BE LIKE BOB

I like Bob Ross. No, I love Bob Ross. Not only do I watch his program because he's an awesome painter, but I sometimes watch him to fall asleep at night.  I have bouts of insomnia and his voice and the 'tap, tap. tapping' of his brush on the rough canvas are enough to lull a death-row prisoner to sleep. 

I was watching Bob last night, that's what I call him, Bob, and I was thinking how different the world would be if everyone were like him. Even if 50% of the population were like him, we'd all be so much better off.  Even if the other 50% of the population had the personality of the love child of Vladimir Putin and Roseanne Barr. 

Bob's a calm guy; nothing ruffles his feathers.  Someone came into your studio and painted a portrait of Kim Jong-un over your happy trees? Not to worry, we'll paint happier trees over Kim.  We'll paint a happy stream over his huge forehead, and a happy meadow over his bad 90's haircut.  Kim Jong-un won't get us down because we're Bob Ross.  

Imagine all the different scenarios in which having the personality of Bob Ross would come in handy...

You're rear-ended at an intersection. Ask yourself, "What would Bob do?"  Bob would say "That dent adds dimension to the bumper.  I was thinking of painting a panoramic landscape there anyway, and that dent will make the perfect dormant volcano crater."

Your loser roommate drinks all of your booze.  What would Bob do?  "No worries, bro.  I have a fifth of tequila I've been saving for a special occasion, and if running out of beer isn't a special occasion, I don't know what is.  Cheers, bro.  Drink up."

Your neighbor's dog thinks your yard is a giant toilet.  "That poop will fertilize the lawn and help grass and plants to grow.  Plants and flowers bring bees and hummingbirds.  Bees make honey, which is delicious, and hummingbirds, well, they're just so damn cute, aren't they?  Circle of life, man.  Poop is part of it."  

Your favorite sitcom is cancelled.  "Now I can buy it on DVD, watch it anytime I want to, and with no annoying commercials.  There's a director's commentary AND bonus features? Score!"

I want a bumper sticker with a silhouette of Bob and his awesome afro and the text will read "BE LIKE BOB."  That's how much respect I have for him. Is he a little "different?"  Hell yeah, he's different., but awesome people usually are. 

If you think you're a freak, or a nerd, or a geek, so what?  Look at Bob's damn hair; how many white people have the guts to have that hairdo?  Not many.  Bob doesn't care, Bob likes his hair.  Bob made a name for himself doing what he loved and not giving a shit what people thought about his hair, or his happy trees, or anything for that matter.  Bob didn't care if people thought he was a sissy, or gay, or a freak, or weird, or different because Bob was too damn busy doing what he loved to do and having a ball doing it.  

Do what you love, don't worry what other people think, love yourself and love life, and above all, remember; the world would be a better place if we could all just BE LIKE BOB.

Bob Ross, painting a picture.

©2013 Kari Potochnik

*If you want to use my cartoon, don't steal it,  just ask. I'm pretty cool like that.*

God Weighs In On The Gays

God: What's on the schedule for today?

Angel: Well, there's famine, like, everywhere. And violence. And war, hate, bombings, fire ants, blister packaging, and fitted sheets that keep slipping off the corners of mattresses.

God: Wow. I had no idea it was that bad.

Angel: Oh, and the gays.

God: What about them?

Angel: You know, same old same old. Homophobia, gay marriage protests, the whole "special rights" argument, blah, blah, blah. 

God: Seriously? Still?

Angel: Yeah, I know, right?

God: Are they still using Leviticus and Sodom and Gomorrah to back up their claims?

Angel: Yes, unfortunately. We've sent out memos, but people still aren't getting it.

God:  Ugh...look, can we just rent some billboards or something? Put up signs that say "THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT ABOUT THE GAYS" or "YOU'RE READING INTO THIS TOO MUCH."

Angel: We've done billboards. I don't think they're working.

God: Oh...well, what about some sort of divine sign?

Angel: If Elton John isn't enough of a divine sign that you're blessing the gays, I don't know what else is.

God: Ah, yes, Elton. Brilliant. You know he gets his talent from me, right? Oh, and don't forget Ellen. I just love her, isn't she the greatest? Do you watch her show? Hilarious!

Angel: Yeah, I'm a big fan. Listen, we need a solution here.

God: Right, right. Ok, ok, I got it. How about we hold a press conference?  Just Jesus and I and some reporters, nothing fancy. Make sure it airs on FOX, I want to see the looks on their faces. And invite Ann Coulter while you're at it.

Angel: I don't think that's a good idea. Do you really want all that publicity? Phones ringing off the hook up here, thousands of emails, people wanting book signings and photo ops, I don't think it's worth it, truthfully. 

