I am notoriously dense.
Okay, that came out wrong, because you’re thinking of me like I’m a piece of particle board or something, which I am most certainly not. I am much more glamorous than particle board, Pranksters. But I’m not always very smart when it comes to things that will deeply, mortally wound others. That’s why I was really hesitant to post the question from Prankster #1 yesterday.
The first time I really wounded someone unintentionally, I was in high school. It was Christmas time. I’d just gone shopping for my friends, and if you know me, I’m a great gift-buyer…so long as you don’t expect anything you want or anything useful. A light-up shower head, perhaps, or a toilet seat that sings “Take Me Out To The Ball Game” when you sit on it. These are things on my own want list, so you can imagine what I’d have picked out at 17, when my budget was a little tighter.
I’d bought one of my friends some sparkly Crayola* bath soap and another some Jack Daniels flavored coffee. The one that I deeply wounded, I’d bought some lotion.
It was called “Udderly Smooth.”
Now, I found this uproariously funny. The lotion, that is. It’s lotion, that’s all, “I’m for udders, motherfucker!” I really couldn’t see anything not awesomely hilarious about this. I was certain that my friend, who loved a joke as much as I did, would love it.
This was not what I expected to have happen. I’ve added some pictures so that you can better feel like you were there.
Aunt Becky: “Merry Christmas, yo! Sorry I didn’t wrap it. Wrapping is bullshit.”
My Friend: “WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?”
Aunt Becky: *giggles* “Isn’t it awesome? It’s like it’s for COWS but it’s NOT. It’s fucking WHIMSICAL. I FUCKING LOVE WHIMSICAL SHIT.”
My Friend: “How could you DO this do me?”
Aunt Becky (thinking that she’s joking): “….”
My Friend: “THIS IS NOT OKAY.”
Aunt Becky: “…”
My Friend: “I thought YOU WERE MY FRIEND.”
My Friend: “We are NOT on SPEAKING TERMS. (flounces away)”
Aunt Becky: “Uh….”
It took her flouncing away for me to understand that the lotion had offended her. I, of course, was baffled. It was LOTION that was HILARIOUSLY HILARIOUS. I crawled back into the hot tub with my boyfriend who tried to comfort me with his penis.
I spent more time knocking my three brain cells around my skull trying to figure out what the problem with the lotion was than I’d spent trying to logicate who had the better version of “Hair of the Dog.” (the jury in my head is still out) I think I finally got it.
She thought I was calling her fat.
I wasn’t, of course. I’m not oblique or shy and if I have something to say, I’m not about to say it through a toilet seat or a bottle of lotion. And, quite frankly, the day that I end up caring about someone else’s weight is the day that I have entirely too much time on my hands.
Anyway, it was good preparation for blogging. Because you can’t say ANYTHING without pissing someone off. Or mortally offending them. It would be hilarious, if it wasn’t so annoying.
Me: “Mayo is bullshit.”
Response: “My great grandfather invented Miracle Whip, you know, and it cures diseases. So I’d appreciate it if you never talked badly about it again.”
Response: “Mayo is my religion and we pray to it every night. Are you, Aunt Becky a blasphemer? *THROWS STONES* I SENTENCE YOU TO DEATH, SINNER!”
Response: “I cannot be friends with someone who hates mayo.”
Response: “U R a bitter asshole. Why can’t you be happy for other people who LOVE mayo? Why do you have to be MEAN to people who hate mayo?”
Well, I’m tired of being the person who isn’t offended by things. I’m SO tired of letting minor irritations pass me by unaware, each tiny infraction not complained about, not picked apart piece by ever-loving piece. I, too, can be outraged! I, too, have wells of untapped anger that I want to unleash on the world!
I want a Twibbon and a snappy blog campaign full of righteous indignation! Maybe I can even turn my avatar a different color to support my cause! I want to set a Google alert and troll blogs of people with the opposite viewpoint! I WANT A BUTTON, DAMMIT.
Now, I just need a cause. My broken fingernail? Black socks? Thousand Island dressing? …powdered gravy? These ideas all have merit.
Pranksters, I think that the time for Pranking is afoot. We need a fake campaign of indignation that sounds real.
*not paid endorsement.