Rebecca Arthur’s Blog

A sampling of the cacophony of voices inside this comic’s head
Photo of the Old Bat Herself

You added a picture of yourself?! What an Ego!!!

If you could get close enough to me…which is difficult at best…you’d see I’m adorned with the middle aged, single woman’s membership badge…cat hair.

My cat’s name is Puss, because when I named her I had writer’s block. I adopted her from an animal hospital, and they picked her out for me. She had been brought back twice because she doesn’t get along with more than one person at a time. So the animal hospital was looking for someone who lived alone…and inside of 30 seconds, they decided I’d be a pretty good bet.

Cats get a bad rap. Like they’re finicky. Okay, they turn their nose up at food from time to time…how would you feel if everything you ate was Ocean Flavored.
Dogs are much worse than cats. Dogs eat what cats bury…I rest my case. Yes, dogs aren’t finicky, but they’re like a $2 whore…they’ll eat anything.

Cats are pretty clean animals. ‘Course if you had an uncle who washed himself in his own spit everyday, he wouldn’t be thought of as clean, but somehow cats pull it off. And cats don’t usually leave droppings around, unless they’re sick or mad. My cat does that…if I don’t give her enough attention…I get a turd. Aren’t you glad people don’t communicate anger that way? Walk into your office one day and find a turd left by a co-worker. I guess it could be useful…you could tell the bad drivers by the number of turds on their hoods.

Puss likes me to chase her…so I can be seen running around my apartment saying “Where’s the Puss…Where’s the Puss…Where’s the Puss.” She likes to run under things I can’t get under…like the car port.

Car Care

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I try to take care of my car…’cause if you’re a comic like me, you figure you’re going to drive it forever. I just wish I could find someplace where they change the oil…and that’s all! No…instead they’re always selling something else…something vital that can’t wait…like…”well, Ms. Arthur, your oil and transmission fluid looks okay, but I’m afraid your glove compartment is really full…and you know those coins, bits of paper and lint, expired insurance papers and unpaid parking tickets have pretty well clogged it up. You might want us to take care of that because if we don’t and you have to stop fast, all those bits and pieces might fly out and injure you…and we don’t want you being buried with the imprint of a nickel on your forehead. Now we have a special today on our glove compartment contents reduction kit that will only cost $49.95 but considering the age of your vehicle you might want to consider adding the special glove compartment protective coating that will help keep the copper from the pennies from causing undue engine wear and contaminating the rest of the car’s body such that it passes through the steering wheel and into your skeletal structure causing you to look like Abraham Lincoln.

Tight Fit

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I drive a Honda Civic…and yes, it’s possible…admittedly it looks like one of those circus clown cars when I unfold out of it…it does startle people…I rear-ended a guy’s truck one time…it wasn’t my fault, I dropped my beer…anyway, he gets our all angry and ready give me a hard time, and I unfold out of the car…next instant, he looks like a Japanese in a Godzilla movie…terrified…”Ho! Godzilla”…anyway, so yes I can fit in a Civic, though it’s a tad snug. When I lived in LA I got my stereo stolen…I think that just goes with living in LA…its like a tax…every year or so you get your stereo stolen…I think one day you’ll just get a notice in the mail that its time to leave your car on the street so they can jack your stereo…but this year you have to get a smog check first…anyway so they stole the stereo and went through all my CDs…and didn’t steal a single one!!! That really sucks…bad enough they steal my stereo, but they have to insult my taste in music?! Kenny Loggins would be so disappointed…anyway, I get a new stereo, and it comes with a remote control…for my car stereo…the stereo in my car…how far from the dash do they think we are? I mean, when I’m in my Civic, if I turn up the A/C to high, I can change the radio channel with a nipple. Maybe it’s for car jackings…they stick you in the trunk, but you can still listen to your favorite channel…piss the thief off by continually turning back to the country channel. I’ve had a lot of trouble around cars…I once got in a fight with an auto mechanic because he said my car had an air bag and I thought he was referring to me…

