Weird Shit in a Bag
The phrase "Shit in a Bag" first crossed my radar yesterday thanks to a plumbing problem in my apartment. I was emailing with my roommates about the problem. One of them said, "What if they can't fix the problem today?" to which the other responded, "Well, then you'll just have to shit in a bag." (Alternately, she could spend the night at her boyfriend's house, but whatever....)
Anyway, I was thinking about it again today for some reason, namely because the image is wholly disgusting and funny, and it somehow sparked a memory of a show I used to watch when I was a kid (it must have been Sesame Street, or Mister Rogers). In this segment, a witch would pull a bunch of random items (weird shit) from a sack (bag), toss it all in a cauldron, and tell a story that wove together the disparate items. Anyone remember which show that was?
I suppose it's no great surprise that this was one of my favorite parts of TV as a kid, considering that I grew up to become a writer. Because what is writing if not weaving together a bunch of weird shit and making it mean something?
Which led me to thinking about what kind of story someone would put together about ME if they looked through all the weird shit I carry around in MY bag. It's kind of scary. To wit, items currently in my purse:
Forty seven dollars
A spoon
A broken hair brush
A quarter pint of egg salad
23 empty bubbles from Nicorette gum
22 pieces of Nicorette gum
Two lighters
Hangnail cream
A bottle of perfume
100 Colones from Belize
Seven birth control pills (oops, two o'clock, make that six!)
Three packets of iodized salt
Nine ponytail holders
Five euros
Two bubbles of Advanced Imodium
Dental floss
Anyway, I was thinking about it again today for some reason, namely because the image is wholly disgusting and funny, and it somehow sparked a memory of a show I used to watch when I was a kid (it must have been Sesame Street, or Mister Rogers). In this segment, a witch would pull a bunch of random items (weird shit) from a sack (bag), toss it all in a cauldron, and tell a story that wove together the disparate items. Anyone remember which show that was?
I suppose it's no great surprise that this was one of my favorite parts of TV as a kid, considering that I grew up to become a writer. Because what is writing if not weaving together a bunch of weird shit and making it mean something?
Which led me to thinking about what kind of story someone would put together about ME if they looked through all the weird shit I carry around in MY bag. It's kind of scary. To wit, items currently in my purse:
Forty seven dollars
A spoon
A broken hair brush
A quarter pint of egg salad
23 empty bubbles from Nicorette gum
22 pieces of Nicorette gum
Two lighters
Hangnail cream
A bottle of perfume
100 Colones from Belize
Seven birth control pills (oops, two o'clock, make that six!)
Three packets of iodized salt
Nine ponytail holders
Five euros
Two bubbles of Advanced Imodium
Dental floss
posted by Had To Move at 3:04 PM
1 Comments:
Heroin-addicted (spoon, lighter) international (currency) assasin (poisoned egg salad - the salt is actually cyanide) who's trying to quit smoking. I'm thinking as a template of Charlie Baltimore from The Long Kiss Goodnight. Best I could do on short notice.
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