Entry Submitted by GK at 1:54 PM EST on December 7, 2019
I have endured horrors. There are tales of life and death, blood and bones. Cancers, administering CPR to loved ones, in hope they would come back.
Car accidents, trains, fist fights and horrors that cannot be unseen. But there are no horrors quite like embarrassment.
We all loathe humiliation. Certainly as a child it is like burning ants under a magnifying glass. I used to be scared to death the other kids would learn my middle name.
I was paralyzed in fear that I was striking out in slow pitch softball. Especially if Peggy was watching. Halloween always packed horrors of humiliation because I too often let my older sisters dress me.
In sixth grade they fashioned a toga from a curtain and put a crown of tossed salad in my hair. The school had a parade of costumes and stuck to my back was a sign that read, " who made ah da salad?"
A dressing commercial tagline. Did you guess it? I was a Caesar salad.
I hate my sisters.
As I walked on stage in front of the school and in particular the older kids in 7th and 8th grade... I was mocked like the new guy in prison.
Worst of all, Peggy was too cool to wear a costume. She just shook her head just slightly. What was I thinking. The older kids would herald my wit?
There was a week in 5th grade when I was sick for a whole week. Yes I was lovesick over Peggy but this was the flu. I was feeling better and hanging out with neighborhood kids when my stupid evil sister began jeering in her torturous way. She was at the mailbox. I had a letter and get well card from Kim, Ann and Peggy.
"Eugene you have a letter from a girrrrellll."
I ran to grab it out of her hand and 5 boys ran after with as much curiosity as my evil sister. I plucked it from her hand, tore it into pieces and stomped it into a fresh puddle of muddy rain. No one would tease me with the contents.
Peggy, Ann and Kim liked me. This I knew. They had told me previously. So had Cara, Leslie, Sylvia and Dorian and Katie and Faith
Peggy's older brother tormented me on the bus about it. I hated it worse than pain. Yes I was sick in love with his younger sister but way too timid to come out of the closet and endure public humiliation over liking a girl. The amount of teasing I got about this subject makes it a wonder I am not wearing buttless chaps at the gay pride parade.
Humiliation comes in many forms as a child. My mother called me Gener.. please Mom stop. Did she not know it rhymed with weiner?
Then there was the delightful lyric, "Gene Gene made a machine, Joe Joe made it go, Art, Art blew a fart and blew the whole damn thing apart."
God I cringed. Stop with the limerick, dear God make it stop before Peggy hears it.
When you do stand up comedy and occasionally bomb and toss and turn all night in bed in horrified humiliation wondering who might see you on the street the next day and say... I saw you... Or worse yet... We saw you at the Comedy club last night and you sucked.
It has happened.
You ask yourself, what made you get up in public? What psychological disorder would prompt you to do such a thing? What self hating insecure need for approval mental malfunction puts a person purposely in a place he doesn't need to be. Would someone laughing at my joke make me whole?
I could go on and on but the topper of the popper charts is the following.
I think it was 7th grade or maybe 8th. The class was divided in half and we were standing across from one another along the walls. Someone said something funny. And you know when you bust out a laugh but don't open your mouth? The laugh found a hole and inflated the most perfect large snot bubble in snot bubble history.
Almost no one noticed. Except for Peggy who laughed and told Ann and Kim. Even more horrifying when they called my Dad to ask him my middle name. Then sang "Gordon... Gordy..." Behind the backstop as I flailed and missed the big slow softball 3 times to lose the game with runners on base.
Peggy started liking Tim after the great snot bubble incident of 1974. My heart never recovered.
****
Who wants to hear a bank story?
I was at my 150 year old rural town bank yesterday ordering a million dong.
The 150 year old bank manager came out of his office, walked up to me and stated, "You have that exactly right."
I wish I had asked for further clarification but I took it to mean the Vietnamese dong is about to revalue.
****
Yesterday December 6 I turned 59. If you have seen me on a dating site okay busted I am not 49.
The best relationships start the lies as early as possible. I don't really have that too many girrrellls like me problem anymore.
Now to choose a video to illustrate this essay.
Now let me end this with my donation buttons but say... There are many people worse off than me. Due to the generosity of strangers I am basically okay. My December bills are paid. I have food. I have sn apartment and my car is still running. Yes I am broke until January but really my only true want is my laptop back to finish editing my new movie. My entire economic plan is paying Peter with EZPAWN's money and other fortunes of chance, welfare, kindness and maybe even appreciation. I like to think my creative offering earns a few ducets in the bucket but I also know others need it more. Donating to Patrick is always a good idea or do your Christmas shopping by clicking on the ads on his blog.
There is a Christmas party in Illinois I'd like to get to but not necessary. I made soup today and have beer. I am very blessed. And I have a good feeling about the reset this week.
https://youtu.be/v0NHfcBa7Ao
Venmo and cash app
TVKalmes@gmail.com
______________________________________________________
If you wish to contact the author of any reader submitted guest post, you can give us an email at UniversalOm432Hz@gmail.com and we'll forward your request to the author.
______________________________________________________
All articles, videos, and images posted on Dinar Chronicles were submitted by readers and/or handpicked by the site itself for informational and/or entertainment purposes.
Dinar Chronicles is not a registered investment adviser, broker dealer, banker or currency dealer and as such, no information on the website should be construed as investment advice. We do not support, represent or guarantee the completeness, truthfulness, accuracy, or reliability of any content or communications posted on this site. Information posted on this site may or may not be fictitious. We do not intend to and are not providing financial, legal, tax, political or any other advice to readers of this website.
