“His name is Duke, and he is a good cat.” Bubbles, you know some piles about kitties.
“I’m kind of the guy who looks out for all the kitties in the park. Otherwise there’d be nobody to take care of ’em. This cocksucker here, I found him in a storm drain. Fur all messed up, fuckin’ names spray-painted on ‘im, and bird ox all fuckin’ stuck to him. But I cleaned him all up. Look at ‘im. That’s one fuckin’ nice kitty right there.”
If you are having a particularly difficult Monday, and finding it painful to imagine making it through the end of this week, with the prospect of yet another week to come after that, allow this to wash over you. Perhaps there is something dim, distant, profane, tender looking out for you – it cannot be everywhere at once, and it cannot stop your fur from being spray-painted, but it is looking out for you, no matter where you may be in the park, and if you are stuck in a storm drain, this dim-and-distant caretaker will climb into it and coax you out with a bit of canned salmon and scrub you clean, and dry you with a small dish towel, and declare you “one fuckin’ nice kitty right there.” And perhaps that will be enough. One fuckin’ nice kitty right there, is what you are. Not just nice, but fuckin’ nice. Not just there, but right there, with all the other kitties in the park.
“Perhaps there is something dim, distant, profane, tender looking out for you – it cannot be everywhere at once, and it cannot stop your fur from being spray-painted, but it is looking out for you, no matter where you may be in the park”
I am closer to believing in God right this second than I’ve been in, I don’t know, at least a decade?
Sweet baby Jeebus, you took the words right out of my head. Thank you for articulating my exact feelings!
Right? Between this and maybe being doomed to Squaresville for eternity, I feel my non-belief is a bit shaken.
I like thinking that if one resonates with Bubbles, then one stays out of Squaresville! But if we are doomed to Squaresville, I’ll save you a seat in the hand basket.
Sent from my iPad
Is Bubbles, then, a Prophet?
*mind blown*
OH!!! Now THAT’S interesting…! Which prophet, though?
Sent from my iPad
This? This and the lil’ piggy in the warm bath way back? They go right to some otherwise unreachable part of my soul.
And since this is the hardest Monday for me in a very very long time and since there will be things to be endured and gotten through, you clearly wrote this precisely for me and so I am the kitty and you are my Bubbles.
Probably burdocks instead of bird ox but the image of kitties with bird-sized oxen stuck to them is pretty amazing
“probably”: the new “actually”
It’s actually a not-uncommon alternative spelling and I have NO DOUBT it is the one Bubbles would use
thank you, thank you mallory; thank you uploader, thank you trailer park boys, this is all i needed. there is good on this hell earth.
My sweetie has been harping on me for a while that, “You NEED to watch The Trailer Park Boys! You’d love it!” and now I’m actually agreeing with her.
This post, right here, captures the TPB brilliance to characterize Bubbles as The Fool (did I get that right? I haven’t taken any English Lit courses in a very long time) and using his compassion as a foil to the darker aspects of the show.
And thank you, Mallory, for using the TPB to brighten my Monday; I could use a guardian angel named Bubbles right now, man, it would be nice.
I love this show from deepest depths of my Canadian soul. And also, last week I met some people from Nova Scotia with this accent and it was amazing.
An entire branch of my family tree speaks with this accent, to the utter delight of my Ontario-based social circle.
Burdocks. They are burdocks.
Steve French is the best thing I never knew I needed in my life. Steve French is the real-deal Lion from Steven Universe. Steve French could shit on every single seat in my car and it would be okay, because he is a giant purring mountain lion and I love him more than life itself.