HappySad Snowman

My Enemy, My Friend

2009-02-20T09:42:00.001-08:00

I'm worried!

My Enemy, who is also my friend, is nowhere to be found! Alarm and dismay?
Did he go to a strip club last night? And did he go home with a dancer named Saffron who reminded him of his mother? Except for the glass eye? And did she leave him tied to the bed with mayonaise spread on his chest while she took off with his wallet and his car and headed back to her no-good pimp boyfriend in Pahrump with a quart of NyQuil in her stomach and a tear in her one good eye?

I'm afraid maybe so...

While you were sleeping...

2009-01-28T06:36:00.000-08:00

Here is a story that has both sad parts and happy parts...

While Cecil was sleeping, I was thinking. I don't sleep much because I can't close my eyes because my eyes are just dots drawn on with a Sharpie.

I was thinking it's Not Fair that Cecil and Garv Ballooon Clown have to earn all the money for our little family. No, Not Fair At All. So when I heard on the radio that a talent agency was looking for models, I thought, Great! Here's my chance to contribute!

So I went down there to audition for an infomercial. I wanted to get the part of the Gorgeous Blonde Lady that helps Fast Talking Man sell stuff. I really wanted that part! the part I was born to play, I think...

So when my turn came, I looked right in the camera and gave a big big big smile and said "Please explain me how is this cook pot working!" Then I turned slightly to show my cleavage to its best advantage.

Well, I didn't get the part. That's the sad part of the story. I went back home to the shopping cart under the viaduct and Cecil the Talking Mime was still sleeping. As I snuggled back up into his elbow, I reflected on my showbiz carreer, and what a fickle wretched business it is. After being chewed up and spit out by the machine, with all the best years of my life stolen in the name of that gauzy film called Fame, I was lucky to be alive...all things considered...

Later, Cecil let me hold his cigarette while he threw up in the gutter. That's the happy part of the story.

News!

2009-01-19T12:02:00.000-08:00

I just read the craziest thing in the news!

Listen to this...

"Disgruntled Tenant Trashes Rental Before Eviction
Washington DC - Municipal housing authorities report that a local man destroyed the interior of the home he was occupying with his family, allegedly because he was upset at losing his lease on the property. The home, located at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, was left in an unlivable condition and may need to be condemned, according to Housing Commissioner Max Durbish. "I can't believe the mess," Durbish said. "There's piles of empty Natural Light cans in the Briefing room, dog crap under the executive desk, and I don't even want to talk about the bathrooms. Apparently he's been wiping his ass with the Constitution."

The tenant, whose term of occupancy ends tomorrow, is required by DC law to turn over the property in good condition, but instead left behind several illegible spray-painted messages on the walls of the Oval Office and some unidentifiable stains in the Lincoln Bedroom. In addition, he used a Sharpie to draw mustaches on all the portraits of former residents, except for those who were already bearded. In those cases, he removed their beards with White-Out.

"I knew they was no good when they moved in," said neighbor Frank Pfister. "Them and that no-good hick from Wyoming. Damn hillbillies brought down the whole neighborhood."

The Tenant, who authorities have not identified, was last seen wandering around the outside of the home, drinking Jim Beam from the bottle and muttering something about a hidden key. "Throw me outa my own goddam house...goddamit!" he reportedly said before falling to his knees and throwing up in the Rose Garden.

It is unknown at this time if the tenant has legal representation."

Wow! What a story! I didn't know people could act that way, did you?

Makes you think...

Shhhh...

2009-01-16T17:31:00.001-08:00

Hello. I'm very quiet now, because Cecil the Talking Mime is sleeping.
Isn't that cute? He snuffles while he sleeps.

Sleep, silent angel!

Shh...

Don't spill that bottle of Thunderbird

Cardboard

2009-01-09T14:57:00.000-08:00

We traveled for blocks and blocks and blocks. Some white stuff fell out of the sky on us. I don't know what it was. I hope it wasn't radioactive fallout. I hope it wasn't any kind of fallout at all, but mostly I hoped for not radioactive.

Later we were in a cave and someone else was there, too.

There was an argument about coardboard or something.

I'm not sure, I couldn't hear properly...

http://cecilthetalkingmime.blogspot.com

The road; being on it

2009-01-08T12:52:00.000-08:00

Well, Christmas is over. All twelve days of it. Some monks celebrate Christmas all the way into February, but I'm not a monk. I'm also not a monkey, although some monkeys are made of socks, just like me! I'm related to monkeys!

Guess what? I'm gone! Not just a little bit gone, but Real Gone with a capital RG. When the other decorations come back to the box they'll find a little snowman shaped space where I used to be, and that space will be empty.

Christmas ending always makes me a little sad. Also a litle bit happy. A lot of things are like that. My new friend says being with me is like taking a one-way bus to Ambivilania. That's funny...

I have new friends! Yay! I ran away from Mystery Murderer, who is also my friend, only to find new friends, who may also turn out to be my enemies. Balance...always strive for balance...

