Fun Fact: Depression is an actual (invisible, marble-sized) creature named Steve that gets into your medulla oblongata and saps your willpower to keep you from doing the things that you know will make you feel better (exercise, good food, communing with other humans). Which is to say that depression is both physiological and personal, and that while its effects can be temporarily ameliorated with the heavy use of narcotics, if you want it out of your head you’re going to have to go in after it with a crocheting needle.
I’ve been looking for a crocheting needle, but can’t seem to find one. So I’m having a hard time summoning the gumption for another blog post.
Instead, I’m going to gift you with this marvelous collection of some of my more interesting facebook status updates from over the past month. You’re welcome. Feel free to send me a laundry bill for all your laugh-urine stained underpants. Or just send the underpants. My address is 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. / Washington, DC. /2500. You’re welcome again…— josh barkey: Status: (ab)Normal
Welcome to America.
Here is your slate - don’t lose it. If you haven’t noticed, yet, it’s theoretically blank. But there’s a bar code with a whole lot of information and we’re going to scan it everywhere and, ha-ha, fun-fact: even if you do lose it we also tattooed that bar code onto your face. You’re welcome. In the interests of clarity, here are some things you should know…
If you are a woman, here is your job:
You are to look beautiful and young, and walk around so that men will see you, and tell you as much. “Beautiful” will be defined as follows: mostly-hairless, except on top. Mostly pore-less, especially on top. Emaciated-skinny wherever it’s in vogue to be so, and bulbous or rounded where it’s not — regardless of the physiological practicality of this, given your particular bone-structure and musculature. Laugh loudly and without reserve, but not too loudly. Wear a solid half-inch of make-up, but look as though you’re wearing none. Be smart when necessary, but always less smart than the most powerful man in the room. Throw money around like dead skin cells, never apologize for it, and if you ever DO grow old or put on a few extra pounds in the wrong places, have the decency to hide yourself away where no one has to look at you. You are, after all, primarily for looking at. Be slutty but coy, reserved but attainable, and resist the sexual advances of everyone right up until the very second when you throw off all your clothes and explode into meow-meow-psycho-jungle-cat sex-pot insanity. And if any of this makes you anxious, well, we’ve got pills for that. And shoes…— josh barkey: america the screwediful