|if this resembles your cd collection, you could be a hoarder|
it is not important when you arrive to the party, just arrive.
and here you are!
a&e added 'hoarders' to its' network of dysfunction on august 17, 2009.
just in time, too.
|crystal meth doesn't play well with teef|
our fascination with mommies huffing spray paint, or boyfriends' selling blow-jobs-for-crack was beginning to wane.
maybe it's just me, but when i see an ass-balloon of heroin burst wide open inside a dude's rectum more than 2 or 3 times, all emergency rooms begin to look the same.
and IF, after 152+ episodes of "hey! surprise! this is really an intervention!" some dude approaches me and asks if i would like to be in a documentary about addiction, i am hauling ass the other way.
|"no fuckin' way! you guys are from intervention?"|
what better way to jar us from addict-complacency than a glimpse into the lives of the most severely, dysfunctional house dwellers on the face of this wonderful, freakin' planet?
as a matter of fact, it's 9 p.m. in philadelphia and courtney the heroin addict, has made her family miserable. she has a dog named ginger, who i know often wonders in her little puppy head " are you shitting me? of all the humans to stroll through the shelter, i get the one still falling for the "addict-documentary" line. this sucks."
but hoarders is a forensic entomologist's dream! maggots and larvae dining on a family cat everyone thought ran away 8 years ago.
wpht technical producer, greg stocker, gave the best explanation for the success of show like 'hoarders', "it's like watching a car wreck." best wreck ever!
those of us with the great fortune of existing outside the main line bubble, have more time on our hands to wrench our necks to gawk at other people's misfortune. and sometimes, it makes us feel just a better about our lives because we realize we could always be "that person."
main line bubblers are just too damned busy.
you guys are always on the move; fulfilling brand spankin' new upper class obligations with neither the time nor inclination to pay any mind to such things that exist beyond the main liners' zip code.
and i'm guessing there aren't many hoarders in your neighborhood like the ones you're going to meet on the real 'hoarders'.
y'all hoard totally different stuff.
but i won't judge.
i'm going to let charles murray do the judging, and he says (i paraphrase) "if you live in a bubble, you are gonna miss out on some good shit."
like hoarders, and nascar, and bonnaroo.
now, i can put together a pretty snappy outfit and go to the phila. museum of art one afternoon and no one would ever know i was in the wrong bubble.
on any given friday night, i can head to south street in clothes i bought at the salvation army and listen to my oldest son's band, 20 days in (no plug shame, here) and the only thing about me that MAY draw attention is my against-old-lady-rules silver hair which is apparently, way too long and the 51 years i wear on my face.
|old, pretty bald, wears jeans|
first off, since you refuse to wear jeans, the khakis scream- "I DON'T LIVE ANYWHERE NEAR HERE AND THE ONLY REASON I'M HERE, IS THAT FELLOW UP THERE."
and i know you would wear some leathery, loafery things without socks. i have nothing else to say about that.
and the "my purse has a name" thing doesn't fly either.
my fellow bubblers and i learn to adapt. we are like fantastic, fun chameleons. we dare switch up our colors and go where we wanna go.
i highly, highly recommend y'all pop a little hole in yours, and dare venture and see all that you're missing.
like snookie and blue jeans and a thug in a cocktail dress!
you are not living until you see this stuff.
and charles murray even says so!
|wouldn't it be cool if we could all wear our colors like this little guy?|