My Diseased Mind

What’s That Lassie? Joboo’s in Trouble?

A lot of people ask me about my process. Ok, that’s a dirty lie; nobody asks me about my process. Hell, I don’t even know a lot of people. But humor me, ok? Otherwise I’ll just make these paragraphs longer.

Anyway, about my process. I generally try to post at least every other day, but sometimes I fall down to weekly. Having something like a weekly haiku post is handy, because they’re relatively easy to write, and it boosts my already tenuous self esteem to have a recent post.

I get my ideas from a lot of sources. Sometimes I’ll have an idea for something that stews in my head for days or weeks, and other times it takes me less than half an hour from idea to posting. The ideas can come from news stories I find, Youtube, my personal experiences, or sometimes just random stuff that I make up.

Other posts come about through sheer serendipity. Today is a great example of timing, luck, and general idiocy combining to write a blog entry for me.

Joboo says:
Holy cow. You know that feeling that you get taking a dump after eating something spicy.

Joboo says:
You know, the ring of fire.

Joboo says:
Now imagine getting that when you haven’t eaten anything spicy at all. I’m a little concerned.

M says:
Hmm…

M says:
Is this a metaphor, or is your ass really burning?

Joboo says:
The ‘O’ in my Ohio St tatoo feels like it’s made of napalm.

M says:
So when did this start?

Joboo says:
Freakin’ condescend me.

Joboo says:
Um, today.

M says:
No, this is serious concern on my part. Ignore the monotone.

Joboo says:
Today when I made my first sacrifice to the porcelin god.

M says:
And no spicy food? Sometimes I forget.

Joboo says:
Nope. I’m sure of it.

M says:
Are you sleepeating again?

Joboo says:
Now you’re just trying to embellish.

M says:
I’ll put that down as a maybe.

M says:
You don’t gotta get all defensive about it. It’s not like you’re sleepvomiting or sleepshitting.

M says:
Wait. Are you?

Joboo says:
No & no.

M says:
Good. That’d have been awkward.

Joboo says:
Especially for my wife.

M says:
Sounds like your O-ring is injured.

Joboo says:
Great. “Hey honey, can you look at something for me?”

M says:
You’ve been married a while. Might be ok.

M says:
Or you could squat over a mirror.

Joboo says:
She might have caught a glance at one time or another.

M says:
If you’re caught, just tell them you’re exercising.

Joboo says:
Exercising what would be the question.

Joboo says:
Or rather, for what reason.

M says:
Exercising your lack of shame?

Joboo says:
Please. I think the fact that we’re having this conversation shows that is in good shape.

M says:
Can we start over and call it a metaphor? In the Choose Your Own Adventure version of this conversation, that’s really where we fucked up.

Joboo says:
If you want to call it a metaphor, fine. Call it a metaphor.

M says:
It’s a metaphor for rectal burning.

Joboo says:
I’ma gonna go get some ice for my metaphor.

M says:
Go right ahead. I’m firing up the soldering iron for my eyes.

Joboo says:
Wuss.

Joboo says:
Lunchtime. Ice cream sounds good.

M says:
But not to eat.

Joboo says:
Right.

Thanks man. You’re a lifesaver.