PAY IT FORWARD: You Will Go To Sleep Or I Will PUT You To Sleep

March 26, 2010 at 11:50 am 7 comments

Internet, seriously. I can’t stop with the quoting of the Adam Sandler movies. They’re just too damn pertinent. Especially in this instance, because today’s PAY IT FORWARD! may have very well originated with this gentleman:

“You’re in MY world now, Grandma.”

This forward comes to us courtesy of The New Girl. Incidentally, let me take this time to thank all of you who have continued to send me forwards. I have a nice little backlog, but am always looking for the next best be-glittered thing. Keep ’em coming!


OK, let’s get started.

Subject: Fwd: Life is short, break the rules

This subject line has nothing – NOTHING! – to do with this email, with the exception of the first randomly-inserted and totally unrelated paragraph:

Ah, yes: the sociopath’s serenity prayer.

Despite what the 36-pt. font would have you believe, no, this will not change your thinking. Trust me.

Hi, and welcome to the spec script for The Bucket List.

So much for eating lunch today. Moving on.

Because if you’re going to potentially drown in your own gross lung juice, you might as well do so while overlooking the parking lot.


The nurses don’t like to speak of the time they got in a prostate enlarging contest.

Something tells me these conversations involved heavy usage of the words “sumbitch,” “got-damn,” and “colored.”

Well, he tried. It mostly just came out sounding like “Gurrgrurgrgruuurgle-gurgle-gurgleblubblubblub.”

Ah! To be regaled with tales of the glorious SYSCO delivery to Loading Dock B!

Were there girls at the lake? I have a feeling this is about to turn sexy.

Oh for fuck’s sake, where is this hospital? In a Monet painting?

Can we not get these poor bastards some cable TV already?

“You should see these dames!” he exclaimed to the man in the other bed, unaware that he was watching the area’s annual Gay Pride festivities.

As opposed to describing it with non-descriptive words.


Knowing that one’s bowels evacuate immediately after dying, I submit that the other man in the room did not find this death to be particularly peaceful.

And then she was like “Aw, snap! One less sponge bath! Later, Old Spice – I’m goin’ on my break.”

Allow me to break it down for you REALISTIC HOSPITAL EXPERIENCE-style: As soon as they wheeled that poor dead bastard out of the room, the old dude was all “NURSE! Move me next to the window!” and she was all “SIR, I have other patients to attend to right now, SIR,” so she left him to ring the nurse buzzer approximately 47 times over the next six hours, and it was only after the shift change that the old man finally got moved to the other bed by the surly night nurse, who then stole some change off of the old man’s shelf for her troubles.

Oh. The suspense. It’s killing me.

What the FUCK is a “blank” wall?! Do most walls contain full transcriptions of Hall & Oates song lyrics?* Fucking forward.

Um, dementia?


By describing all the great things in the world that they were MISSING OUT ON? If  my ass is stuck in the hospital, I’d really rather you encourage me by telling me how shitty everything in the outside world is, thanks.

Now here’s my favorite part:

Yes. An epilogue. FOR A FUCKING FORWARD.

Just ask the blind guy who died alone in his sleep in a hospital bed!

When poorly re-worded trite sentiments attack.

And then try to pay your rent or buy your groceries with those things and your ass will fall back down to reality with the fucking rest of us.

This little gem was clever when I first read it off of a Ziggy poster in my 8th grade English classroom, but every time I hear it now (which is usually via these forwards), I kind of want to hurt someone.

After this, there’s some bullshit about the email causing good luck and how no one knows where the story originated (I’m guessing the Hallmark Channel’s writers’ room) blah blah blah, but that’s about it.

And I meant to mention this at the beginning of this post (before I got all sidetracked by mid-90s comedy), but thank you for all your thoughtful comments on the last Deep Thoughts post. It was deeply cathartic for me to be able to get that out into the universe, and I appreciate all of your responses.

Now go off and enjoy your weekend, Internet!

*It would be kind of awesome.

And THAT, my friends, is how you wear a mustache.


Entry filed under: PAY IT FORWARD!.

Deep Thoughts: Religion I Hate These Things, and I Hate Their Ass Faces!

7 Comments Add your own

  • 1. The New Girl  |  March 26, 2010 at 12:58 pm


    You are fucking FUNNY. The SYSCO delivery? *snort*

    And also: ‘Later, Old-Spice, I’m goin on break!’ I think I’m going to have to work THAT little gem into regular conversation around here.


  • 2. Sarahviz  |  March 26, 2010 at 3:13 pm

    This made my Friday. I kinda want to have a threesome with you and The New Girl now.

    In a bloggy kind of way, I mean.

  • 3. Lawyerish  |  March 26, 2010 at 3:43 pm

    This might be your best work yet. I about busted a GUT laughing at this. ZIGGY POSTERS. Transcribed Hall & Oates lyrics! Use of the word “sum-bitch”!

    God, you’re good.

  • 4. 4th Reader of Said Turkey  |  March 26, 2010 at 6:53 pm

    Why didn’t the man in the other bed know already that there was no lake with kids and lovers and all that shit? I mean, had he never even driven by the hospital before he had to spend months there flat on his back? Didn’t he even know what that part of town was like? And how many oozing pus-filled bedsores did he have from spending all that time flat on his back in a hospital bed?

  • 5. Swistle  |  March 29, 2010 at 9:01 am

    One of these days you are going to literally make me barf with laughter.

    Also, how is it that it NEVER CAME UP in conversation that the man was blind? And the roommate never NOTICED?

    • 6. jiveturkey  |  March 29, 2010 at 11:13 am

      You’re RIGHT!!! I can’t believe I didn’t think of that before now…

  • 7. HoST  |  March 29, 2010 at 9:02 am

    This is awesome. What a miserable place this hospital must be. The only emotion this forward brings out in me is one that will inevitably lead to my suicide.


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