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Well, here we are. Just like last year on the first day of motherfucking Summer. Just like EVERY YEAR on the first day of motherfucking Summer. That’s right, Mein Poppets. It’s time once again for Muffy’s Annual Hot Weather Whine!

SAME AS IT EVER WAS.

Honestly? Just looking at this screen grab of the current temp and weather forecast in Palm Springs makes me want to kill myself.

No. Really. Kill myself. Dead. As in Death. Valley. Palm. Springs. Los. Angeles. At this point, it’s ALL just down the buckling, melting, sizzling street from me and it’s ALL the fucking same.

For those who don’t know, I grew up in Fresno and have an infamous, lifelong case of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) and, in contrast to what usually triggers others who are afflicted by this ruthless mental health condition, it is Summer that destroys my soul. I find the heat torturous and the scorching, sunny, desolate months between June and September as something merely to be endured. FML.

Consequently, I currently have the A/C crankin’ WHITE HOT and the goddamned Jean Nate on ice…and with today’s high temp of motherloving 107 here in fabulous Altadena, California, I am now settling into my usual Summertime routine:

1) Get on phone and obsessively check the 7 and 10 day forecast, desperately scanning the numbers for any semblance of hope. Read it and weep.

2) Plot own death by nasty means.

3) Raise fist to the heavens and curse god, even though I am an atheist.

4) Strip off all clothing except white, 100% cotton Target Granny Panties.

5) Drag my fatass to refrigerator.

6) Angrily snatch INDUSTRIAL-SIZED bottle of Jean Nate out of freezer.

7) Savagely remove Grannies. Unleash GUNT. Liberally spritz undercarriage with great abandon.

9) Execute motherfucking Bolshoi-worthy Grand Plié over industrial fan.

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10) Weep with relief.

11) Repeat until either the smack or the rat poison kicks in — and trust me, at that point it don’t matter which one. It’s all about the sweet oblivion.

12) FUCK SUMMER.

13) Now, bring me that GOTTDAMNED OCTOBER, BITCHES.

That is all.

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About muffybolding

Muffy Bolding is a mother/writer/actor/knitter/feminist/withered debutante who likes the smell of asparagus pee, and remains obsessed with the bathroom hygiene of her three children -- despite the fact that they are 23, 19, and 16. She is blissfully married to a cute Jewish boy who looks like Willie Wonka, but remains tragically in love with the dead poet, Ted Hughes. She has the mouth of a Teamster, and her patron saint is Rocco (pestilence relief.) Ms. Bolding lives in Southern California, where she enjoys typing words, making movies, and plucking the rings from the fingers of the dead. She was the co-creator and Editor-in-Chief of the award winning satire zine, Fresno Lampoon, and in between writing screenplays, carnival barking, and savagely threatening her trio of darling larvae with a wooden spoon, she currently publishes the zine, "Withered Debutante." More of her work can also be found in the anthology, "Mamaphonic: Balancing Motherhood and Other Creative Acts", the compilation zine, "Mamaphiles III: Coming Home", as well as in The Cortland Review and hipmama.com. She is currently writing and producing for film and television, and working on a book of essays entitled, "Inside A Chinese Dragon." She has slept around, but not nearly as much as she would have liked.
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One Response to fml

  1. leonore wilson says:

    I TOTALLY AGREE AND I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE!! THANKS SISTER-KIN!!! XO XO LEONORE

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