Mr. Magoo and the Bearded Lady

I'm so damn The current mood of augustdreams at www.imood.com

Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol! Who remembers that? Where did it go? Damn Communists. It's just not right that they no longer run that every year. Who is with me in a letter writing campaign to save Mr. Magoo? I haven't seen that particular Christmas special in far too long. I love the cheesy, 70's animation and Mr. Magoo's trademark squinting. Not to mentinon how hilarious it is to hear his voice saying "Well, they had better die then and decrease the surplus population!" I wish they'd bring it back.

I visited my friend Pat today. At one point, we were somehow related by marriage. She and the guy broke up but we've always been close. It cracks us up when we try and figure out exactly how we're related. It's some sort of cousin-type thing. Maybe once removed? We try to get together every Wednesday for hot chocolate and general silliness. Well, hot chocolate in the winter. In summer, we make root beer floats. She has cancer. Recently, she was concerned that one of the pain meds she's on will affect her liver as that's a common side affect of it's long term use. She asked her doctor about it. You know what this paragon of humanity said to her? "You're dying of cancer. Why are you worried about your liver?" Contemptible little shit. It's one thing to be honest with someone about their illness, but doctors have got no right to take away hope. And who the fuck is he to decide she's dying?

We laugh a lot when we're together. She said that I keep her laughing and she needs that. I'm so glad I can be there for her. I can't even think about losing her.

Speaking of laughter, it just hit me the other day that as far back as I can remember (around age 3, in case anyone was wondering), I haven't gone a single day without laughing. I think that's a big key to surviving life. My thoughts are all over the place today.

Since laughter is such a great healer, and good for the soul in general, I want to regale you with a tale of romance and facial hair. My friend Miles answered a personal ad and arranged to meet the woman at a local bar. She had a beard. I'm not talking about a few little hairs here and there or some peach fuzz. I mean a flat out, dark, FULL beard and moustache. Like a circus sideshow act. Neither of them mentioned it for the whole date. It must have hung in the air like a broccoli fart. The date ended and Miles told me he wasn't going to call her again. The beard freaked him out. The problem is that she kept calling him and talking about their "relationship" until he finally had to change his phone number.

The moral of the story: Beats the hell outta me. I suppose one moral could be: Be glad you're not Miles. Heh. Or maybe: Wax your face before you go on a big date.

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