“So, what did you do on your vacation?” Every time you drag your ass back to work after a week off, that’s the question you get. It wouldn’t be so bad if everyone didn’t feel free to judge you by your answer. If you tell them you just stayed home all week and sorted lint, they look at you with pity for a moment, say “Oh, that’s too bad,” and walk away with a look that confirms your position of Loser in their mind. If you say instead that you’ve been on a great adventure involving distant lands, high priced assassins and mind-blowing sex, they say “Sounds fun. I took my kids to Six Flags last year and it was great! We had corndogs.” You’re almost better off being branded a loser. No matter what, nobody really wants to hear what you did while you weren’t working. The only reason they ask is because they want you to know that they’d noticed you were gone during a time when they still had to work. They want you to feel bad that you had a break from the work-a-day tedium while they continued to play the drone. If they had the chance, they wouldn’t rain on your parade, they’d shit on it. But don’t pay any attention to those killjoy trolls. When you get a vacation, savor the time. When it’s over, savor the memories. And if you happen to have a podcast, gloat like hell.
Speaking of torment in the workplace, this week’s Bad Movie Review is The Mangler (1995). Ostensibly, this is a horror movie, but it may well end up making you thankful you don’t live out your days in a grimy sweat shop. Ted Lavine mumbles and lurches through this movie as our cranky hero, often followed by his hippie brother-in-law that looks like Doug Henning after some dental work. They have to fight against a demon possessed laundry press and it’s evil master played by Robert Englund, who does a damn fine Penguin impersonation throughout the film. It seems that in order to get anywhere in life, you have to sacrifice virgins to Satanic powers. No one said a damn thing about that in my MBA program. But you can see how the blood of the unfucked can get you ahead by watching this Pretty Good Unintentionally Bad Movie. Or you can just laugh at a guy beating the shit out of an icebox.
Housewives, beware! Countless women are blown up every years by washing their clothes in pans of gasoline. No, seriously. This was a real thing. Please become baffled by this week’s educational short: More Dangerous Than Dynamite (1941).
From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: In honor of Mother’s Day, here’s the postcard I’d have sent to my mother if I’d had a stamp. Seriously. I didn’t have one. Shucks.
Bonus postcard! One of the many beauties I picked up when Luka and I raided the antique stores. Complete with 1907 postmark and inane good wishes. Classic shit like this beats texting any day.
