Tag Archives: bowel movements

Corsage

Corsage: (n) a small bouquet worn at the waist, on the shoulder, or the wrist of a woman

I, for one, am thoroughly convinced that the only purpose we have as individual human beings is to discover ways to avoid the humiliation that often befalls us as a collective.

I don’t know why life, Mother Nature, creation—well, take your pick—has put together systems supposedly natural, which are so unnatural when put into funny wisdom on words that begin with a C
practice.

I don’t want to get graphic, but just the means by which we dispel our waste through bowel movements, and then trying to uncover a dainty process for not appearing absolutely gross while doing it and finishing up is a good example. Remember the lesson? “Take this flimsy piece of tissue paper in your right hand and reach around into your butt crack and clean yourself but make sure you don’t use too much of it or it will clog the toilet, but just enough that your hands can be used again for interaction with other souls.”

Sometimes I think God used the Earth and human beings more or less as an experiment, or maybe even a practical joke—and that somewhere in the Universe there is a new and improved human race which doesn’t have to deal with—shall we say?—natural humiliations.

This came to mind when I saw the word “corsage.” When I was in high school, I went to a prom and purchased such a flower at our local florist, who provided two long pins along with the arrangement, so that the man (in this case, me) could pin the corsage onto the young girl’s dress when arriving to pick her up for the date.

Is there anything that I just described that seems natural or sensible to you? It especially became horrifying when I walked in the door and realized that my date was bare-shouldered, and the place to pin said corsage was up near her precious bosom, which certainly did not need probing in front of her parents, especially with two sharp objects in my hand.

But it was all part of the fantasy.

The parents were standing by with their cameras, gasping, looking for a Kodak moment. The young lady I was taking to the prom had no more experience on this issue than me, so she stood by praying, lamb-like, pre-slaughter.

Somehow or another, I was able to get the pin stuck through the dress and into a little corner of the stem of the flower, where it somewhat dangled from her dress like low-hanging fruit.

I stepped away, greatly relieved that it was attached and that I was detaching.

Fortunately, as years passed, someone came along, admitting the horror and the potential blood-letting of the moment in adolescence, and invented a corsage with Velcro, which hooks onto the wrist—did you hear me?—the wrist of the girl—and doesn’t require prickly points.

Now isn’t that smart?

Couldn’t we perhaps have skipped a step and gone to something like that to begin with instead of tempting the fates, the gods or the fumbling hands of a teenage boy?

Even though the corsage question seems to be handled, I still break out in a cold sweat every time I see one, frightened that some old person in the crowd will shout, “Hey! Just for old time’s sake, why don’t you pin it on her?”


Donate Button

Subscribe to Jonathan’s Weekly Podcast

Good News and Better News

 

Childlike

Childlike: (adj) of an adult, having good qualities associated with a child.

After avoiding it for decades, I finally went to one of my high school reunion luncheons, to meet up with the old gang, whom I had not seen since I held diploma in my hand and dreams fluttered in my brain like butterflies.

We were older.

Unfortunately, we live in a society that deems aging as either a crime or a disease rather than a natural situation which is meant to garner advantage.

What is the advantage of being older? You have sorted through the younger things to do and eliminated the ones that cause humiliation and disease.

That’s pretty powerful.

But what I discovered when I sat down to eat my lunch was that my classmates from a former time were very concerned about their health–cholesterol, salt intake, circulatory system and bladder. I probably should also throw in a few mentions of bowel movements.

It started off well, but when I ended up being glib and funny instead of decrepit and dying, a resentment settled into the room.

I think my friends found me childish. “That guy never grew up. Doesn’t he know there’s a certain protocol for being our age?”

I kept talking about the things I was still doing, the places I wanted to go, the things I was seeing, the passages I was writing and the songs being composed. I was not bragging. I was thrilled to be alive, to share with these old haunts.

Try as I would, the conversation was incapable of reaching the level of being childlike. I brought up some of our former escapades, only to discover that rather than giggling over the incidents, heads were dipped in shame.

