away from the potty…chased by the boogie man. I’ve had days like this, but will someone please write me an excuse note for my forgetfulness…walking back from the laundry room, dazed from a lack of sleep, awash in lists and sublists, you’d think I was the CEO for Whirlpool. The new year has come in the door, stomping on the floor, dirtying the rug with refuse…I think I need another start,

It is no fun when both my working days and leisure times bring me the kind of excitement one expects at WalMart, commercial purveyor of all things banal and ubiquitous. Already ten days through the year, yet I can’t name a single high point- all the days seem like generic brands. No shamwows, no Pet Meds commerical cuties, just plain labelled days. Mamma said life was all about my attitude, but seriously, when the most exciting moment in the day is eating Rainforest Granola, I believe we have a problem…I’m feeling a little like Deep Space 9- isolated by my lists, sublists, and lesson plans from Purgatory…

Finding a date here is also a problem. I’m no Casanova, but I’m not a cassava either; I have a creative brain and serious experience- and knowledge and wisdom is sexy. You can’t get that from Viagra. And you certainly can’t find it in your standard WalMart…

…kind of like ethnic food. Try to find a Korma Chicken in the frozen food aisle- in most places, the most ethnic item in the Walmart freezer section is a sealed package that looks like it contains Joe Biden’s bald head. And some people might actually believe that conspiracy theory…but let’s don’t go there. It’s as bad as watching a three day Alex Jones Tribute to Piers Morgan or “Great Romance Tips from Tickle, The Moonshiner,” stuck inside the house during a never-ending blizzard. You could die of boredom…or a deranged mind.

Which is why I am careful looking for the future love of my life. I have noticed that certain divorced individuals have spent most of their lives unaware of the real world outside their communities. This is evident when people ask me if I still speak French, or if I like wearing my Chinese hat (see profile picture). Still more obvious revelations come from particular  females if they ask me if I “speak Curry” or not…especially since I have obviously removed my forehead dot. Such drivel deserves a nationally-recognized award for Social Ineptitude or at least Most Creative Insult. I must admit that I have considered speaking Curry just to satisfy these bastions of mental acuity, but I have too many things on my list to check off, and it is already January 10th on my calendar…so, sorry, girls…

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About thelostkerryman

Thelostkerryman is an author, entrepreneur, and disciple- this side of Tir Na N'Og- living in the forests of a consistently confused country. Here in this hill country, hurling doesn't usually involve a hurley, store-made soda bread resembles an inedible Irish megalith, and Kerrygold is only found hidden like a luck penny in the belly of Kroger. This blog is an account of his adventures, thoughts, eclectic -and eccentric- ramblings, random or insightful poetry, humor and non-humor, pictures (photos), video, essays, fiction, poetic fiction, nonfiction, drama, and writing he has not classified in the description above. All of my posts, thelostkerryman.wordpress.com, everydayasadisciple.wordpress.com, and mrandmrsboring.wordpress.com are copywrited according to international copywrite law.
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