One new friend is Cecil the Talking Mime. He's the one who said that thing about the bus. He likes buses; in fact, I met him under a bus while I was looking for a piece of gum and he was sleeping or something. I'm not sure what it was he was doing; it was dark. Maybe he was trapped in an invisible box. I like the dark. I may have mentioned that already...

...anyway, Cecil is my new friend and now we're on the road together, running away from our personal demons and chasing our dreams. Actually, he does the running and I just ride along in his shopping basket...I can't run 'cause I don't have feet. Socks, but no feet...

...that's funny.

XOXOX

HappySad Snowman, RG

I like the darkness

2008-12-18T10:15:00.000-08:00

You know how when you close your eyes you can see blobs of light moving around? Close your eyes now, go ahead. See them? Aren't they lovely? Mine are purple and green and they flow around in the blackness. It's like being inside a lava lamp.

The best part is, if you're in the dark, you can actually see them with your eyes open! This works out great for me because I don't have eyelids, just lumps of coal. Not real coal, though. So I can lay here in the dark and stare up and watch my lovely purple blobs dancing over my head. Or maybe I'm laying on my tummy and staring face-down at the bottom of the drawer watchin the blobs flow down in the abyss.

(...please...please...all the other Christmas decorations are gone...why am I so alone...?...)

Another thing that's cool about these blobby light flowing things is that they look like something you see just normally, with both eyes, like a bird or a candy bar. But if they are (as I assume) the result of residual neural energy in the retina or optic nerve, wouldn't you see different blobs in each eye? Why would random nerve-noise be the same for both eyes at the same time? Hmmm? The best part about this theory is it can't be tested by opening one eye and then the other, because you can only see them with your eyes shut! As soon as you open one eye they disappear!

And of course I can't test it at all because, as I think I mentioned, I don't have eyelids. Just lumps of...well, they're black dots drawn with a Sharpie. Lookin' sharp! Get it?

(...please.......)

...tired...so tired...

2008-12-16T11:13:00.000-08:00

One might think that I would get plenty of sleep, here in the cozy cramped darkness of my secret locked drawer, but one would be wrong. The truth is, I can't sleep...can't even snooze...

I'm so worried about my Mystery Murderer! It keeps me up all night. Or maybe all day; I can't tell, it's dark in here. Imagine how my Mystery Murderer must be suffering! Eating himself up inside, poisoned with hate! Just like Scrooge in "A Christmas Carol," the good one, with Michael Caine and Kermit the Frog.

Hey! Remember Plato, that Greek guy? Remember how he said Man's perception of reality was like a guy in a cave watching shadows on the wall when the real world was going on outside in 3D and full color? Remember that? That's me! I'm like that guy except I'm in a drawer and I'm made of socks. And love. Socks and love, that's me...

That does it! I feel I must leave! Not that I don't enjoy being a modern example of a ancient-yet-still-relevant philosophical metaphor...and believe you me I do...no, I feel my destiny lies outside the drawer. Deep in my beanbag-like heart I know I must come out! I must excape! I can no longer leave Mystery Murderer festering in the putrid contents of his rancid bowels!

Hmm... a question: will I simply submit to his dark and violent whims (giggle)? or will I go undergound and give him the bitter satisfaction of futilely trying to hunt me down (as opposed to the bitter satisfaction of his current rancid bowel festering...)

don't know yet...

...haven't decided

Mystery Murderer

2008-12-11T08:09:00.000-08:00

You know how some people have a "secret admirer" or "a secret Santa" or a "mystery shopper" or a "panel of judges" or a "mother-in-law"? Well, I have a "mystery murderer." Lucky me! Someone wants to kill me, not just a little bit, but really a lot! Really a lot killed! Who knew I could have so much influence on someone's psyche? Not me, for sure, I sure didn't know, but there it is, and here we are...

After all, I'm just a humble snowman made of socks, or a snowman shaped like a sock, or a sock shaped like a snowman, and I'm happy and sad; it makes me happy to be sad and sad to be happy, just like Morrisey.

Dear Killer in Prison, I saw you through the crack in my drawer when you came looking for me. I could see your knees. They're cute! You have cute knees...

Have I already waited too long?

HappySad Curious?

2008-12-10T07:42:00.000-08:00

See, it's like this...

I'm afraid to come out because someone has threatened my life.
What did I ever do to this person to elicit such feelings?
Why you gotta be such a hater? Such a HappySad Hater?

I'm severely distressed, peeking out of the tiny space over the top of the locked drawer at the outside world, knowing I have special joy to spread that may never be spread at all...it makes me cry a little bit, like at the end of "Beaches."

Should I put my personal safety aside and emerge to commence my special joyspreading?
Or do I remain hidden in the locked dark, keeping my special joy to my secret self like...like some secret special dark thing.

Please, Bette Middler, you're the candle in the wind beneath my wings! Show me the way

XOXOX
HSS

Gosh, it's dark...

2008-12-09T14:43:00.000-08:00

I've been sitting at the back of the bottom of a locked drawer for almost a year, just waiting for my chance to come out and spread the special joy that only I can spread.

Is that fair? I don't know...

Don't step in the special joy! Look out! You got some special joy on your shoe...