These are some wild times, my friends. And frankly I’m not sure how wild they really are, since I haven’t watched the news in over an hour. Are we in World War III yet? Is Kim Jong Un the king of Texas now? You laugh, but nothing is outside the realm of possibility anymore.
One day we have a president who was an expert in constitutional law and BAM! Now we have someone who thinks he can buy Greenland. The worst part of visiting your family during the holidays used to be your parents nagging you for grandchildren. Now your parents are silently weeping while apologizing for bringing you into this hellscape and your Aunt Sheila won’t let you leave the table until she’s convinced you that vaccines are mind control.
Shit’s getting real and it’s goddamn terrifying.
But I’m here to tell you everything is going to be okay. Or really, I’m here to tell you that everything might not be okay, but you can learn to live with the insanity of never knowing what clusterfuck may be waiting around the corner ready to smack you in the face.
Because what you’re feeling, the fear, apprehension, the agony and pain, the diarrhea, nausea, hair falling out, I’ve been there. Hell, I’m there now without the diarrhea and partial baldness. With this disease who the fuck knows what my future is? But I am getting by.
I’m surviving the daily onslaught of anxiety that living with a serious illness brings. I’m practically thriving. I mean, not really, but I’ve managed to stay alive through the ever-developing neuroses. So, I totally know what I’m doing over here and feel completely confident in telling you what to do.
Hey, if Franklin Graham can have a ‘friendly relationship’ with a Miami poolboy while judging the gays and still claim to be Jesus’ spokesperson then I can call myself an expert at living. And you can pretend I know what I’m talking about. It’s called symbiosis. Look it up.
First, you’re going to need some potatoes. Now I may be a little biased, as my people hail from the Emerald Isle, but potatoes are the greatest things to ever happen to mankind. And I’m entirely convinced that when we enter into an apocalypse, which should happen any minute now, humans will survive it through nothing more than sheer spite and instant mashed potatoes.
When I was on chemo and every single food would go through me like an expired Taco Bell bean burrito, potatoes were my jam. Like, my literal intestinal logjam. Clogging my gut up so I could go at least two hours without my gut churning and my ass burning. Potatoes saved me.
And in all the times in and around chemo, potatoes continued with their life affirming salvation. Sad because you’ve got a medical bill you can’t pay? Mashed potatoes. Worried about the future of your illness? Vodka. Celebrating a good scan result? Eat an entire bag of potato chips! Potatoes will get you through.
And when climate change has all but scorched the earth and sunlight is blotted out from the nuclear fallout, we won’t be able to grow food. The only two things left to consume on the entire planet will be raisins and dehydrated potato products. No one is choosing raisins in that scenario. But let’s be real, no one is choosing raisins in any scenario.
Next, you’re going to need a sense of humor. I know it seems like things are far too serious to be joking right now, but trust me on this one. You have to laugh. And really no one is more easy to laugh at than the Cheeto-in-Charge himself.
If you can’t find a way to chuckle at a thrice married man who used his now imprisoned lawyer to pay hush money to a porn star mistress all while being hailed as a gift from God by evangelicals, well then you are missing out. Yes, you’re angry. We’re all going to die soon and we have no idea how it’s going to go.
Will the planet implode because nature choked on all the plastic spoons we dumped in the ocean?
Will we all die from measles because Aunt Sheila convinced everyone not to vaccinate?
Will missiles rain overhead after the Donald starts a Twitter war with Justin Trudeau?
LITERALLY NO ONE KNOWS! It’s bedlam, people.
So, laugh now while the gettin’s good! Have you seen the makeup job on him lately? Remember that episode of Jersey Shore where Snooki got so drunk she fell facedown at the beach, then got up and fought the cops until they arrested her? His face looks like he bailed her out of jail, gave her a bottle of Jägermeister, a couple of quaaludes, and said, “Alright, NOW do my makeup.”
Lastly, you’re going to need each other. I’ll admit it. I hate when people have to help me. I’m too proud. But when they’ve carved your leg up like an Easter ham and you’re hobbling around with a walker you learn to set your pride aside and let people help you.
And it’s a really beautiful thing because it feels good to let people love you. Then, you get to return the favor and help them. And, BELIEVE IT OR NOT, helping people feels even better than when they help you.
Sure, you’re mad at your Aunt Sheila now, but when our electrical grid is hacked and we no longer have power she won’t be able to watch Fox News anymore and eventually she’ll get back to her senses. After she fights off a wicked case of polio she’ll realize that she was wrong all along. She’ll be fighting the Nazis harder than any of us.
Because that’s what it will come to. It will be the Nazis and us. And I’m pretty sure the war, famine, fires, and rampant disease will have it so the only people left on our side will be you, me, your Aunt Sheila, Keith Richards, and Betty White.
Keith will be too busy trying to bang you and your Aunt Sheila, so count him out on the Nazi punching. That leaves you, me, Aunt Sheila, and Betty White. Sure, Betty White could punch a Nazi or two, but do we let Betty White punch Nazis? Do we put her in harm’s way like that?
NO. NO, WE DO NOT! Betty White is a treasure and should be protected at all costs. So, basically we’re going to be punching Nazis and protecting Betty White and eating dehydrated potatoes. And making sure Keith Richards isn’t trying to shag Betty White, unless she’s into it. Remember, we protect Betty White AT ALL COSTS.
I know it’s difficult right now. I know you’re scared, but you can do this. You can survive Trump like I survived a tumor that was removed, left me temporarily unable to walk, and then grew into two tumors and lifelong debt I’ll never be able to repay. Comparatively speaking, the Trump thing is much worse, but still my thing is pretty bad.
But back to the pep talk. You can do this! You can defeat an alleged Adderall addict with a bad combover and access to the nuclear codes. And all it takes is these three things: potatoes, laughter, and each other. WE CAN DO THIS!
And, above all, for the love of all things holy, don’t let anything happen to Betty!
*Featured image courtesy of Pixabay