Bitter Scariness

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Noooo! Not World Vegetarians Day!!!

Noooo! Not World Vegetarians Day!!!

This is the time of year I dread.  People are dressed up in costumes, offices are doing their best to immitate living in an overgrown batcave, and worst of all people are being encouraged to eat differently than other times of the year.  That’s right, October is the month we celebrate World Vegetarian’s Day(at least you do). It was a nightmare trying to find a good hamburger that day with all the vegetarians out, giving me semi-passive aggressive stares as I entered Burger King. You can breathe a sigh of relief though, as I made it through the drive through without being mobbed by really hungry, yet in shape vegetarians.  Thank goodness that bitter holiday passed, so we can now concentrate on less scary holidays like Halloween.  Every year, World Vegetarian Day is a scary day for me, but it helps me reflect on things that bring bitter shivers down my spine.

I don't care how many wands you point at me. I still demand you change your name to Harold.

I don’t care how many wands you point at me. I still demand you change your name to Harold.

Hair.  I got a hair in my food.  If there is anything in this world that causes a delicious one pound burger to go in the trash, it is a hair.  If I was a superbitter villain like I always dreamed of becoming, hair would be my kryptonite.  I can’t sit behind someone that has a sweater with a loose hair clinging to it and not reach out and pull that hair off, stomp it into the ground and burn it fast enough.  Hair should be banned from being anywhere near food, my face, my nose, or my back.  I am going to march on Washington and protest in front of Congress until they ban hair from being anywhere near me.  No wonder people are so afraid of Sasquatch.  Have you seen his mane? Hair is so scary, that I don’t think anyone should even to be allowed to have the name Harry.  You are on notice, J.K. Rowling.  If you don’t rename your book Harold Potter, I am not going to read the books for the seventh time, or watch the Harold Potter Marathon again this weekend.

The one stair felt like this.

The one stair felt like this.

Stairs.  I had to walk up one yesterday and it was terrifying.  I was short of breath, my knees were aching, and my face was flushed from having to make the sudden change in elevation.  Remember when Ace Ventura of Ace Ventura When Nature Calls, was climbing the rope between two mountains? Remember the terror and dizziness you felt when you there with him on the rope, knowing that one slip would cause you imminent doom?  This was nothing like that.  It was way worse.  The whole time I was climbing the stair I kept thinking, what if I fall? How humiliating would that have been for me in front of no one because my wife and kids were asleep and it was dark, but that would have been really scary if it had caused them to stir a little bit.  How about if I had snagged a toe nail? Or spilled water all over the carpet?  Yes, a complete nightmare.

Don't ever leave me.

Don’t ever leave me.

Bread.  The most essential thing in my life, as shown by the physical I got at my doctor’s once.  He broke down my mass into it’s essential elements and I was 5% water and 95% bread. If bread all of sudden disappered from the face of the earth, I would quickly and painfully shrink into a tiny few drops of water.  I know that will never happen, because that would be the end of days.  Rioting would start.  First at grocery stores, then at 7-11, then at the discount day old bread stores.  One time I had a nightmare that when I went to make my sandwiches of the day, we only had three pieces left.  I woke up in cold sweats, ran to the kitchen, realized there was a whole loaf left, and breathed a sigh of relief.

I won't ever leave you.

I won’t ever leave you.

My couch. One time I got up from my couch to go get a sandwich and when I stood up I couldn’t feel my legs.  I started freaking out, but as a Certified Lazyman, I didn’t panic.  I took a deep breath, realized what I had done and spoke to myself.  “Don’t panic, me, just remember your training.  Remember that you are supposed to breathe, remain calm, talk to yourself like a crazy man, and what was the next step?”  I forgot, started to panic, started hyperventalating and fell to the ground.  “Get a grip, me! What was the acronym for this? BRCTTYLACMLBD! Right! Okay, so Breath, Remain Calm, Talk To Yourself Like A Crazy Man and LBD, what was that again? OH YEAH, Lay Back Down!”  I remembered my training!  I reached out my arm and with the outstreched tip of my finger, grabbed a part of the couch.  I pulled myself toward it, and with the last of my strength did a twist move you only see in Olympic high diving or the Matrix.  I landed perfectly on my back, and comfort was restored. I know that I will never be able to replicate that move again, but for me, in that moment, I know I needed it.  And because of it, I was able to overcome the scariness of being away from my couch.

