I'm Such a Pussy

Writing my inevitable New York Times best-seller on being a Manny means culling through three years of posts about The Short Bus, which means I spend half the time laughing and half the time wanting to cry my eyes out. All the time wondering "did this whole thing really happen?" Fucking hell. It's almost too much. I'm probably gonna read it on my deathbed, curled up crying like a baby. Fucking christ.

Thursday, June 19, 2008

The Manny Tapes

TODAY SO FAR:

Good: While strolling over to "My Grownup and Me" class he turned around to hand me his juice bottle when he was done. This is a first for us - usually he hurls it into the street so I have to dodge buses frantically trying to pick it up as he cackles behind me. Grrrrr.

Bad: While in class, he picked up a doll. Unbelievably, this isn't even the bad part. It happened to be a black doll (sorry - African American doll.) He picks it up, looks at it for a minute and then walks straight over to the one black woman in the class. She looks up at me, not amused, and I hafta do the ol' over-dramatic paralyzed grin on my face while clapping my hands and saying "oh look, a baaaaaaaby! hooraaaaaaaay, baby!!!" routine. A frosty class after that.








"HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! You know I don't see color, Xmas! Actually, with you blocking out the sun I don't see ANYTHING, you fat fuck!!!!"