How are you today? a woman asks me
at the Y.
I don't know, I say. How are you?
Blessed, she says. I am just so blessed
except for this dab blasted weather.
Dab blasted?
Dab blasted.
Oh, I think that's how I am. Dab-blasted.
The Managed Heart: Emotional Labor and the Psychological Cost of Ambivalence
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What are you unwilling to feel? This is one of the most brutal, most
clarifying questions in life, answering which requires great courage and
great vulnera...
19 hours ago
2 comments:
Know what you mean, Nin. Dab-blast and Double Dab-Blast! I'd been going nuts with crooked-number-codger cabin fever after dislocating a somewhat esssential bone in my foot, finally went off and did something that seemed like a good idea at the time -- rowing machine -- pleasant young Indian woman set the controls for me, all seemed good until... I dislocated my right hip.
But back to topic. As we're in a mood to bite the heads off frozen rubber frogs at the moment (all the rubber frogs out back have grown enormous this winter, just another symptom of the great Global Climacteric), Let's name a few names here. I mean, dang!
Wesley Willis: Double Dab-Blasted Shitheads
That is great! I love that double dab-blasted song And I am sorry about your hip! I have had similar experiences, trying to recover from what was supposed to be a simple knee operation. First the PT made it worse, and well, so on. That's really awful about the hip--triple dab-blasted.
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