Most of you will never have to encounter such scary things in your life.  I actually WOULD wish these things on my Bitterest Enemies.  And possibly my Bitter Friends too.  The lesson here is that they can be overcome, but not by you.  Only me.  Overcome your own scariness.  Or don’t.  I don’t really care.

Arrrrgggghhhhh

Bitter “Scary” Ben

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147 thoughts on “Bitter Scariness”

  1. Pingback: Bitter Things that Won’t Go Away | Ben's Bitter Blog

  2. Pingback: Exercise Bitterness | Ben's Bitter Blog

  3. thanks, ben, for this refreshingly terrifying post. if you’re afraid of hair, you might want to move to korea, where body hair is much prevalent than it is in the west, although most young korean women have long hair (which I happen to like–sorry). i know what you mean about trying to leave the couch–dangerous! thanks also for liking my most recent blog piece. i hope you find my work as entertaining as i do yours.

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  5. Pingback: If you missed bitterness this week, your aim was a little off | Ben's Bitter Blog

  9. After I finally stop laughing at the picture of Nicholas Cage, perhaps I will get something done this morning. Haha. I would like to point out that it probably isn’t a good idea to tell the world what your kryptonite is, so soon after becoming a member of a super-evil organization. Heroes and good guys could be reading too, you know. And other villains, who will most certainly exploit your weaknesses and fears against you (and be encouraged to do so).

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  10. Alll thaat ggrreeatt stufff tto ccoommment oon and thee kkeybbooard is actingg upp.. how bitter iss that!!! stooopud ccommpuuter.. veery bbiiteeer nnow. muustt geet oofff ccouch to geet bbreaaad, maayoo annnd chilii cheesee dog…arrggghhhh….seee thaat ccame out perfecltty! Arrrgghhhh….

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  12. Bitterly friggin hilarious and I’m with you on the ‘hair’, ewwwwwww, it has happened. I could be absolutely starving and first bite, if I find a hair, it’s over, done, kaput, total loss of appetite, even if it’s my own! A bitter way to diet!

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  16. I now understand the alarmingly non-bitter tone of your comment on my blog earlier. You’d apparently poured all your bitterness into this. And understandably…hair? Seriously, disgusting.

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  19. Isn’t it bizarre how hair, one of the prettiest features of many people, becomes disgusting if it in food. He inverse is true, appealing food looks gross in hair. Pizza cheese that drips into a beard, for example.

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  20. I can tell you must really hate a hair in your dish–an’ who doesn’t–because as a man composed mostly of Bread, twas a dangerous thing for you to toss away!!

    funny as ever, o Bitter One. You are top-tier humorous!! 🙂 🙂

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  21. The thing about your posts is that just one line of bitterness will trigger so much bitterness in me that I had not been dwelling on, like last weekend going to Elevation Burger and when I asked about the double patty, the cashier said he was vegetarian. !! I asked him if he rode here on his bike, but he said no, he had a car that wasn’t even a hybrid. He clearly doesn’t know the vegetarian rules of self-righteousness. Why would he work at a burger place? And that reminded me how pissed I was that they only had fries in olive oil. Where were the onion rings? This is AMERICA! And last night at band practice, a girl told me her secret to losing 40 lbs was no bread and pasta. WTFrick? No bread? That’s like no air. I feel you, Ben.

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    • It is my bitter hope that someday all I need to do is write one line and the whole world turns bitter. Still some way to go, but I’m almost there. Who am I kidding? I’m not even close. And bitter about it.

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  25. I became so embittered after reading this I sent a telegram to Ant out of Ant and Dec and told him that I sometimes like to pretend I’m him by looking at my reflection in the back of a spoon. That’s how embittered I was! Oh yes.

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  27. I make bread. Light, fluffy, clean-tasting white bread. In fact, i’m going to go make some right now. Wouldn’t it be much more relaxing if you had the recipe to your BMI and could manufacture it at will? *turns on copier*

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