Copyright © 2019 Dinar Chronicles
I have endured horrors. There are tales of life and death, blood and bones. Cancers, administering CPR to loved ones, in hope they would come back.
Car accidents, trains, fist fights and horrors that cannot be unseen. But there are no horrors quite like embarrassment.
We all loathe humiliation. Certainly as a child it is like burning ants under a magnifying glass. I used to be scared to death the other kids would learn my middle name.
I was paralyzed in fear that I was striking out in slow pitch softball. Especially if Peggy was watching. Halloween always packed horrors of humiliation because I too often let my older sisters dress me.
In sixth grade they fashioned a toga from a curtain and put a crown of tossed salad in my hair. The school had a parade of costumes and stuck to my back was a sign that read, " who made ah da salad?"
A dressing commercial tagline. Did you guess it? I was a Caesar salad.
I hate my sisters.
As I walked on stage in front of the school and in particular the older kids in 7th and 8th grade... I was mocked like the new guy in prison.
Worst of all, Peggy was too cool to wear a costume. She just shook her head just slightly. What was I thinking. The older kids would herald my wit?
There was a week in 5th grade when I was sick for a whole week. Yes I was lovesick over Peggy but this was the flu. I was feeling better and hanging out with neighborhood kids when my stupid evil sister began jeering in her torturous way. She was at the mailbox. I had a letter and get well card from Kim, Ann and Peggy.
"Eugene you have a letter from a girrrrellll."
I ran to grab it out of her hand and 5 boys ran after with as much curiosity as my evil sister. I plucked it from her hand, tore it into pieces and stomped it into a fresh puddle of muddy rain. No one would tease me with the contents.
Peggy, Ann and Kim liked me. This I knew. They had told me previously. So had Cara, Leslie, Sylvia and Dorian and Katie and Faith
Peggy's older brother tormented me on the bus about it. I hated it worse than pain. Yes I was sick in love with his younger sister but way too timid to come out of the closet and endure public humiliation over liking a girl. The amount of teasing I got about this subject makes it a wonder I am not wearing buttless chaps at the gay pride parade.
Humiliation comes in many forms as a child. My mother called me Gener.. please Mom stop. Did she not know it rhymed with weiner?
Then there was the delightful lyric, "Gene Gene made a machine, Joe Joe made it go, Art, Art blew a fart and blew the whole damn thing apart."
God I cringed. Stop with the limerick, dear God make it stop before Peggy hears it.
When you do stand up comedy and occasionally bomb and toss and turn all night in bed in horrified humiliation wondering who might see you on the street the next day and say... I saw you... Or worse yet... We saw you at the Comedy club last night and you sucked.
It has happened.
You ask yourself, what made you get up in public? What psychological disorder would prompt you to do such a thing? What self hating insecure need for approval mental malfunction puts a person purposely in a place he doesn't need to be. Would someone laughing at my joke make me whole?
I could go on and on but the topper of the popper charts is the following.
I think it was 7th grade or maybe 8th. The class was divided in half and we were standing across from one another along the walls. Someone said something funny. And you know when you bust out a laugh but don't open your mouth? The laugh found a hole and inflated the most perfect large snot bubble in snot bubble history.
Almost no one noticed. Except for Peggy who laughed and told Ann and Kim. Even more horrifying when they called my Dad to ask him my middle name. Then sang "Gordon... Gordy..." Behind the backstop as I flailed and missed the big slow softball 3 times to lose the game with runners on base.
Peggy started liking Tim after the great snot bubble incident of 1974. My heart never recovered.
****
Who wants to hear a bank story?
I was at my 150 year old rural town bank yesterday ordering a million dong.
The 150 year old bank manager came out of his office, walked up to me and stated, "You have that exactly right."
I wish I had asked for further clarification but I took it to mean the Vietnamese dong is about to revalue.
****
Yesterday December 6 I turned 59. If you have seen me on a dating site okay busted I am not 49.
The best relationships start the lies as early as possible. I don't really have that too many girrrellls like me problem anymore.
Now to choose a video to illustrate this essay.
Now let me end this with my donation buttons but say... There are many people worse off than me. Due to the generosity of strangers I am basically okay. My December bills are paid. I have food. I have sn apartment and my car is still running. Yes I am broke until January but really my only true want is my laptop back to finish editing my new movie. My entire economic plan is paying Peter with EZPAWN's money and other fortunes of chance, welfare, kindness and maybe even appreciation. I like to think my creative offering earns a few ducets in the bucket but I also know others need it more. Donating to Patrick is always a good idea or do your Christmas shopping by clicking on the ads on his blog.
There is a Christmas party in Illinois I'd like to get to but not necessary. I made soup today and have beer. I am very blessed. And I have a good feeling about the reset this week.
https://youtu.be/v0NHfcBa7Ao
Venmo and cash app
TVKalmes@gmail.com
______________________________________________________
If you wish to contact the author of any reader submitted guest post, you can give us an email at UniversalOm432Hz@gmail.com and we'll forward your request to the author.
______________________________________________________
All articles, videos, and images posted on Dinar Chronicles were submitted by readers and/or handpicked by the site itself for informational and/or entertainment purposes.
Dinar Chronicles is not a registered investment adviser, broker dealer, banker or currency dealer and as such, no information on the website should be construed as investment advice. We do not support, represent or guarantee the completeness, truthfulness, accuracy, or reliability of any content or communications posted on this site. Information posted on this site may or may not be fictitious. We do not intend to and are not providing financial, legal, tax, political or any other advice to readers of this website.
Copyright © 2019 Dinar Chronicles
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