Krispey Kreme crème-filled donuts, two days old and stolen from the college cafeteria.
Falling asleep in my clothes when I’m not even all that tired.
The taste of Dimatapp. It was “purple,” not grape.
(As an aside, I could never understand why adults expected me to like the taste of bubblegum. Bubblegum was fine as bubblegum, but as ice cream? The mere thought made me want to hurt.)
Stealing the fat historical romances my mom kept “hidden” under her bed and hunting until I found a purple-prose sex scene. Or two. Or three. Depending on the author, obviously.
Anne Rice novels. I thought Interview with the Vampire and The Vampire Lestat were both crap, but I loooooooved Queen of the Damned.
Every single season of Bones.
Throwing “cunt” into a conversation just because I knew it would shock people. (“I didn’t even know you knew that word!”)
Watching my cat drink out of the toilet, because he’s so huge that he can do it with his hind legs on the floor. I know I should stop him, but I’m too busy laughing BECAUSE HE’S A DOG.
Hiding things from my mother between my box spring and my mattress, even though I knew there was always the danger she’d come to flip my mattress and find my dirty novel stash.
Walking across the wood floors in my house with my shoes still on because I know it kills the Boyfriend’s soul.
Fishing for minnows in the drainage ditch behind my house as a child.
Falling asleep in the middle of my own birthday party.
Knowing that my cat brought a live mouse into my parents’ home just to fuck with them.
Playing the romance novel game. The game is that you go into the romance section in any bookstore, and each person grabs a novel at random and opens it at random. You then read aloud the first line that catches your eye. Inevitably, the more open-minded people wind up reading sentences like, “He strode angrily across the moor,” and the more uptight folks in the bunch have to stumble through, “He stroked his member, aching with need, pumping it until his seed spilled forth onto the cold ground.” NEVER STOPS BEING FUNNY. Or embarrassing!
Drinking so much Coke Zero that the aspartame permanently altered my DNA.
Saving all of my old prescription bottles on one of the bookshelves in the dining room, so that when people come over they always give me weird glances because it looks like I have a serious drug problem.
Watching All My Children on a daily basis.
Leaving all the dishes in the dish rack, because I’m an adult and no one can make me empty it.
Showing up at a friend’s house with chocolate cake and booze and being met with an impassioned, “Deb, you are the BEST BOYFRIEND I’VE EVER HAD.”
Sneaking Oliver into the bedroom so that we can fall asleep beside each other before the Boyfriend comes and kicks him out.
What shameful things have you enjoyed?
using my credit card to purchase a McFlurry – oreo never M&M. bankruptcy could never stand in between me and the frozen product resembling ice cream with cookies somewhat swirled in it.
Dude. There is no shame in that. You need ice cream MOST when you’re poor.
Your cat one is my favorite, but I’m biased. Also, replace Bones with anything Gina Torres or Nathan Fillion have ever been in, regardless of quality.
Shameful enjoyment? pfft. all pleasure, no shame.
Loving your blog ! Your humour is delightful.
Thank you!
Can I bitch about “Bones” for a second? (As background, I have watched every episode ever. And will continue to do so.) She’s a (forensic) anthropologist – yet cannot grasp the basics of human interactions. ‘Wha – why are the next of kin upset when I talk about their loved one as a mutilated corpse? It’s so illogical!” She talks about rituals practiced by random tribes, yet is socially a total DUNCE. She’s such a smart cookie, but can.not.learn.our.human.ways.
Yeah, she can rattle off the burial rites of the IGBNAIOPALISLAJMNn, but doesn’t get how the same situations might apply in her own culture. It is…not exactly with the sense-making. But then, the whole show is on crack, so I just kind of let it slide.
Btw, I love it and will never, EVER stop watching it.
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