TALC

I’m going to start a little mini-series within this blog called “Things I Hate About Being 30.”  So far this has been a rough year, and though I try to stay optimistic about things, part of that optimism relies on getting shit off my chest as soon as possible so the good vibes can flow in.  You can’t fill a pot with roses if it’s overflowing with dirt, know what I mean?  This will not be an organized mini-series, but when something makes that one long hair right above my ass itch, you’ll know about it.

 

Speaking of my ass, let’s talk about Talc.  As a young, handsome man in my twenties, I used to drive my Ferrari slowly down Sunset Bouelvard to the cheers of my adoring fans while listening to “Loveline” on KROQ.  Tuning in to the popular call-in radio show about love, sex, drugs, and other peasant issues was my way of staying in touch with the little people.  The host, Adam Corolla, often would discuss how how his backside would sweat like a championship fighter in the 11th round of the Death Valley Desert Brawl, and that he was a proponent of “talcing up” – using baby powder to prevent excessive moisture that would cause irritation (aka diaper rash).

 

Now a month into my thirties, fate has called in its loans and I have no Ferrari, no fans, no Loveline, and the only sweating ass in my life isn’t on the radio but in my very own office chair.  I’ve been to the doctor three times this year.  I’ll spare you the details of my medical history (my doctor has transferred me to one of his enemies as a practical joke), but the boomerang has returned full swing and I now have a wedge in my budget pie chart for baby powder.  It’s hot here (a future post), and I do go to the gym, but these alone cannot be the cause.  It is my body’s failure to control itself.  I am slowly regressing back into childhood.  

 

As soon as the pie chart slice for applesauce gets as big as the one for baby powder, be worried for me.  Because I’ll be too old to know what’s going on. 

~ by admin on March 18, 2008.