I Would Rather Chew Broken Glass Than...

.... Trim the Hedges

If ever there was a futile, ridiculous, exhausting task, it's trimming the hedges. And, no, "trimming the hedges" is not a euphemism for anything. We do not have an electric or gas-powered trimmer, so I go out there with a pair of manual hedge-clippers and do the business. We have a very small house, on a teensy-tiny piece of property. Trimming the hedges takes me approximately two fucking miserable hours. How fucking miserable? Well, the first time I did it, the next day I had a blister on my hand the size of a quarter because my wedding band had dug a hole into my hand. Now, when I cut the hedges, I don't wear my wedding band. And all the passing and jogging women think I'm a real swingin' single, as I sweat through my shirt and mutter obscenities under my breath everytime a bead of sweat from my forehead sends shooting stings into my eyes.

.... Participate in Another Group Project

Remember college? Hell-- remember GRAD SCHOOL? Remember participating in group projects that drove you to the brink of insanity?

Remember how professors told you that group projects would prepare you for the way things are done in the workplace?

Remember the one group member who never showed up to group meetings, or was two hours and fifteen minutes late?

Remember the group member who never understood the assignment, even after it was graded?

Remember how each group member got the same grade, even the one whose thumb was permanently lodged in his/her anus? Remember all that work you did to clean up the messes made by your compatriots?

Remember the damage-control?

Remember faking your way through "your part" of the presentation?

Remember trying to format four different PowerPoint presentations to make them all look cohesive, even though you were the only group member whose native language was English?

Please, serve me up an order of pork fried dumplings lovingly filled with broken shards of glass. I will eat all of them, and ask for seconds while wiping my mouth with a 40-grit sandpaper napkin before I ever, ever participate in another group project.

.... Watch Another Feel-Good &/or Apology Commercial

I don't know if they're eye-raping you where you live with identical or similar commercials, but in the Philadelphia area, we have these new "values" commercials. There's one about encouraging people to give compliments. There's this obnoxious, grouchy, bossy asshole in an apron (no, it's not me) bossing people around in a kitchen when, all of a sudden, this blue-collar Joe-the-Plumber type with some meat and bread shards sticking out of his mouth says, "Hey-- great sandwich. Thanks." The annoying voice over adds, "Compliments-- pass them on!" while the chef, who clearly didn't appreciate the compliment, waves Joe-the-Plumber off saying, "Get outta here!" under his breath.

How about a "Don't talk with fucking food in your mouth" commercial?

Then there's the PSA about weight loss that just kills me. Upbeat music plays while this impossibly fat bastard dressed from head to toe in black dances like he's on the overweight version of Soul Train. Voiceover: "For each pound you lose, that's four pounds pressure off the knees!"

Great.

This commercial airs every single morning at 7:29am, right after the local news update ends and they send us back to the Today Show, just as Meredith Vieira is putting her Bloody Mary underneath the desk. The sight of this fat guy dancing around, doing the robot or whatever he's doing, just makes me ill. Pass the glass.

I can't even begin to talk about the vomitrocious nature of the BP and Toyota apology commercials. Forget about eating broken glass, just stick it in my eyes/neck.

.... Perform in a Play That's Being Adjudicated

We're in Gettysburg today at the International Gilbert & Sullivan Festival's American leg. Companies from all over the place are descending on Gettysburg to perform G&S operettas and each performance is being adjudicated by a G&S authority. The thought of being in a play that will be publicly judged and possibly ripped to shreds makes me physically ill-- and that's just the thought of it. Funny-- I had always thought the adjudicators of theatre were the audience. But I guess I'm just fucking crazy.

.... Wear Shorts & Sandals

Those of you who've seen my legs and toes need no further explanation.

Actually, neither do the rest of you.