This is what Willis was talkin' bout...

In memory of Gary Coleman, I thought I might answer what has become Mr Coleman's legacy.

So what was Willis talkin' bout? As it turns out, Willis was talkin' 'bout dualism - the belief that our mind has a non-material, spiritual dimension. This view was shared by both Dudley and Mrs Garrett, but strongly opposed by Mr D, who was a fierce materialist. The tension this debate caused in the upper Manhattan apartment was overwhelming, to say the least. In many cases, Mr D and Willis wouldn't talk for weeks at a time, leaving Arnold in the middle, struggling to find peace in what can only be considered a war zone. Mrs Garrett acted as a conduit between them, but since she sided with Willis philosophically, much of what Arnold heard was not necessarily accurate.  Sadly, throughout most of 1985, a bunk bed was just about the only thing Arnold and Willis shared.

Over the years, Willis began 'talkin 'bout less. Politics. Sports. Donna Summer. Rip Torn. Jelly beans. Scatman Cruthers. Dancercising. Big League Chew. Safe, almost juvenile topics that steered clear of controversy. He took a decidedly vague stance on just about everything, making it next to impossible to pin down exactly what he was talkin' 'bout at any given time. An affair will Mrs Garrett also made things a little less clear both in his head and with Mr D, who, disgustingly enough, was also in the midst of a torrid romance with Mrs G. Dudley also had romantic ties to Mrs Garrett, but has chosen not to comment.

Things I currently loathe. In no particular order

Saying you'll be there in a certain number of "sleeps".

Skinny jeans.

People that insist that their dog loves to say hello which, intern, means you and your dog somehow owe it to them to stop and have a little meet and greet.  My dog just wants to whiff your dog's ass, nothing more. I just want to keep walking.

Republicans.

Accidently saying or doing something memorable in the presence of someone you don't know very well. This usually leads to this moment being a "thing" between you and the other person.  It can be anything. A shared interest in sports or a lunch purchase that they found interesting. I use a lot of hot sauce when I eat and got into a situation like this with someone who happened to notice at work. So, as it usually plays out, for months, every time I saw them  I'd get comments like "hot enough for you?" followed by a grin or uncomfortable laugh. Getting out is difficult, if not impossible. Luckily, they were canned and I was free. Now I have one going with someone who saw me running for the street car. "Hey speedy, you woke up early today huh?"

White people who make a point of announcing/telling everyone about how they had Ethiopian food on the weekend.

People that go out of their way to look alternative and artsy. Something tells me Iggy Pop looked that way because he was/is fucked out of his mind. You can't buy that at Urban Outfitters. At least not yet.

Business guys talking about golf. What's not to hate?

Saying something was the best EVER!!! Like this was the best weekend ever! Saying or writing this reduces an adult to a 11-year old valley girl in a matter of seconds.

Flag waving world cup nonsense.  Yes, you are from that country on your car flag. Good for you. Well done.

Ads that proclaim to be some sort of "movement". A call to arms to get out there and get involved.  For a brand. Please stop. Ads are invasive enough as it is. Let's save movements for things that matter. Like looking alternative and or artsy.

Flatulence Karma

I walked into three farts today. Three. One is usually quite out of the ordinary, but three is just plain horrifying. I couldn't help but wonder if I had done something to offend the fart gods. Especially given the severity of each incident. In one case, I think I actually got a slight buzz along with a hefty helping of egg and cheese.

 It's such a bizarre thing. One second I'm in line to pay for a pepsi and the next I'm marinating in someone's filth. I have started reacting quite vocally when inside the cloud itself. "Oh god" is a favourite of mine.  Or "Jesus Christ! You've got to be kidding me!"I guess I want them to know and acknowledge my discontent. A quick, disapproving look is not a suitable response to the terror they've put me through.

How do I make things right? Do I enter an elevator and save an unsuspecting person from a Taco Bell treat with a can of lysol? Perhaps a trip to the Mandarin with a bag full of beano will do the trick. For now, I venture into crowds with great anticipation, hoping that my innocent purchase isn't punctuated with their three course breakfast.