True Confessions of an Idiot
The Twisted Tales and
Maniacal Rants of Vicki Robison
Although Ms. Robison is a new author, her natural talent for comedy would cause one to believe that she's a seasoned pro.
Ms. Robison, self-described as a lesbianized mix of Erma Bombeck and Andy Rooney, writes of her personal humorous experiences in True Confessions of an Idiot. Entries include "Gassing the Dinner Guests," "The Funky Christmas Tree," "How I Super-Glued My Tooth to My Eye," "The Flesh-Eating Virus Scare" and "How to Kill a Toenail," just to name a few.
A must for any comedy fan, True Confessions of an Idiot is guaranteed to induce side-splitting laughter.
Excerpt from "The Funky Christmas Tree"
I’m not sure which of the two of us came up with the brilliant idea of leaning against the tree in an attempt to bend it back and forth until it broke away from it’s earthbound trunk, but that’s exactly what we attempted to do.
So Edna and I, with all our weight, (and I had much more weight to contribute than did she) leaned against the tree until the tree top was touching the ground. We were straining to push the tree down far enough so that it would snap, but the strain was getting to be too much for us. In an attempt to put more strength into the endeavor, I shifted my weight a bit to get a better foothold. I did not realize how much weight I had shifted though, so for a brief moment, Edna’s body was doing most of the work. Unfortunately, Edna’s little body was not capable of pulling off such a task and the tree catapulted her away.
I watched her limp body fly through the air and land about six to eight feet in front of me. The unfortunate incident only lasted for two or three seconds—or at least, that’s all that I was able to observe, because just a few seconds after Edna had been catapulted from her previous location, the tree proved that it was stronger than I was and catapulted me too.
One would think that a 100 pound body would fly farther than a 200 pound body, but that’s not the case. The tree shot me to the same location where Edna had landed. Again, the process only took a couple of seconds, so although Edna saw me coming, she didn’t have the opportunity to move out of the way and avoid being a target.
I landed on top of Edna—I landed hard—knocking the wind out of both of our bodies. We were both in a combination of pain and hysterics, but neither of us could muster up enough air to laugh.
After we had both caught our breaths and decided that snapping the tree in two wasn’t a very good idea, I finally got the chainsaw going and cut down the cagey Christmas tree.
We carried the tree back to the car, tied it on top and took it home—which is where we were able to see how truly ugly it was. That tree, forever known to us as “The Funky Christmas Tree,” inspired a song by the same name.