Posts Tagged ‘Humor’

“Whenever you want to marry someone, go have lunch with his ex-wife.” (first)
by Francis William Bourdillon.


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It’s Not You….


Is this great or what?
Cartoonists must read my blog too.
Thanks Mike Peters.

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he_is_making_a_list_he_is_checking_it_twice_he_bumper_sticker-p128763840322541237en8ys_400I was bored this week and I got to thinking about all the things my readers (and myself) will miss during this holiday season not having to entertain the disordered Narcissist in their life.  If your N was a female, feel free to subsitute the female pronouns.
As far as Santa’s list goes?  The N would definitely be on the Naughty list.

You will not have to hear how the gift you got him is inferior to what other sources of supply got him
He will not make any comments about the holiday decorations
You will not open a gift of fishing waders 3 sizes too big for you
You will not have to feign excitement over already/partially used gift cards
You not be expected to clean the floor after the holiday dinner with the fabulous new mop he gave you.
You will not have to listen to him complain that dinner is not how his mother would have made it
You will not be giving him gifts while he has nothing for you in exchange.  (See used gift cards)
You will not have to listen to ANY complaints from him
You will not have to hear him lecture you that you spent too much money on food, gifts, children, decorations…but not enough money on him…
Oh, and let me guess…does he think the Nativity scene represents his birthday? LOL!

In short, your holiday will not be disturbed by the pathetic creature who tries to pass himself/herself off as human.

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Pick up lines

This is my first post in some time that has nothing to do with a narcissist.

I would have expected a high school football game to be THE last place someone would try to (I believe the phrase is) “hit on me.”

This is my youngest son’s 2nd year in marching band – two more years to go.  I know I will grieve deeply when there are no more
6 am rehearsals or sectionals until 9 pm, to deliver him to or pick him up from….no more trips to the music store for repairs, reeds, or strings…it’s just right now, sitting in a football stadium on a hot September night is the last place I want to be.

Hubby is at home after a 60+ hours week.  My neighbor of 25+ years has joined me in the bleachers on this last Friday of September.  She is a “retired band mom” having shuttled five children back and forth to band activities for over 20 years.  My grand total will be 16, don’t think I  can count college.

My neighbor’s appearance was actually a surprise; I had brought an unreleased murder/mystery novel to the game to occupy my time until the band came on the field.  After all, isn’t that what a football game is for?  For half time?  How did I get an advanced reader copy of a novel?  Just one of the perks of being me.

She and I settled back to talk and occasionally cheer, “Good job” when one of the players makes the coach proud.  This not one of those games where that happened alot…at half time the score was 28 to zero.  The football “Dads” higher up in the nose bleed section were downright disgusted this evening and weren’t saying much.  Also, up top are my older sons with girlfriend/date and ‘girl de jour.’  They are past the age where they can’t hug mom in public, so when they arrived earlier, my neighbor and I got hugs before they climbed up the stairs.

Half way into the second quarter, inning, half…(what is that called?) the band begins to file past us on their way to warm up.
They have been playing cheer songs and volleying comments back and forth to the cheer leaders, but now it is time to seriously warm up.  As they walk past, I am ‘The Mom’ who accepts cell phones, keys, jackets, etc and hopefully remembers to return them at the beginning of the 4th…it’s quarter, isn’t it?   As the musicians finally take the marching band field…isn’t this what we’ve been waiting for?…..the crowd gets a little livelier.  The band has run through the whole show now before competition season starts, but we are still not treated to the full show.  Sam’s brothers shout out a colorful sibling cheer as they see their brother take his position on the field.  The regiment sounds great considering that they have only been a “unit” for little over a month now and with 10 – 12 freshmen players as well.

My neighbor stays through two more touchdowns – for the visiting team  and then decides to head for home.
The score is now 42 – 7.  Hey, at least the home team has made one touchdown.  Sam is back, having gotten food from the snack booth after raiding my purse for money.  That’s another reason why Mom goes to the game…the nachos aren’t bad.  He says he’s going to join his brothers for a bit before the band is to return to their section in the bleachers.  The kids have claimed all their belongings, with a choruses of “Thanks Mrs. Stuart,” and my fave, “Thanks Sam’s Mom….” (that’s to be said with a lilt in the voice, and from 9th grade girls) so it seems safe for me to finally open my book.

