Dramatis Personae

No-drama1

If you’ve been following this blog, you should be aware that there’s a great deal of drama in my life.

In fact, the International Bureau of Standards has recently contacted me to gain my permission for them to use my name as a unit of measure for interpersonal drama.  The proposed unit, the ‘Scott’, would be used to quantify this whole drama situation, they explained excitedly … people’s lives, a workplace, a family home would be described in terms of the Scott-unit … for instance, a fairly close-knit, loving family (e.g. the Waltons) might be described as a Scott 0.01 environment, while Norman Bates and his mother (from the movie Psycho, children) might be described as a Scott 10 environment …

They went on, and on, gushing about what a boon it would be to sociology, to finally be able to document and describe human conflict in terms amenable to statistical treatment and –

It was right about this time that I told them to shove sociology up their arrogant asses and get the fuck out of my house.

This garnered significant glances between them. They each whipped out little black notebooks and began scribbling notes.

“A Scott  2 tirade?” the first asked.

“I’d go with a 2.5, or even a Scott 3!” the other exclaimed.

I sighed and reached for my emergency can of WD-40.

Don’t get me wrong:  there was nothing squeaky in my living room, and I had no intention of squirting the stuff into their eyes, before hammering in their heads with the can:  I am not, after all, a barbarian!

Instead, I squirted it at them and ignited the stream with a bic lighter, thereby making a home-made flame-thrower. (warning:  do NOT attempt this at home! There’s a really good chance that the can will explode!!! Personally, I don’t really give a shit whether I live or die, and care even less about your fate – but I absolutely do not want to be sued, so you have been warned, in no uncertain terms about the dangers of this procedure. Sign here.)

Ok, I reflected, as they ran screaming from the house, utterly forgetting to “Stop, Drop, and Roll”, maybe I AM a little barbaric

The truth is, having grown up in an era of traveling salesmen (even more irritating than telemarketers), I had always had a hankering to try out the whole WD-40/Lighter – flame-thrower … but, having been raised a Christian, I’d been taught to forgive ass-holes who offended me, and treat them the way I wanted to be treated, despite the fact that I knew they wouldn’t actually treat me the way I wanted to be treated, so up till this point, I’d been a door-mat for any and everyone, and had never actually tried out my home-made flame-thrower. In this case, I calmly decided, they had gone too far. They didn’t deserve to die I admitted to myself – but a few 3rd degree burns might not be out of line!

Almost immediately, I felt bad about feeling that way. Then I felt good about feeling bad about feeling that way.  I suddenly remembered the Rain God from  Douglas Adams’ So Long and Thanks for all the Fish, who had experienced this exact progression of emotions, and I began to worry about charges of plagiarism – almost immediately feeling like an idiot because I hadn’t actually written anything down, and therefore couldn’t — er, oh. Oh, my. PLEASE let’s all stay calm and NO ONE call Mr. Adams! Please.

— also, I know a couple of guys from the International Bureau of Standards that are sorely in need of a Rain God, just now – or, at the very least, some guys with Fire-Extinguishers, and access to a world-class burn unit …

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~ by dourscot on May 22, 2013.

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