Therapy Thursday


Dear Smarty and Mrs. Birdman:

I have a problem. I’m a sniveling sack of goat shit. I get into these weird moods sometimes, and even when everything in my life is good, I still find something to bitch about. While these concerns seem to be valid when I have them, on further inspection they are just a pile of tears and lack of sleep. I am debating on whether or not to submit this to you because I know how mean you can get, and I just don’t think that I can handle mean right now.

I think it has to do with not working, but especially the feeling that I’ll be back on the highway soon. I realized after driving to Toronto today that I fucking hate that job. I know that you aren’t allowed to take down license plates and give cops handjobs to find out where the people live, but I was oh so tempted today. Anyhow, I am going to hit the pavement on Tuesday, and I’ll be taking whatever the first job offered to me is. I’m not concerned about how much it is, but benefits would be a huge tipping point.

So there you go. I’m a happily depressed mess, and I can’t imagine things being better than they are right now (except for a job, and possibly a speed reading course). My blog is experiencing a nice, gradual upswing in numbers, and I’m sad about losing some old friends. I guess I shouldn’t be, because I’m not writing it for those cunts, am I?

Do you have the time to listen to me whine, about nothing and everything all at once,


Dear Honey,

I’m just going to come right out and say it:  “This is a First World Problem.”  It is like you are trying to find shit to be depressed about.  You are happier than you have ever been, (except for the job part) and the rest is gravy, baby.  Yes, we need two incomes in this family, and I am sorry you have to hit the bricks this week, but just because we settle for the first job that comes our way, doesn’t mean that is the job you are going to have for the rest of your life.  We will keep searching for something that works for us as a family, and that you actually enjoy.  Maybe it won’t be great for a little bit, but it will get better.  You’ll be coming home each night to all the love you can handle, and that ain’t half bad.  This has been a great opportunity to grow your blog and to really focus on writing and being creative.  I’m so proud of your stuff, and I often go back and re-read old posts just to relive them.  I love reading your work, and I am continually amazed and impressed by what you can accomplish when you set your mind to it.  I know there is nothing you can’t do, especially with me by your side.  🙂   You can identify and define yourself by whatever crappy job pops up next, or you can think of it as a segue to the next amazing adventure in our lives.   I am so happy in this life we’ve created, and I am so proud of you and all you have accomplished.  I love you, and I will always be your number one fan.

Don’t stop believin’,

Mrs. Birdman

Smarty Pantaloons’ Turn (Make me a graphic too)

Dear Poopy-Pants McGillicuddy:

Smarten the fuck up and quit worrying about who likes you. Look at me. I’m despised by multitudes of people for a number of reasons. Do you see me changing my life for them? No fucking way. When the family sat me down for my 7th intervention, I said ” I didn’t quit all of those other things when you tried this shit before. What makes you think that I’m going to quit giving myself Lysol enemas because you want me to? Now hand me that hose Aunt Becki.”

That’s right, Lysol gets you high when you hoop it. Stop by sometime if I’m at the lake, and I’ll blast you one. I’ll be under the tarp over by the grey shack.

Are you worried that people don’t like the excessive use of profanities like cunt, cock goblin, or jizz factory? Well then, I’ll start to loosen them up for you.

Another thing you need to do is to write a rant about those kid diddling Catholic priests that the church is always covering for. Fuck them up their papist assholes. Throw them in a cell with Jerry Sandusky and see who comes out on top.

I hope it’s this guy.


Before you say anything, I found the pic on CockBoys, so that proves he’s gay, right? I tell you one thing. I’d never be able to get away from him if he decided to grab a hold of me with his big, muscley arms, and pin me down on the ground in an effort to have his way with me. I sure hope he doesn’t, but I’m just saying that I’d be powerless if he, or anyone else, really, ever wanted to do things to me in a sexual way. I wouldn’t be able to fight them off, but I would want to. For sure I would. Mmmm, fighting… them… off. Sigh.


Anyhow, quit your fucking boo-hooing, and go crawl on top of that fine filly that you married, or me, whatever you want.


14 thoughts on “Therapy Thursday

  1. (still giggling from all 3 views)
    Birdman, Mrs Birdman and Smarty – 3 of the best contributors to the WWW! (that could be the World Wide Web or Wicklow Wide Web!)
    Dude, you will find a not so great job soon, but you will make it fun and very interesting for the existing employees, and you will love it! Be able to come home at the end of each day to a party inside 4 walls! I wish I could pull some strings to hook you up but pullin strings in my position just brings the top totem pole bums, a little closer to my nose!
    Good luck!
    tired of the typical, waitin on the wonderful!

    • Thanks buddy. I know that something will come along. As long as it keeps me in margarita fixins we should be okay for the summer, right? Thanks for the fun times, and for always cheering me up.

  2. Aww, muffin. You are going to have to do something you don’t want to do? I’d be crying too. Just keep wiping away those tears and maybe someday you will be like me and get your dream job. You can’t imagine the sheer bliss I feel every day knowing that I get to pump gas for people who complain to me about gas prices, like I have control over them. Or sell contraband cigarettes to some toothless ogre from south oshawa who has a phlegmy cough but not the courtesy to cover their mouth. And maybe, if you get lucky, you will get to work almost every weekend. No, that’s too much. Nobody can be that lucky, can they? 😉

  3. If you’re not too proud. I have a million dollar idea.. As long as I could make you my worker bitch. I cannot divulge the finer details, surely there’s another wannabe millionaire out there that would like to steal my crappy idea.. But I can give you a teaser, it has to do with shit. Yes real poo, but not people poo if that makes the offer more attractive.
    And you really need no financial investment I’ll supply that, ok I take that back, it would be beneficial if you could supply your own pink rubber boots and car, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to also bring a pressure washer ( if you have one), and a positive cheery attitude.
    So.. You in?

    • I love ya, D Money! I don’t care what the Birdman wants to do with his career, I’m on my way to get some pink rubber boots and a purse for him to put all them Benjamen’s in….
      (author note: It’s not as fun to call Canadian 100’s ‘Sir Robert Borden’s, but if y’all insist on accuracy I could be shamed into editing my comment)

    • You never told me the rest of the story after your POS phone died. I’m very interested in handling shit, especially if it’s from a dog. It pays okay, but better than that is I can use it in my flaming bags of poo that will be a huge hit on this coming Halloween.

      • Why oh why would you be under the assumption that it’s dog poop?
        Oh damn, I actually just got another idea thanks to you, you could prepackage the poop bags and we could totally hit the big time. It’s all in the marketing and pretty packaging. They could pick the kind of shit and the stench factor and perhaps the volume. … Guess you’d have to keep it fresh somehow… Hmmmm….you think mrs bird would free up some freezer space?

  4. As one who has floated from job to job to job, including my dream job of being a medic only to see that dream fall away because of anxiety, wait….what was my point? Oh yeah! I remember now. Any job is a good job if you get to be home every night with your family. As your beautiful wife said, you can always keep looking and find something better. Your job does not define you. You define you.

  5. Here’s an idea. Give your employer a “change the topic” business card. You won’t have to work there for very long…

    • Here’s my idea: Go fuck yourself. Oh, and I’ll give that a try if I don’t like it before my three months is up.

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