Amoeblog

(Wherein we wish woved ones well!)

Posted by Job O Brother, January 9, 2013 10:25am | Post a Comment
jake gyllenhaal swinsuit

dead unicorn
Here's a picture of Jake Gyllenhaal spitting out sea water and a dead unicorn.
You're welcome.

The day after Thanksgiving I was returning my home to its normal layout. (We’d transformed our living room into a banquet hall; it looked good, but I still don’t know how I’m going to repair the dent in the floor left by the wind octet.) In the process of carrying the pool with live swans upstairs to the sewing room (you have to make due when living in the city) I heard a sound come from my lower back that sounded like an excerpt from a composition by Harry Partch


Yes, Christmas came early and Santa brought me sciatica. (Even though I specifically asked for a pony. With sciatica.)

What is sciatica? It is a set of symptoms including pain that may be caused by general compression or irritation of one of five spinal nerve roots that give rise to each sciatic nerve, or by compression or irritation of the left or right or both sciatic nerves, the source of which typically stems from tiny devils prodding the inside of your bowels after the neighborhood witch has cursed you.

Continue reading...

(Wherein the author reviews the author.)

Posted by Job O Brother, January 24, 2011 04:33pm | Post a Comment
depression
Smile.

Don’t take this personally, but I totally don’t feel like writing this paragraph you’re reading. As grateful as I am to have a slot on the illustrious Amoeblog, and even though I have a great big crush on you, dear reader, there are times (they’re rare, but there) when I feel like I have nothing to give, and this is one of those times.
 
A week ago I was sick, and this week I had a brief but intense emotional breakdown; I cried so hard I dry-heaved, and gave voice to deeply personal and vulnerable psychological wounds in a tone not unlike Mary Tyler Moore when she got very upset with Rob Petrie or Lou Grant.

meat
I mean really... what's the point of anything, anyhow?

As if all this wasn’t enough to render me limp, I discovered today that our young cat, Maybe, has a taste for new, unused garbage bags…

I am not a strong man. Well, physically I’m totally strong and could absolutely beat up your dad, but my heart is tender and prone to aching. This world often feels too cruel and complicated for the likes of me. Usually I can fake it, but every once in a while the stress and fear and sadness fills my holding tank to capacity, and there’s spillage.

(In which Job honors his Mother.)

Posted by Job O Brother, May 10, 2010 12:27pm | Post a Comment
 

victorian woman
An actual picture of my Mother (not pictured here).

In honor of this week’s Mother’s Day, I’m dedicating this entry to my Mammy. 

I remember Mom liked the house kept quiet so she could concentrate on reading her scripts. It also allowed her to track the progress of the housekeepers; she could hear if they were spending their time talking, how much time they spent scouring the living room tile, etc. It was kind of intense, but not as bad as when she stopped getting decent movie roles and her alcoholism worsened. That’s when she started beating me with coat hangers and…

Continue reading...