Well, after I got dressed this morning I realized I had snakes on my feet. Creepy, huh? Indeed…creepy…creepy shoes that are made of fake snake skin, so I feel like I’m walking around with my feet buried in a couple of boa constrictors…and you know, as I wrote that last sentence, the creepiness increased exponentially…like Indiana Jones, “I hate snakes!”…and no, there really isn’t any other comparison between Indie and myself, apart from the fact that he quests after ancient relics and I, in fact, am myself, an ancient…well, never mind…but I digress…so how did I find myself adorned with the faux flesh of a slithering reptile? It all gets back to my giant stature…i.e. tall…and not as in my place in history, although several of the voices in my head are attempting to argue the point, even as I speak…er…write…no, as I’ve pointed out elsewhere in this blog, my physical height reaches biblical proportions…out distanced only by my grandiosity…and my feet, of course, go along with the total package…similar in the way you can’t hold up a 20 foot Christmas tree by nailing one foot boards to the bottom…no, you’ve got to put some BIG suckers…hence, my feet…and now that I think about it, nailing the base to a tree makes me think of shoeing a horse…which is probably a somewhat fair analogy itself…a big a$$ horse…so when it comes to finding shoes I cannot afford to be too picky…and when I do find shoes that fit…and are 50% off…I get them…even if there’s a good reason why they’re 50% off…because they’ve got a ton of them…because most people don’t want to walk around looking like they have snakes on their feet…especially in tall grass…look out! a rattler!!! Shoot it!!!…which makes me wonder why anyone would go to the trouble to take leather, and make it look like snake skin for shoes…taking the flesh of a fairly innocuous animal and making it look like a really creepy one…do they realize that some women will be stuck having to buy whatever shoes fit…cause “if the shoe fits…”…and they just want to screw with us…and not in the good way…few people want that…they can’t be sure we’ll let go until we’re finished… but just mess with our heads…but I realize that there are people of all kinds in this world…people that wear striped shirts with plaid pants…people that eat fried pork rinds…people that vote Republican…so I’m sure there are many people that think having snakes on their feet is cool…I, on the other hand, just try not to look down too often…hey, if I get the shoes wet will they be “water moccasins?”

I’ve been wrestling, of late, to find a way to blog about the Gulf Oil spill…“wrestling” is an interesting image isn’t it?…makes it sound like I’m all rough and tumble and sweaty over an issue, although this whole drilling disaster does make me want to “go rouge” and use a steel chair, or some other foreign object…wait, isn’t BP a foreign object?…and I’ve decided that it would be very appropriate to compare this entire debacle to the sinking of the Titanic…and not just because I’m a Titanic historical buff…so fixated with the story, I think, because it’s an accident the magnitude of which even I can only aspire…and certainly not as a comparison to the amount of human lives lost…although there has to be some consideration to the loss of the lives of birds, fish, dolphins, jellyfish…well, maybe not jellyfish…jellyfish piss me off…but because in both instances we have death by complacency…the Titanic tragedy could easily have been prevented, but the people in charge didn’t pay attention…didn’t think such a disaster was possible…made short-cuts in production, like not sealing the watertight compartments so that water couldn’t spill over and continue the flooding…not extending the double hull on the bottom up the sides of the ship…not utilizing the special davits that could carry enough lifeboats for everyone on board…as a cost saving measure…well, they did all that was “required”…sound familiar?…barreling full steam through the night in an area where icebergs had been spotted…a ship managed by a captain who, in his words, “”…cannot imagine any condition which would cause a ship to founder… cannot conceive of any vital disaster happening to this vessel…” A captain who knew icebergs were a danger, even steering a more southerly course in an attempt to avoid them…but still, would not take the simple, prudent step of reducing the ship’s speed…in summary, a disaster brought on by sacrificing safety for profit…taking unnecessary risks; the result of naive thinking that the worst could not happen…so we’ve seen the consequences of environmentally running with scissors…because that’s what’s happened…Mom told us what could happen, but we did it anyway, “You could put an eye out!!” and now LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE…and we’re getting our proverbial noses shoved in it…but will we learn? I think not…1912 was too long ago…each generation seems to have to learn its own lesson…did Vietnam keep us out of Iraq?…the last comparison I would make is between Bruce Ismay and BP CEO Tony Hayward…they both got to return to Britain…one because he took a lifeboat and left so many passengers to their fate…the other because…well…he’s a fool…at least Captain Smith went down with the ship…I rather wish I could draw a comparison there…

