Jan 12, 2009

Living With David Beckham




















I'm getting tired of the gray weather, and it's only Day Four out of four fucking thousand, or however many hundreds of days our state is the color of old age. It never used to bother me, because I rather liked being depressed: it always made for better poetry, something reminiscent of that vomiting loved-up word jockey, Danielle Steel. The kind that gets made into a book called The Bridges of Madison County.

I want one of those "commercial days", where the sun is always golden and our teeth are always way too white; I want my scarf to blow in the wind as we drive off in our red convertible. I want commercial weather--I DEMAND IT. There's no way that California is located on the same coast as Washington; where's the weather balance, I ask you? And how!

I heard once that if you give something a name--like an illness or something else that's hard to deal with--you can accept it and move on. I gave my seasonal depression the name 'David Beckham' after hearing that, but it hasn't done much good. I thought if it was named after something really pretty, it might feel better and then fuck off--but that's not how David Beckham operates. I wonder how the Esq will feel about him moving in with us full-time; it's like the best worst threesome. At least *something* named David Beckham will be sleeping in my bed; surely that must be good for self-esteem. I guess it's better than getting a tramp stamp (or, if you prefer, ass antlers).

On the brighter side, I am now the owner of three coats; on the dumber side, I'm the owner of three coats TWO WEEKS AFTER THE SNOW, but whatever. I hit the crazy Target sales and came out a woolly winner. Now I'm off to bake something with dark chocolate and orange zest and you're jealous.

18 comments:

phoebe said...

just shows you that David Beckham is not much of a cure-all. You think Posh would smile a fuck of a lot more if he was. by the look on her sour puss (as in face yo sicko), he doesn't seem to offer much. I like to imagine they are each other's scientology beards anyway.

Manthony said...

I second Phoebe on Posh's prickly poutings.

Princess Consuela Bananahammock said...

Yes, actually I am jealous. VERY jealous.

I *just* posted a mini-blog about the same thing (living in a grey world--posted at my NEW blogsite, hint-hint). I guess it's taking its toll on us here, eh?

Now I'm off to Google David Beckham. Seems I should know who the heck he is.

Jenny B said...

I heart zest.

Snotty McSnotterson said...

Phoebe, I agree--he's not a cure-all, but if I had to pick a Scientology beard, I might still pick him. Him or Professor Snape.

Snotty McSnotterson said...

I think Posh's prickly poutings are less about her husband, and more about how she looks like a fucking jack-o-lantern when she opens that hideous trap of hers.

Snotty McSnotterson said...

The Princess! I shall hop over to your new blog immediately. And I'm dying that you didn't know who DB was... actually, you're probably better off. :)

Snotty McSnotterson said...

Jenny B, I'm not surprised: you're *full* of zest. You're zesty!

Tobias! said...

OMG this was so funny--I read it out loud to my partner and he died at 'David Beckham'... we both love the little British manwhore.

Snotty McSnotterson said...

As do I. Mostly for the manwhoring photographs, though--in real life, he's not super smart.

Marko said...

Oh David!

Snotty McSnotterson said...

I thought you might like the picture, Marko--I've seen the pics on your site! Finally I have one to rival yours. :)

Mathias N Oz said...

Beckham has a tramp stamp... hee hee!

Manthony said...

I'd also never heard the term "ass antlers" before. Reading those words changed me, and not for the better.

Melissa B. said...

I'll take some of that...the Beckham, that is, not the seasonal depression. I'm waiting for the sun to start shining a tad more my own self. Winter has too many gray days!

Snotty McSnotterson said...

Mathias: I couldn't BELIEVE it. It's a prominent tramp stamp, too!

Snotty McSnotterson said...

Melissa, I would definitely take the real DB into my house, but feel quite sure my boyfriend would slaughter him before we made it to the bed. Damn him.

Snotty McSnotterson said...

Anthony: ass antlers are the new tramp stamp. :) We can get matching ones!