Tuesday, March 04, 2003

There's an episode of the Simpsons. I'm not sure exactly which it is, but for some reason Marge and Homer are going to a black-tie event. Marge tries to remind Homer what happened the last time they went to such an event. She holds up a newspaper with a picture of Homer on the back of a donkey and they're tear-assing through some ballroom, it looks like.

Marge makes the comment "That Donkey is such a bad influence on you." From all the show, it's my favorite Marge line. I like it because it works on a couple of levels for me.

1.) It implies that Homer and the donkey have had at least a couple of encounters, and Marge knows that she'll have to make an active effort in the future, when Homer and the donkey are together, to keep the peace.

2.) That Marge holds the donkey (an animal) at least as culpable as Homer in their exploits. I just think it's as funny as hell that Homer could be influenced (I think goaded is a better word) to bad behavior by a mindless animal. In my mind, I never once thought of Marge as excusing Homer for his actions, instead blaming it on the donkey. That's not nearly as funny.

Segue:

I had to apologize to my friend Julie last night. See, when Jason and I get together, there's very little good that can come from it. And in the course of the evening last night, I said a couple of pretty stupid things. Things that when you get into your truck, drive away, and think about how the night went, you realize what kind of an ass you possibly made of yourself, now. Actually, that's kind of the story of my social life, in general. From age 15 or so up to current age 26.

We did make the comment that Jason and I are terrible influences upon the other. This is true, actually, of a lot of my guy friends. If you were to put me, Jason, Bill and Steven in a room together. Julie mentioned this. We all have such similar senses of humor. Mostly fart jokes.

But still. I feel badly, though I don't know necessarily that I have to. She may not have even minded. She does date Jason Davenport, after all.

I'll put that on the list of potential titles for my Autobiography:

What Kind of Ass Have I Made of Myself, Now?

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