Recently, I’ve been taking steps to enhance my spiritual growth…as though that were possible…wasn’t that an amazing comment?…sounding all mature and such and then dashing the image with a self effacing comment geared to further my image as a self-serving egotist…I stand in awe of my sickness…but I digress…anyway, I’ve begun seriously practicing meditation, as though there was a frivolous way to practice meditation…of course, if there were, I would have tried it…and being new to all this, I attended Thursday’s lesson on Loving Kindness Meditation at the local Insight Mediitation Center…which frankly is a little like Charles Manson taking a course on sociology…or Jeffrey Dahmer attending Culinary Arts 101…as you may have noticed, I am prone to make rather grandiose comparisons of myself with images that stretch my personal flaws all out of shape, so just be aware…Actually, I should probably back up a bit…I’ve been dutifully meditating for several months now…dare I say religiously…20 minutes a day, twice a day…and I decided it would be interesting to attend the Insight Meditation Center, because…you know…those people might need my help…since I’ve obviously reached Nirvana with my 40 minute daily meditation practice…NOT!!!…So I attended my first “sitting” last Sunday, and as is my practice, I did not pay attention to the schedule shown on the web site…because “fore warned is fore…whatever”…so I didn’t know that the “sitting”…I put that in quotes because I think that’s a weird word to use, even though it is obviously very descriptive of what we are doing…sitting…but it seems like it would be better called “mediation”…that way we would be describing what we’re doing with our heads…rather than what we’re doing with our butts…but I digress…again…so I got to the Center a little before 8:30 am, blissfully…how appropriate is that?…unaware that the lesson would not start until 10:00…I did a TON of “sitting”…I was SO F’ING PRESENT!!!…actually, I liked it a great deal…especially all the silence…coming to a religious service…if it could be called that…and not having to introduce myself to anyone…or have to wear a badge that says, “Hi, I’m new…my name is Rebecca…please hassle me”…priceless…so now we’re back to the Loving Kindness Meditation session…did I mention Manson and Dahmer?…yes?…okay…I am very aware that my heart needs to be more open…much like a dank, dusty closet filled with used sweat socks needs to be aired out…so I think this practice is very good for me…and actually, I have very little trouble wishing happiness, safety, health, and ease for people I deemed to have wronged me…which includes a generous portion of the world population…my ego is so big that I think even people who don’t know me, by that very fact have, indeed, wronged me…because everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, should know ME!!!…and no, not in the biblical sense…I’m not THAT cruel…but I know that if someone is truly happy, safe, healthy, and at ease…they’ll leave me the f’ alone…so once again, my benevolent thoughts towards others becomes self-serving…Rebecca! Your ego is AWESOME!!!

Having recently spewed my thoughts about relationships, based on a complete lack of knowledge, it seems appropriate to turn my attention to “Love,” a subject that equally confounds me…Of course, that doesn’t stop me from feeling it, even if I don’t know what it is…I guess “I know it when I see it,” a phrase, interestingly enough, used by the Supreme Court in its attempt to define pornography…which means, of course, that Justice Potter Stewart, who included the phrase in his opinion, had some experience in “seeing” pornography…guess he had something in common with the current Justice Clarence “Long Dong Silver” Thomas…but I digress…anyway, I have experienced feelings of late which could be described as “love”…rather intense feelings, actually…which sucks…because I don’t really know what to do with feelings like “Love”…Hate?…Anger?…those I can deal with…I have tools…I can remove, for example, my anger with Rush Limbaugh, by praying for him to have what I would want for myself…like bigger breasts…but “Love?”…how do I get rid of that?…do I really want to?…I guess it helps in that the object of my attention is completely unavailable…and yes, it occurred to me that this may be one of the motivators of the attraction…you can’t be rejected by someone who was never there…but when I think about Love, I’m left with a conundrum…if you really LOVE someone, you want what’s best for them…and I can’t imagine that a relationship with me would be best for anyone…or anything for that matter…I don’t even think my relationship with myself is best for me…frankly, I wish I could break up with myself…I mean I’ve tried…I’ve dropped hints…like the time a threw all my clothes out the front door…did I get the message?…no…I just went out and gathered them all up…’course, I didn’t talk to myself for a week…which in retrospect is probably the most sane behavior I’ve exhibited for some time…fortunately, there hasn’t been any violence…god forbid I should have to call the police on myself…although that would make for a great “Cops” episode…the police would sound like an older sibling saying, “Stop hitting yourself!”…Well, I don’t think there’s any conclusion that can be drawn from this blog entry…the only saving factor is that once again…I have succeeded in focusing completely on myself…but in my life, what else is there?

Since I have absolutely zero knowledge about relationships…especially in the area of sex…I feel well qualified to discuss it…much in the same way Sarah Palin is well qualified to render her wisdom in matters of the environment…anyone heard her saying “Drill, baby, drill” recently?…or can she see the Gulf oil slick from her house…but I digress…so, someone asked me the other day if I was a lesbian…which is a step up for me…Usually, I am more likely to be asked if I’m a drag queen…because of my size, which has been known to prompt parents to take their small children off the street…and my voice, which to me sounds like I gargled Drano……actually, people don’t generally ask…most people don’t have the courage to pose a question like that, at least not to someone who looks like she could fold them up and fit them in her purse. The original question got me thinking, however…a dangerous endeavor that I try to avoid, rather skillfully, most of the time…see I have more in common with the Tea Party movement than you thought!…and I believe I’m more Bi-Sexual…but not “Bi” as in two…“Bye” as in “so long, sex life”…Frankly, I haven’t come across…heh, heh…she said “come”…I haven’t found many people who “want what I have,” unless I find a really good parking spot near the mall the weekend before Christmas…but that’s not a complaint, because frankly, with the emotional baggage I carry around, if someone WAS interested, I’d be like the proverbial dog that once catching a car doesn’t have a clue what to do with it…Still, it would be nice if someone was interested…you see, I don’t really think I want anyone…I just want them to want me…which is why the vast majority of my sex relations are selfish…well, they have to be…I’m usually the only one there…occasionally faking orgasm so I don’t disappoint myself…

