About once a month my parents tell me I’m adopted, and was found in either a gutter, oozing egg or bowl filled with salad dressing……realising the falsities each time I yell at them for giving me hope that my “bringapetrathome andnameitmummydearest” phase wasn’t just a fleeting childhood dream.
In other news it appears my attempts at Vulcan mind melding with the single pair of panties I possess have been less successful than desired. The story behind said panties, and how they came into my possession eons ago, is far too boring I’m afraid (filled with witches, gunfights and lots of me crying into a microphone while playing internet backgammon) and so I won’t bother destroying your hopes for valid entertainment by going into it…………I shall instead cover something far more risky………or I dare I even say………nefarious…….
Go ahead and look that word up if you need to, I almost did myself but decided words are more fun when you don’t really know what they mean but think they look pretty in a sentence.
*ahem* Now as for our topic upon this entry, it is something I have dared never consider………something I fear more than cotton wool (I shit you not that I am deathly afraid of the stuff…..and t-tissues) and being forced to watch reality television COMBINED!
*crows muck about in the air to set some sort of negative vibe thing*
BUT FEAR NOT! Still strong is my desire to be mortally terrified of anything that snaps, crackles or pops on its own (which is why I take weekly visits to the supermarket to stab Rice Krispies boxes) and such my steps have been minor indeed.
For years now I had simply mastered the art of “stickingfrozencrapintheoven” and waiting until the smoke alarm went off to signal readyness (they’re really convenient like that you know) but recently…….recently I’ve taken to the unparalleled skill known only as pan frying.
Yes……I truly have reached frying age…….at last I am no slave to others in the house making my meals as unhealthy and fattening as possible……….NAY! FOR NOW I CAN POISON MYSELF LIKE A MAN! Finally I might reach the American levels of obesity I admire so!
This brings us to another odd little – mostly unrelated – (but sticking to a topic is too dreadfully dreadful) point regarding me that I’ve touched on briefly lately. My voice.
As those of you who stayed awake till the end of the last entry no doubt know, my accent is rather indefinable. The reason for this is *probably* my early acting background combined with my minor hobby of purposely warping my voice to match others while I was but a fledgling in the dung pile.
The reason isn’t important though, so really you wasted your time reading that last paragraph.
Making my readers hate me ASSide, what is important is that everyone I meet says 2 things to me. The first of which is usually “You’re full of shit you know that right?” but the second, THE SECOND SLIGHTLY LESS INSULTIVE AND DEPRESSING THING they say is “Where are you from?”.
Now this presents a mild dilemma. I’ve been accused of being Irish, Scottish, British, American and even had one elderly gentleman swear I was from his home VILLAGE in the mountains (perhaps it was the boobtube and stage name “Agatha” I was rolling with at the time) but sadly these are way off base and the reality of me not being one of the village people (self-destructive subtle sexual orientation attack!) is always rather depressing for the questioner to bare.
Considering I don’t like seeing their sad faces, and that cutting off their faces is a far too messy solution, I ask YOU my loyal readers and readettes……………..What should I say in response? What is a barely known but believable pile of bullshit-butter I can spread upon their question toast?
I am mostly Belgian in blood but having never even visited my supposed homeland and not speaking ANY of its clusterfark of languages leaves me a bit weary of stating that……and then being questioned as to why my knowledge of Flemish and French ends before it even begins would certainly awkwardify things more than even I can handle.
SO GO FORTH AND COMMENTULATE! Of course the majority of you haven’t actually heard my voice (Because I’m not douchetastic enough to pretend people on the internets want a sound clip of me saying random garbage……..let alone pretend it wouldn’t be god awfully embarrassing) but what I am asking for isn’t voice judgement, it’s ethnic deception!
I wish for a believable lie that will make their littler hearts flutter and then bugger off thinking I’m not just some strange bastard who warped his own voice to the point of no return.
The last entry sucked only because it lacked a PS section…..or at least that’s what I’m going to keep telling myself.