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Whimsy

“Open the Pod Bay Doors, Facebook”

Published on: September 28, 2013 by Missy O'Brien 4 Comments

“Your sister is waiting for you to see her post on your timeline.” Do I need this new personal pressure from Facebook?  They’ve already sent me an email telling me that my sister posted on my page, along with the text of her comment.  Now, they nag me if...

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Santa, Shrapnel, and Stupidity

Published on: September 25, 2013October 24, 2013 by Missy O'Brien 8 Comments

So I don’t remember my parents ever actually lying to me.  At least, I never caught them doing so, which amounts to the same thing.  I suffered the usual heart-rending Santa Claus disillusionment at their hands, but that was a lie perpetrated by the whole culture.  And, as lies...

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True Grit: Strippers on the Altar

Published on: September 19, 2013 by Missy O'Brien 3 Comments

So some evangelical middle-aged church ladies in righteous pastel polyester show up at a local strip joint bright and early this past Sunday morning. They are there to offer consolation prizes to the 20 or so exotic dancers who’ve been told at 2:00 AM (after working a long and...

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One Fish, Two Fish, Dead Fish, Cold Fish

Published on: September 7, 2013September 7, 2013 by Missy O'Brien 2 Comments

  First, it was 6,000 dead pigs floating in Shanghai’s water supply.  Then, 1,000 dead ducks surfaced in the Sichuan River.  Now, hundreds of thousands of dead fish are floating in the Fu river in Wuhan, capital of the central province of Hubei. Workers are digging trenches along 25...

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Burning Issues: Goat Shit, Cheetos, and Chemical Weaponry

Published on: August 25, 2013August 25, 2013 by Missy O'Brien 6 Comments

“Is it safe?” asks Brand New Husband. I have just driven the car up through the middle of a rocky Vermont cow pasture and have come to an abrupt halt beside a ramshackle hovel.  We have traveled an hour and a half from the nearest major airport. I have...

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The Search for Mirth

 

 

 

 

 

Gratitude is easy — you’re upright with a pulse and still remember where you live? Grateful, and done!

Mirth is hard — one look at the headlines can rob you of the will to live. Why bother with pointless exercises like brushing your teeth or breathing?

And so I search for Mirth — a capricious mistress, whimsical and perverse and untidy and contrary. But that’s what makes her interesting.

While misery loves company, Mirth enjoys it even more. Thanks for joining me!

Missy O’Brien | mirthfulmissy@gmail.com

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I don't know how the hell to spell frankincense, either. It's a terrible title for a blog. Just subscribe to Mirth or bookmark the site, and you'll never have to fumble-finger it again.

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