God:  Yeah, you're right. Hey! I've got it! What if we just automatically give all the gays who get to Heaven VIP status? You know they eat that stuff up! They'll love it!

Angel: That's brilliant! Always with the great ideas. Seriously, how do you do it?

God:  I'm God.

Angel:  Right, right.

The Horrors of Personal Ads

Sometimes for fun, I scan the Craig's List personal ads. Mostly I check the "men seeking women" because they provide the most fodder for laughs. I'm seriously amazed at what some men post. And women, you're not off the hook either. I've seen some doozies in the "women seeking men" and definitely in the "women seeking women" categories. There's so much information to cover, however, that this post will be focusing on the "men seeking women" category. Ladies, you're not off the hook. I'll get to you in another post.

Listen, folks; when you post a personal ad, you need to cull all of your marketing skills and do it right because you are, in fact, MARKETING YOURSELF. You're selling YOU to another person. You're asking some stranger to set aside all of their fears and doubts about internet dating, to disregard every blind date horror story they've ever heard, to throw all caution to the wind, and to go out in public, on a date, with you. You need to be putting your best foot forward; and for God's sake, your best PHOTO forward.

Truthfully, some of the profile pictures and photos I've seen are so bad that I (almost) weep for the author. I say things like "You poor, poor bastard. A picture of you gutting a deer? Really? Why not just tattoo a swastika on your forehead?"

Here are some tips about profile pics:

Put a kitten in the picture. Seriously. Most women can't resist kittens, or puppies, or human babies, or any babies for that matter. They see a man with a baby ANYTHING, and all kinds of internal alarms go off. Alarms that say things like "MAKE BABIES WITH THIS NURTURING MAN---THIS MAN IS KIND BECAUSE HE CARES FOR BABIES---THIS MAN CARES FOR BABIES AND THEREFORE WILL CARE FOR ME."

Next, pay attention to what's IN the picture besides YOU. Women don't want to see wood paneling (ever), a messy garage, crappy, broken mini-blinds, your bathroom, your pecs, your biceps, a tapped keg (or an untapped one, for that matter), or that bitchin' Lynyrd Skynyrd flag that you call "art." Clean up your beer cans, too. We'll find out you're an alcoholic sooner or later anyway,  you can only hide it for so long. 

If your photo looks like a mug shot, a passport photo, or a young Charles Manson, it's not a winner. If you're holding a beer, a firearm, a dead animal, or a hostage, skip it. If the photo was taken more than a month ago, as in a Polaroid of you at a kegger in '92 before you dropped out of college, you know what to do, boys. 

Now, let's talk about user names. How you choose to label yourself on dating sites says a lot about what kind of person you are. Your user name should not contain ANY of the following words: man or dude (as in BeerMan69 or XBox360dude), stalker, hunter, hot (as in Hot4U), woody, bear, lover, Mario (even if your name really does happen to be Mario), gamer, Italian, or long. Do I really  need to elaborate on this? I didn't think so.

You'll presumably want to add a brief bio to your personal ad. I stress the word 'brief.' We don't need a novel, and after the first few sentences, most women have already cast judgement and are at least 90% sure of whether or not you're potential man-candy. You like sex? Super. We already knew that. You don't need to tell us. You should be telling women what makes you DIFFERENT from other men, and for God's sake have a sense of humor. Chicks dig a sense of humor and if you don't believe me ask an ugly comedian. If he's getting laid, it's because he's funny.

I've saved the best for last. Spelling. Men, learn how to spell and at least TRY to use proper grammar. Nobody's perfect, but all computers have a magic tool called 'spell check.' Start using it. There is no such word as 'lingurie.'(Yes, I once saw it in a bio on a dating site) That sounds like stinky cheese; the correct spelling is 'lingerie.' If I had a nickel for every time I saw a man use the word "women" in place of "woman" I'd have a bank full of nickels. "Women" means more than one woman and you're presumably looking for only one woman. Unless you're a Mormon and actually ARE looking for women. Lastly, please, please, please don't use 'text speak.' I'm sure you really are 'lookn 4 a gr8 lady' and are 'up 4 hangn w ppl' but you'll be getting invited for sleepovers and lazy Sundays in bed with pancakes if you use proper spelling and grammar.

Remember, a personal ad is like a resume and the job you're applying for is Awesome Boyfriend. Sell yourself! Better yet, pay a woman to write your personal ad and let HER sell you.

Know Your Tax Forms From Your Lubricants

I work in a library at the circulation desk, and believe me, I see ALL kinds of crazy on a regular basis.  You would think that for the most part the people who hang out in libraries are intellectuals, pedantic know-it-all's, philosophers and knowledge seekers.  This is a blatant lie perpetuated by people who DON'T hang out in libraries.   The library where I work is basically located in the Compton of the Midwest. OK, maybe it's not THAT bad, maybe it's ComptonLite. You get the idea. I have seen, heard and smelled it ALL.

