1. Everyone just forgot about planking
Whenever I have the perfect planking opportunity, nobody cares. Society is blind to planking as the timeless jewel among fads; it was both an internet quirk and a core workout--or a brief nap. I'm hoping for a planking resurgence just so I have an excuse to lay across a low-hanging tree branch and a fence post in the middle of the day, mostly because I like avoiding actual work.
2. My butt is too big for a gun holster
So I don't know how to protect children from the grizzlies running rampant from school to school. As a petite woman with a curvy figure, there's just no good place to keep a pistol. My hips are too wide, my boobs are in the way, it won't fit in my skinny-jeans pocket. It's like there's almost no point in a conceal and carry permit.
3. The NSA steals all my best comedy sketches
Every time I come up with something good, I write it on my computer in a word document. Then I hear it somewhere else before I ever have a chance to market myself. I can think of no other explanation than that my assigned agent is stealing my ideas and reselling them for profit. I'm responsible for the hilarity of Amy Schumer, Dmitri Martin, and Trevor Noah, but no one will believe me.
4. The Insurance Industry is too heavily regulated
You can insure your car, phone, house, health, children, spouse, life, pizza, vacations, and anything on the premise of a rental property. But what about a major life insurance policy on my cat, Pajamas? Apparently there are laws against such practices. What kind of country is this in which industry is so heavily regulated? He's a therapy cat, and I don't function without him. In the event of a loss I would suffer such grief that I would not be able to work, but apparently that's not good enough for AIG.
5. Every little thing you do defines your political agenda
Including what you eat. Having some organic broccoli? You're a left-wing hippy liberal that hates corporate agenda, wears a nose ring, and pickets outside Burlington with buckets of fake blood. Enjoying a bacon cheeseburger? Congratulations! You are a gun-toting red-neck right-wing conservative with diabetes and a love for AM radio.
6. They're going to start checking ID's for Tide pods
Because of teenage idiocy, I now have to prove that I'm over eighteen just to purchase my favorite afternoon snack. They're so easy to have when I'm on the go. Packed with nutrients, they really cleanse the system. Anyone (over eighteen) can enjoy these little delights.
7. Vandalism is Illegal
Street art is legal in Melbourne, Australia, but America can't seem to catch up with the progressive ways of Down Under. Our "civilized" society is balls-deep in monochrome gray matter, and most commissioned art is just tacky busy-work. For example, the Bob Dylan mural in downtown Minneapolis and the Walker Art Center.
8. Social Media
On social media, you can play pretend, you can create any fantasy, you can even make up an entirely fake life. In my other life I have sixteen kids (four sets of quadruplets) and a Go Fund Me page to support them. As a single mom, a lot of people are willing to help me out in trying times.
9. Life is comfortable enough that I can really focus on my existential quandary
I don't really have to fight for my food. I know I have reliable shelter and quality transportation and running water. I don't work 32 hours a day in a sweatshop making shoes for rich people, and I don't worry about being dragged from the mud hut by a lion in the middle of the night. I have extra time to really think about why I'm here, what matters, what happens when I die, and whether or not the Large Hadron Collider at CERN is altering the time-space continuum and what that means for reality.
Donald is one of the most atrocious role models of any cartoon duck. He teaches children that you don't need pants and that it's okay to speak unprofessionally.
Catfish in the Mud
I went to Namibia and took a tour of Sossusvlei, where it hasn't rained in 6 years. The river is completely dried up. My guide told me that even in the six-year drought, catfish are hibernating deep down in the mud and will surface again when the rains come back and restore life to the desert. I didn't believe him at first, like I didn't believe in the mysterious fairy circles on the dunes. But now the idea of catfish in the mud has become a metaphor for the things trapped on the inside and down below that wait for the rains to give them some vigor and life. Catfish in the Mud is a pretty standard millennial blog in which I say mostly nothing in about 300 words.