Life Just Keeps On Going, Doesn’t It? (Observations, Mishaps and You-knows)
By Brian Polk
Art by Molly Wirtz
Published Issue 106, October 2022
The First Couple Of Times I Saw “Quiet Quitting,” I Thought It Was “Quiet Quilting”
And I concluded it was a nice little trend. What could be more quaint than a bunch of people either getting together or sitting alone and quilting quietly? But the more time went on, the more controversial it began to seem. Then I saw friends whose opinion I really respect vehemently speaking out against the concept. That’s when I realized something must be amiss. After looking into it more closely, I realized the word was “quitting,” and that’s when I joined the outrage. (Now that I know what it is, I too consider myself to be a quiet quitter, and I don’t see anything wrong with that.) Also, when I retire, I think I might look into becoming a quiet quilter, since it seems like it’d be quite relaxing.
Turns Out My Friend Got In Shape Because He Was Planning On Leaving His Girlfriend
At first, I figured my friend Hank started working out at the gym because he was concerned about his health and wanted to not get winded walking up a flight of stairs. But as soon as he began dropping the pounds, he moved out of his girlfriend’s apartment after living there eight years. At that point, I realized his bid to get in shape was so he could present his best self to all the other single people he would soon be dating. It’s definitely a move I’ve made in the past (which is why it was so easy for me to recognize), and one that I’ve seen countless other people make. That’s why if your long-term romantic partner randomly decides to take up running, you should probably do the same, since you’re both likely to be single here pretty soon.
I Walk Really Fast So People Think I’m Important
Once I realized that walking fast imbues a sense of purpose, I’ve come to realize a determined gait can convince my coworkers and supervisors that I have shit to do. Little do they know that I’m walking from the bathroom to the break room and back again. They just see me coming and say, “Excuse me,” and then let me pass without further comment. Or sometimes I will be doing nothing in front of a computer besides checking various websites that have little to do with work when I hear someone approaching. It is then that I minimize my windows, say, “Got it!” and resume my fast walking. But if you do try this, just make sure you have a destination in mind, because if you start fast walking and someone follows you, you can’t just stop and admit that you actually have nowhere to be. (If they catch you doing this, the jig is surely up. And you simply don’t want to ruin a good jig.)
Remember How Everyone Made Ashtrays In Elementary School Pottery Class?
If you don’t then you’re definitely under 40. But if you do remember this, then that was weird, right? I was at my parent’s house and they saved a bunch of craft crap I made when I was a kid and sure enough there were a couple of ashtrays mixed in. That means that all throughout the ‘80s, no one thought, You know, maybe we shouldn’t be teaching kids how to make ash receptacles for their parents so they can smoke tobacco products in front of them. Different priorities, I guess. So if you’re a youngster and you hear us old folks talk about how dissimilar things were back then, just know we speak the truth. Then you can roll your eyes at us and say, “Whatever Xer.”
I Think Once There’s Crap In Your Pants, The Party’s Over
Call me old-fashioned, but I think once excrement of any kind makes an appearance in your trousers, the party should really end and you should go home posthaste. And this isn’t just for toddlers and old people — though it absolutely applies to them as well. But if you’re a regular adult and you have a bottle of wine with dinner and maybe seven or eight martinis at the bar afterwards and all of a sudden, you begin to sense danger down there, then it really is time to make an excuse to get the hell out of wherever you are. Now some people might say once you go home, hose yourself off, and get yourself into a new, non-pooped pair of pants, you can rejoin the party — and I do get what they’re saying. The problem with that is, you run the risk of crapping again. And if you shit yourself twice, your self-esteem may never rebound and you will turn into an agoraphobe because you now possess the knowledge that you can poop your britches twice in one night. (It’s a huge gamble is what I’m saying.) So yes, better just stick to the rule of thumb and heed my grandpappy’s advice: “If the skidders start a-slidin’ toward yer socks, best hightail it straight home, boy.” He was a wise man.
Brian Polk is a Denver-based writer, publisher of The Yellow Rake, and drummer for Joy Subtraction and Simulators. He’s the author of Placement of Character and Turning Failure into Ideology. He likes writing, muck raking, yellow journalism, zines not blogs, cheap booze and punk rock.
Molly Wirtz aka wlffbby is a Lakewood Colorado based illustrator and graphic designer who specializes in the little details in life. She enjoys creating highly detailed pieces with Easter-eggs hidden throughout and has been heavily inspired by the work of Phillipe Druillet. She enjoys biking and hiking with her 14 year old dog named Billy. Check out more of her work on Instagram.