Moving along; the library carries tax forms that are available free of charge to anyone who wants them.  When you walk into the library, the forms are in plain view and there is even a sign that says "TAX FORMS" posted near the three huge tables of forms.  There is also a nicely printed, colorful poster that uses guidelines to show you which forms you will need to pick up. Do people read the nice signs? Read?! What nonsense! Why who would READ in a library?? But I digress...awhile back, a young man aged about 16 approaches me at the front desk.  The dialogue of our conversation was as follows:

"Can i help you?"
"Yeah, i need a WD40 tax form."
"Umm...I don't think you mean WD40, that's a lubricant.  You probably need a 1040 tax form."
"Well, my dad said to come down here and get a WD40 tax form."
"Well...there are W2 tax forms, but you need to get those from your employer.  Your dad probably wants you to pick up a 1040 form."
"Well, where can I get that?"
"All of our tax forms are on that table over there.  You'll find the 1040 on the first table."
"What does it look like?  I mean, how will I know which one it is?"
"It's written at the top of the form. It says "1040" Here, why don't you ask Mike, he's our reference librarian.  He can help you better select the form you need.  His desk is right over there."
"Ok, thanks."

So the young Albert Einstein walks over to Mike's desk, and what does he ask for?  Does he ask for a 1040 form?  Does he ask which tax form will best suit his father's needs?  No.  He says to Mike "Yeah, I need a WD40 tax form."

Mike stares blankly at me. 

What I said: "1040, Mike. He needs a 1040."

What I wanted to say: "Son, the WD40's are over there, right next to the 10W30's, between the Formula 409's and the B-52's"

So the next time you think working in a library would be a nice, quiet job where you'd get to sit and read all of the time, think again.  Unless you're ready to deal with things like urine-soaked books, the remains of a haircut on a bathroom floor, or a man who thinks it's perfectly normal for him to be doing vertical push-ups against the shelves in the biography section, stick with your day job.  And please, from all of us librarians, do know your lubricants from your tax forms.

Laugh At Me, I Need A New Car

I'm starting this blog because I need a new car.

People have been telling me for years to start a blog, write a book, etc. but the truth is I'm just too lazy and too much of a rejection-phobe. Now, however, I have incentive. When my blog becomes wicked famous, there will be sponsors coming out of the woodwork, publishers scrambling for a book deal, Michele Obama, Hillary Clinton, and Oprah will be fighting to by my BFF. Then, when I'm rich, I can buy a car. I don't know why I didn't think of this before. It's all good, in theory and if it doesn't work out as planned, I've lost nothing, right? So tell all of your friends about this awesome blog so I can get my car. 

Also, if I become rich and famous, I'm very generous and there might be something in this for you. Yes, YOU. You, reading this right now. It might be a $5.00 Target gift card, or it might be a trip to Cancun. Seriously, if I think you're awesome and you're not an ass, I promise to remember you when I'm rich, ok? I once gave a homeless woman the last $5.00 I had in my wallet, so there's your proof. Granted, she then thought I was a bank and wouldn't leave me alone for months, but that's another story. 

I should probably tell you a little bit about myself, so...I'm 34, I'm a single mom, I'm 99% gay (not even joking about that one), I work in a library (it's not as peaceful, quiet and serene as you might think), I'm tremendously antisocial (I have no life and I like it that way), I hang out with my ex-mother-in-law, Nancy, (who's my BFF and is a tremendous help in my quest for funny stories. I know it's weird but whatever.), I have anxiety over the big and little things in life (I've turned my car around to go home and make sure I turned the coffee pot off, like, a million times), I'm a total people-pleaser (but that's all going to change...someday...if it's OK with everyone else), I'm kind of cynical (OK, a LOT cynical), I couldn't keep my house free of clutter if you offered me a million dollars, I'm WAY into crafts (Pinterest is my crack cocaine), and I like long walks on the beach. 

Actually, that last one was a lie. I don't like long walks ANYWHERE. I'm lazy like that; I don't even like to bend over if I don't have to and I can pick up almost anything with my toes. It's a skill I've been honing for years, and I'm awesome at it. Have I almost suffered major injuries while trying to pick up my underwear with my toes? Yes. Did I have to bend over? No. Totally worth it. 

So let's get this party started and help Momma get a new car, ok? Follow me for hilarious, self-deprecating, shameless, humor. Laugh with me, hell, laugh AT me. I do...and so does pretty much everyone else. Get on the bandwagon, I promise you won't regret it!