I don’t know much about heaven. Nobody does. It is an advertised hot spot without an adequate brochure.

But from what I have learned, it will be a mind trip into discovering the joys of being childlike, simple, joyous, playful and jubilant.

I sure hope we’re up for it.

 

Donate Button

Chafe

Chafe: (v) to make a part of the body sore by rubbing against it.

In the pursuit of complete transparency, wisdom dictates that some subjects still remain opaque. In other words, keep it to yourself.

I can think of a few:

I don’t want to hear about your bowel movements.

Maybe every once in a while late at night with a really close friend, the subject might offer some entertainment value, but overall, keep your
fiber intake private.

Here’s another one: your sexual prowess.

Please don’t even allude to it. Don’t get in mixed company and talk about how you were voted the best kisser in your senior class as you peer around the room to see if all the hearers have truly heard. I admit, it is rare to find any human being who will be truly honest about their weakness in the bedroom, but please, don’t tell me a bunch of stories or offer affidavits from satisfied customers.

Here’s another one: make your faith in God a visual thing that I can perceive by watching your actions, instead of something you need to recite in detail to make sure you have truly and completely fulfilled your obligation to testify.

Religion should not be personal, but rather, very public–because we live it out. But if living it out is not enough for you to make your point, then passing out pamphlets probably won’t improve your chances.

There are many others I could mention, but let me close by saying that you should probably not discuss how or how often you chafe.

I am an obese man, so my thighs have been known to have unnecessary intercourse with one another during the day, leaving them red and raw. But you don’t need to hear me discuss it or request possible remedies.

Weakness is a good thing if nearly everyone in the room shares it in common and can immediately identify with it.

But if your skinny friends have never chafed, they will probably have neither interest nor sympathy for your red, glowing, puffy legs.

 

 

Donate ButtonThank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix  

 

Access

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Access: (n.) 1. means of approaching of entering a place 2. the right to use or benefit from 3. the right or opportunity to approach or see someone 4. the action or process of obtaining or retrieving information stored in a computer’s memory 5. the condition of being able to be reached or obtained.

Here we go again.

Over and over, we see the same stupid procedure utilized by seemingly intelligent men and women when confronted with the inadequacy of their performance. For some reason or another, people find it difficult to simply say, “I screwed up.”

Nearly every President throughout our history has suffered from some sort of scandal–not because error occurred, but mainly generated by the back-pedaling and lying initiated after the fact.

I am not positive at what age we begin to hide inside our shells and “turtle” our emotions and motivations away from the world around us. It certainly isn’t when we’re little kids. I remember when I was a child, I embarrassed my parents by walking out holding my own turd in my hand to explain to them that I had failed to make it all the way to the bathroom. Much to their dismay, this presentation was acted out in front of some clients they were trying to impress. It wasn’t that I was proud of my offering on that day–it was simply that I was naive enough to believe that it was essential to give my parents access to every part of my life–even misplaced bowel movements.

It must have been some time in my teens when it seemed more prudent to cover up my mistakes with lies and excuses, which I apparently succeeded in pulling off enough times that I thought I could pursue it as a lifestyle.

We can’t.

Although I agree that complete transparency might be optimistic, being the FIRST one to admit your failures is an advantage that God grants only to the wisest confessors. Once you are found out by strangers, you are at the mercy of their discretion. That’s frightening.

What would I tell the President if I were his advisor? Find out immediately where you had ANY tie-in with these existing difficulties–or KNEW anyone who had a link–and release the information as quickly as possible.

Certainly your enemies will have a heyday over the stupidity–but not as much as they will over the notorious disguise of the facts.

I love to write a daily blog because it gives me the chance to access the truth in my soul and give you access to it, before you independently discover what a dim-witted idiot I can be from time to time.

Yes, I will be so bold as to tell you that the only way to look smart in this world is to point out when you’re stupid. If you wait for the jury to come in, you will never be able to negotiate a plea bargain, and often, each one of us is careless enough that we must throw ourselves on the mercy of the court.