This is a mental health/mental illness blog dealing with daily life with words that are real and raw, video, pics, and music chosen by one fucked-up kitty. I am diagnosed Bipolar, with (crippling) Anxiety Disorder, and seriously horrific PTSD.
Sometimes it's a real treat of Freedom of Speech and Crazy to let it out, and scream something out in public when you just lose it, and let the stress out of your sails in one quick go, unlike the "unlucky" majority. Nope. Can't say everything is bad 100% of the time. Now take your meds and get ready...

This blog is permanently under construction/destruction.

Sunday, March 2, 2014

Lost In Translation

Santa Claus & His Old Lady - Cheech & Chong
Listen and laugh!

One thing that I actually was listening to with both my earplugs in was Cheech & Chong's "Santa Claus and His Old Lady", a recording that I remember hearing way back when, sometime during childhood. It was one of the only good memories that I could ever scrape up, not that I try, but I had to listen to the video on FB and go with it. I was laughing my ass off, then I realized I was doing it in front of the spouse, and that he may be missing out on something that he might think was funny too. So, I pulled out the plugs and asked him if he liked Cheech & Chong. He flat out said "No," with the least bit of interest, and didn't even make eye contact.

I was kinda crushed, because this was something I loved since I was a kid, remembering that I never believed in any santa claus, and that this crazy comedy recording could still make me laugh my ass off after all these years.

Lost in translation. 

He is from the UK.

Later I remember listening to an old Chris Rock special and an old George Lopez special stand-up comedy gigs on HBO. Again, I was laughing my ass off, pulled out the plugs, and asked the spouse if he liked these guys. Another flat "no". But they are so fucking funny! I didn't wanna do no splainin' Lucy, I thought to myself. It was then that I realized he wouldn't even get this song.

Lost in translation.

Flashback to years ago when I was in England with him and I rented a hilarious movie, "Pootie Tang". We both watched it, I laughed my ass off, and he was silent as a clam on the bottom of the ocean.

Lost in translation. 

I miss laughing. I miss shared laughter.

Well, at least he can appreciate some Robert Rodriguez movies and stuff. I don't know. Who doesn't love Danny Trejo by now? 

He sure doesn't appreciate all the love and work that is put into making Mexican food. That's disappointing. Some of you ladies out there know what I'm talking about. That's why I don't cook it anymore. Shame that even food can get lost in translation. 

Damn! Now I'm thinking about that little shop downtown that secretly sells homemade tamales... and I'm missing the pastries, the sweet bread like the pigs. :)


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