I get through a few chapters, finding that this one is going to be a ‘real page turner.’  Two more touchdowns have been made, one for each side, when a shadow falls across the text…”Mind of I sit here?” the man asks.  Nevermind there are ACRES of places to sit in the bleachers, I respond, “No,” and I go back to reading.  The man, (I never got his name) has other ideas.

He starts off with a rapid volley of questions, most of which I do not even remember now.

“Do you go to school here?” he asked.

I was amused.  “I have one son in the band,” I said.

“You don’t have a kid in the band!  You’re too young!  You don’t have kids!”    😉   

Seriously, he winked.

“I assure you, I have a son in the band.” 

“You must have graduated from high school in the late 90’s.”

I just looked at him, incredulously.  Do the math, buddy. My youngest was born in the late 90’s

“Early 90’s? Late 80’s?”

I decided to turn the tables – “When did you graduate from high school?” 


“I was already married when you graduated.”  This guy has got to be kidding me!  Have you not looked at my left hand? 

“I’m going to need to see some identification!

Are you kidding me?

“Oh, I get it, you were one of those girls who HAD to get married.”

The joker got my raised eyebrow.
I looked up in the stands to my sons were sitting.  My eldest gave me the ‘What the heck, Mom ‘ look.
Then, the guy touched my arm to get my attention back to him.  Hey buddy, ever hear of personal space? 

I forced a smile.

“So have you had your ten year reunion yet? I went to mine and there were girls who got married right after graduation and they had five kids…one woman had seven.

What I wanted to say was…”She should have held an aspirin between her knees…..”  I just smiled. 

The flirting continued to the point that I wondered if the band boosters had started selling beer to boost sales. 
Nope, no wrist bands. 

The visiting team scored another touchdown  56 -13.
My sons apparently had seen enough because all three of them came down the bleachers with their dates and sat down around me.  There was a chorus of “Hi Mom! 

The guy stared at them with his mouth hanging open. 

I said, “I told you I had a son in the band; these three have graduated.” 

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The last time I saw the N, I felt absolutely nothing for the…..oops I can’t say that with my family persona…let’s just say my only emotions were disgust and contempt.  Facebook has given us some great new phrases that we did not have before.  She doesn’t say she pushed him.  But it is implied.  😀

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Today is the annual blood drive in my office.
I didn’t think much about it at first until I remembered that the N used to make such a big deal out of making his appointment.
He told me that his blood was “special” – that the Red Cross wanted his blood for babies.
I was not quick enough to ask him, “Vampire babies?”

It was after a blood drive some years ago, that the N told me he had an STD.
TMI Dude!
A casual lunch time topic, right?
Just then I started to see through the ‘dense patch of N-fog’, I said, “How on earth does the Red Cross justify giving your tainted blood to precious newborns?” He glared at me and stormed out of the lunch room.
His twisted lies gave me whiplash.
Does no one ever question them on their lies?

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1. Gaslighting Narcissist:  I Don’t You Hear What You Hear, what voices? Voices? Maybe You’re crazy!
2. Lying Narcissist:  I’ll tell you I’ll be Home for Christmas and then I won’t show up.
3. Basic Narcissist (Garden Variety):  Hark the Herald Angels Sing About Me
4. Narcissist in the Manic mode:   Deck The Halls And Walls And House And Lawn And Streets And Stores And Office And….
5. Narcissist AKA Multiple Personality Disorder:  We Three Queens/Kings Disoriented Are
6. Paranoid Narcissist:  Santa Claus Is Coming To Get Me
7. Narcissistic & BPD: You Better Watch Out, You Better not Shout, I’m Gonna Cry & I won’t tell you why
8. Psychopath Narcissist:  Thoughts of roasting you on an open fire…
9. The N in OCD mode:  Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells…
10.  Martyr Narcissist:  Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas while I sit here and hyper-ventilate…no no, go ahead…I’ll make you
       pay dearly – later.

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