Epiphany Smiphany; ADHD Sucks


So. I was sitting at breakfast with maybe two dozen family and friends this morning when I had what I’ll attempt to describe as an epiphany. I’m using the word epiphany to describe my awakening because I think epiphany is a very neat word.

Epiphany, epiphany epiphany!

Sounds neat, spells neat and feels good in your mouth and has a precise meaning. For some reason I like words, I don’t know why. Some of my favorites include dichotomies, conundrumusses, hypoglycemia, and ostrich.

Maybe that’s why I make up my own words occasionally. Sometimes Webster’s Unabridged simply lacks an approved entry that fully defines/describes precisely what it is I want to say. For example, we’re speaking of the work that Dixie and Squirt do for Streaker Jones and me. They are companions for sure, they interpret dozens of languages for us in support of our many business efforts, Dixie tries to be the boss of me, and the Squirt is my most recent partner in crime.

What with all of that, the word “interpreter” seems more than insufficient to describe what they are. Maybe interpreter is less than sufficient. I can always write that last paragraph anytime I want to describe what the girls do for us with precision. Or, I can just make adjustments to some word that makes a good run at it, and modify that word to suit my needs.

Like I could say, “Dixie translated Dutch to Central American bumpy toad and told me to eat my spinach. Dixie is my interpolater.”

Or I might say that, “The Squirt interpretated a Swahili love song into ostrich and did the tribal dance that accompanies the song so that Rick Perry could use it to get Rush Limbaugh in the mood.” I admire the creativity my giant bird has when he wants to entice my pet hog into a little gay sexing.

The Reckmonster has a new post to her bloggie and she talks about how her former brick house has now become a brick duplex as the years and childbirth have made additions to the basic structure. I don’t think she needs to worry at all because I hear she can really shake that thing. And Rick Perry likes the Rushster’s booty and I can only describe that ass as a brick Pentagon.

And that’s what I’m talking about with words. Reckmonster and Squatlo– take those names as perfect examples. You can’t find them in the dictionary, but all you need to do is read their works and you’ll understand that they are each perfectly named.

Now. If you’re a new reader, you are likely thinking to yourself, “This Mooner Johnson is a fucking scatterbrained numskull.” And you’d be right.

My ADHD has been on the fritz because I have been without I-net connections until this morning. OK, my ADHD has been on the fritz because I fucking HAVE the ADHD. The I-net dealie just adds additional layers of distractions to my digressions.

Which reminds me of my point. We had a crowd to breakfast this am because of power outages. I’ve got industrial strength generators to fall back on for just these instances. They’re leftovers from my Y2K preparations, a story I might tell you one day. I had power and the others had none.

Anyway, we were laughing and yukking it up over heuvos rancheros and frijoles refritos, which I of course was washing down with crisp, cold Carta Blanca beer. I had to get up to go pee and the Squirt wanted to go as well.

“Come on sweetie pie, I’ll hold you so you don’t pee on the floor,” I told her. “It’s just too cold for you to go outside.”

My Gram pipes up, “Iffn ya let tha dog piss on my floor, I’ll crown yer ass, Mooner.”

I kissed the old gas bag on top of her hard head and Squirt and I took off. When we got to the bathroom, I lifted the commode lid and bent to pick her up. The little dog shook her head and said to me, she said, “No way, Bwana Mooner. Mi gusta to urinieren ine el lavamanos mit you!” Then she looks up at me, wagging her tail expectantly.

I though about her request for only a second before saying, “OK you little shitbird. I guess if I pee in the sink to save water, what’s sauce for the pointer is gravy for the setter.”

I picked Squirt up and placed her on the vanity beside the sink. “Now watch carefully little lady. You want to dribble down the side of the bowl so you don’t splash on Gram’s toothbrush.” I had splashed on SAC Ellen’s toothbrush awhile back and it cost me a booty call.

I peed first to show Squirt how, and set a fine example. But I didn’t do my One-Cup-Wonder-Flush right away. “OK, now squatlo right here, and for shitsakes be careful”

Squirt giggled at my joke. Have I ever told you just how cute this little dog is? She wiggles around to position herself where she can see the reflection of her little cooter in the vanity mirror as she pees. As she starts to pee she starts to giggle again. “I wonderella’d what I look like when I pee,” she laughed at me. I laughed right back.

When she finished, I took a Kleenex and dabbed her adorable little hangie-down twatter and then flushed the sink clean with a double-handful of water. I set Squirt to the floor and wondered out loud, “I wonder if a double handful of water is actually a single handfuls of water?”

“Like su Grandmacita hablas, Mooner. Who gives a shit?” Squirt answered.

The tiny dog and I debated the water verbiage issue on our way back to the table, where I got whacked by my epiphany. I was thinking to myself, I think I should have told Squirt not to mention that we peed in Gram’s sink because Gram will kill me if she finds out, when it hit.

“I have been thinking out loud way too much,” I said, and this time out loud on purpose.

Manana, y’all.

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5 Responses to “Epiphany Smiphany; ADHD Sucks”

  1. awww *hugs* its okay to be a little scatterbrained! It happens to us chicks all the time…especially when we’re bleeding to death on our periods! 😉

  2. admin says:

    Hey T-cat. Having worn a Kotex pad jammed up my ass for most of last year, I gained a new respect for women and their periods. What bothers me is why they are called a period. It isn’t like you have one and that’s the end of it… PERIOD!

    I think they should be called commas, or maybe exclamation marks! Or call them whateverthefuck you call those sideways unhappy face dealies 🙁 .

    Or, we can invent a new name for monthly cycle woes. Let’s do a contest!!!

  3. Mooner, I was fuckin’ rolling on the damned floor this morning with this post! You are one crazy fucker. And yeah, the Brick Duplex might register on the richter scale when I shake it, but no matter – it still shakes! BAHAHAHA!

    Meanwhile, you and squirt ought to go on tour. Pissing in random sinks around the country and giving commentary. Like that dude that does those documentaries – “Super Size Me” and shit.

    P.S. Your posts make complete sense. Scatterbrained Schmatterbrained!

  4. squatlo says:

    Telling your dog to “squatlo right here” was pure genius. My first dog’s name was Squatlo, and he didn’t take orders well. Squatted wherever he damn well pleased, and as a result was banished from inside the house. The dog has dachshund legs on a schnouzer’s body with a pit bulls head, and was solid black. One fucked up mess of a mutt, but I loved that dog.
    Story for you… coming up at my place. gotta get a cold beer or two for the duration…

  5. Dammit, Mooner. This is precisely what I was bitching about in my little diatribe about giving you an award for your blog but noting that your fucking comment shit is WHACKER than WHACK!

    Seriously, Mooner – you dog – you are one funny MOFO! So, I have acknowledged your insane genius ass with the following:


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