389: You IDJIT


There have been times this epithet has been directed at other people. I admit it  – sometimes other people are just plain stupid. So there.

More frequently, lately, this scorching has been aimed squarely at…………………………………………..me.

Ding dong dag nab it, sometimes I win the trophy. Queen bee idjit. Tiara and all.

I know when I’ve done it, too – there is that oh-no second when I realize it is too late, right before the snot hits the fan and delivers a smooth spatter to the universe. The cringe of full knowledge – eyup, that was me, blazing a trail where few had trod before, dammit, and none will (willingly) tread after.  *sigh*

Most of my idjit difficulties appear to stem from the undeniable fact that I cannot keep my big mouth SHUT. Can. NOT. Do. It.

If I am thinking it (and I occasionally do have some good thoughts, even if I do say so myself), it goes immediately to the superhighway of speech before I can warn my tongue about the speed trap ahead. And there is no calling it back once it is out there. Unlike a fart that can be politely ignored, or better yet, blamed on someone else, there is little possibility of unclaiming something I have just announced to the wide world. Brain farts converted to speech farts can NOT be passed off on somebody else, dammit. I know. I’ve tried – no dice.

This diarrhea-of-the-mouth problem I have does not include secrets – I just want to help solve any problems I hear about, so I get myself into trouble trying to help fix things. Sometimes the idjit trophy arrives squarely at my door that way, too.

So, excuse me while I adjust my tiara and march off-stage with my trophy: Miss Idjit, Universe level.


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