Image from National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, 1989
“Hallelujah! Holy shit!”–Clark Griswold
I wanted this next blog to be about my goofy love affair with cheese, or the oysters I recently tried, or the reasons why I am breaking up with Facebook. Instead, I am going to use Rachealizations as a means of stroke avoidance.
I don’t know if Mercury went into retrograde or the universe decided to test us all at once or what, but the last few weeks have been a giant shit sandwich with a side of hot monkey piss. Actually, let me back-up a bit. My “WTF” state-of-mind really started a couple of months ago when a spoiled piece of elephant dung went on a killing rampage just because he couldn’t get a girlfriend. Evidently, it never occurred to him that he was super-duper creepy.
And then a few weeks ago, the Supreme Court essentialy told women to quit bitchin’ about their lady parts and to get back in the kitchen, already. Justice Ginsberg’s response to the court was “Wait…what? That’s hella whacked, yo,” but Justice Alito just held up his hand and said “bitch, please.” Or, at least that’s how it seems in my mind.
From there it’s been mass murder, crackpots playing skeet with civilian planes, yet another college putting its fingers in its ears over some rapey football dicks, and a group of nutjobs getting their panties in a twitch because a Burger King in San Francisco wants to wrap its Whoppers in rainbow-colored paper.
Things are getting really weird worldwide, people.
Where’s the Tylenol? © Racheal Lee Bradford