Now that I’m…well…older, I’m starting to think that plastic surgery isn’t such a bad idea…although even the name make makes it seem scary…plastic…that’s what it usually winds up looking like…you look like your face got laminated…which gets really creepy when the rest of your body falls apart…like this woman I talked to once…just once…thankfully…and she had smooth skin on her face…a fixed joker smile…and hands that looked like they were covered in very cheap, very worn naugahyde,,,Now the smooth skin I guess they tighten…but what’s with the Botox…I hear it paralyzes muscles in the face and thereby…somehow…removes wrinkles…how does that work?…my muscles aren’t wrinkled…well, they’re practically non-existent to tell the truth…so how does paralyzing them smooth out the skin on top…actually, just getting the bill would probably paralyze me with fear…so would my whole body be smooth then?…somebody told me how much she paid for the treatments…I told her that if she’d just give me five dollars, I’d have snake bite her on the face…cut out the middle man…note I didn’t call her my friend…what really, really creeps me out are those lip implants…the ones that look like someone bent an inner tube in half and crammed it in their mouth…now that is SEXY…you don’t want to get near lips like those…lips like those latch on and don’t let go…it’d be like kissing a bathroom plunger…but all this finally gets to my Mr. Potato Head idea…for those of you too young to have experienced the magic of the Mr. Potato Head in days of old…when we used to huddle together in caves for protection…you used a real potato, and stuck various body parts…eyes, nose, ears, mouth, legs, etc…into the potato…and then you bake it…well, you’re not really supposed to bake it…that gets you grounded and seeing a psychiatrist before you’re 12…or so I am told…anyway, if I was God…besides the fact the fact that life as we know it would no longer exist…I’d make us all like Mr. Potato Heads…then we could exchange body parts…”Hey, I like your ears…wanna swap?”…”I think I’ll try the blue eyes today”…”I’ve got a date tonight…did I say I’d be a man or a woman”…’course it would make for some really interesting crimes…and the threat “I’ve got your nose!!!” would have to be taken much more seriously…did I start off by saying plastic surgery wasn’t such a bad idea?…

Heard on the news that they did a survey of Tea Party members…the people in the party…not their members…and apparently, they differ from most Americans in that they are generally more affluent…got to have money for all that poster board, lynching ropes, and tickets to right-wing rallies…“Dude! I just scored Sarah Palin tickets! Awesome!!”…as he tokes on a fat cigar dusted with Rush Limbaugh’s oxycotton…Tea Partiers are also older…well, so much for the wisdom of the ancients…and better educated…really…how can this be?…’course we just experienced having a graduate of Harvard who was lucky if he could stick his tooth brush in the right hole…so we know it is possible to get an education and not get an education at the same time…which seems like a bit of an Alice in Wonderland conundrum. Maybe one explanation is that the Tea Party clan…yes, Klan…filled out the survey themselves, and figured they should count all the hours they spent in line at the grocery store, waiting to buy their grits and hog fat in 55 gallon drums, reading the Star or the National Enquirer, and “did you know that Tiger Woods gave birth to Michael Jackson’s love child while space aliens gave him an anal probe”…they might think that’s an education…at least as much of one as watching Glen Beck tell you how “Barrack Obama joined a cult that worships Yugoslavian socialist mountain goats and he’s going to be under your bed tonight…yes, tonight…so hide under those covers, and let me diagram it on the blackboard for you because even though everything I’m telling you is total BS, if I put it on the blackboard, all those years you spent in third grade will make you think it’s a fact because its on a blackboard, Damn It!”..The educational equivalent of Pavlov’s dog…No, I’m sorry…better educated? I think that says more about our education system than it does about any member of the Tea Party having an intellect even slightly higher that a tree sloth…But if we wanted to provide more quality education to our children that would mean more taxes…“And we don’t want more TAXES, by GUM!!!!”…very depressing…maybe they don’t want better educated folks…then they might get some real competition at the Bingo hall… “B??? Where’s the B…What’s a B…4???…that’s a number right?”…well, it would make for longer games, which might keep them off the street…you know they drive back from those rallies…anyone want to risk life and/or limb driving while all those old folks are making right turns from the left hand lane, with their turn signals running for hours…and hours…and hours…my head hurts…