video: credits to the animated cartoon, “the real ghostbusters” 

when i was in pre-school, i hit my head on a lead pipe and had to go to the hospital (it was bloody and painful, unlike when scotty hit his head on a pipe in star trek four). sister kathy, who ran the pre-school, visited me in the hospital and told me she had a “ghostbusters” action figure for me.

i instantly freak out: holy shit, what if it’s egon, my favorite?!? all the pain in my head was gone, replaced with a sense of joy and wonder - i was a kid again!

then, she presents me with the monkey-thing from the ghostbusters cartoon that’s not based on the film the ghostbusters. i die inside. i hold the figure in my hands, turn to sister kathy and say:

“oh, this is awesome. my favorite! thank you so much!”

that’s right - my first taste of false praise. and it tasted horrible.

since that fateful day i’ve gone on to tell many other people false things. “your show was great”, “i love you”, “no, really, i love you, i’m not just saying that ’cause we slept together”…all awful, and all tracable back to that one incedent in the hospital.

maybe if i never hit my head on that pipe, i’d be more honest. i’d tell people their sketches were lame even for the 80s, or that i only slept with them to build up my self confidence and that they really could have been any girl. but then again, if i did that i wouldn’t have this blog entry - the best blog entry ever.

good night, america!