I Need Compensation

Jerry Maguire ruined eating chocolate from a box for me. One could make an argument for Forrest Gump. I mean, that would be the popular choice, but it was Jerry Maguire that fucked it up for me.

It’s the week between Christmas and New Year’s. It’s this weird space between the two heavy weight holidays. People are partying and work doesn’t seem quite as important.

There’s also totally different food rules. For instance, I never buy boxes of chocolate. Hardly ever. But yesterday, I found a box that was half off. 4.99. I couldn’t afford to not buy the chocolates.

Have I enjoyed my chocolate? Well, sure, because it’s chocolate, but the experience has been tainted.

You know that scene in Jerry Maguire near the end of the movie when all the divorced women are together talking before Jerry shows up and has Dorothy at hello? Well, the women are bitching about the upcoming holiday and one whines about ‘the constant chocolate eating’.

I cannot eat a piece of candy out of a box without hearing that woman’s voice in my head. I should sue Jerry Maguire’s executive producers for mental anguish.

That shit happens, right? You’re living your life…minding your own business and some movie comes along and in a matter of seconds, your life takes a left turn and you forever hear some stranger’s voice in your head when you eat chocolate from a box.

Or how about this one? How many times do we ever get to hear someone say “I’m mad as hell” without someone saying ‘And I’m not going to take it anymore”?

That is as inevitable as hearing at least one person at work saying “See you next year” on New Year’s eve.

I can’t hear Stuck In The Middle With You without seeing Michael Madsen dancing around with a severed ear in his hand.

I just tried to find the actress who whined about the constant chocolate eating, but there weren’t any pictures on IMDB of the actors who were part of the women’s group and it got boring. I am kind of proud of myself, though. This was as close as I’ve ever gotten to research for a blog post.

Like my last blog post, I offered to give away a button that says ‘bad at petting goats’ and someone pointed out in the comments that it actually says ‘cats’ not ‘goats’. In my defense, it still looks like ‘goats’ to me.

I don’t want to be misleading, but not as much as I don’t want to research anything or worry about always being factual.

The point is, I bought chocolate. I can’t eat it without hearing a whiny voice in my head and I blame the makers of Jerry Maguire for that. The other point is, I bought this box of chocolate because it’s the holidays and it’s the only time of year I do this shit.

I hope this new year’s eve, your evening is filled with sparkly drinks and kisses and those little cocktail wieners in barbecue sauce then end up getting all rubbery. That’s when they’re best. Don’t judge.

I hope you eat chocolate and good food from self cleaning dishes.

I hope that your new year’s eve is free of all sad tears.

See you next year.

 

 

 

 

 

38 Thoughts.

  1. rubber wieners huh…
    My New Years has already started with tears. Maybe I can get them over with before the company comes? Maybe I’ll just blame the goats.
    See you next year.

  2. Well, I went back and tried badatpettingcats.com (intead of badatpettinggoats.com) and behold! There was a site! Totally useless, and nothing about cats that I could tell, but I feel better knowing that I can find a simple web site without guidance! Hope you have a peaceful and not too fattening New Year! I love this blog!

  3. I tend to be that annoying person who has a movie line at the ready for most situations (I’d try to come up with something witty and appropriate right now, but I’m dog sick). Happy New Year to you, Michelle! Here’s to less anxiety and more laughter! 🙂

  4. There was a time when I couldn’t say anything without my dad finding a related song lyric to sing back to me. It annoyed the everloving fuck outta me. Now I miss it.

    Happy New Year! 🙂

  5. Rubbery cocktail wieners . . . sounds like little dildos so I think I’ll pass . . . I would however LOVE to have some self-cleaning dishes!

  6. Bad at petting cats? I once sent a text saying that I felt like a failure as a cat-playmate. I was supposed to be playing with Sammy, my friend Chris’s cat while Chris was at his second job, but Sammy went straight up into the loft where I can’t go and ignored all of my efforts to lure him down. Even the feather-on-a-stick routine didn’t work.
    I’d offer to look that actress up for you, but I’ve never seen the movie, and I still can’t see… My first cataract surgery is scheduled for the 19th of February, though, so if no-one looks it up for you before then (hint) I’ll see what I can do.

  7. The tears were inevitable, but there is Jamesons, so I’ll survive. Sounds like Armageddon here in London.
    I thought it said goats too, my eyesight is crap, stuff getting older.
    Happy New Year xx

    • I hope the tears have dried up…

      Yeah, Joey and I listened to the fireworks last night, too..it didn’t go on for a long time, but it was pretty loud for around 20 minutes.

  8. I ate cookies for breakfast before going to the gym twice this week (I ate cookies for breakfast on the other days as well but I didn’t go to the gym after). Have a happy new year…see you next year! <3

  9. Paraphrasing since I’ve never actually seen the movie: You want the truth? You can’t handle the truth!

    I don’t know how many times I’ve heard that. And I can’t hear the Stuck in the Middle With You song without seeing images of thong underwear moving across a clothesline. Do you remember those Fruit of the Loom commercials?

  10. I was in bed and asleep before midnight cause anxiety decided to come visit on the 27th, and is staying over as a most unwelcomed guest.
    Guest, my ass, I wanna kick the shit outta this feeling.

    Anyways, I did eat some chocolate, and it was good.

  11. That fucking Jerry Maguire! That movie will always be associated with the day I had a huge argument with my husband, he threw a glass of water in my face, I did crappy manual labor delivering phone books (alone, because the husband was an asshole and wouldn’t help), and then had a pit bull bite me the ass and had to go to the ER. After all of that, I went to see Jerry Maguire all by myself (sitting gingerly in the theater, because my ass had puncture wounds and a bruise the size of a dinner plate) — and I cried and cried, because I knew that my husband would never declare his undying love and need for me — not in private, and certainly not in front of a bunch of my cronies (not that I had any — but you know).

    Holy shit — how I hate that damn movie!

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