How I Met Your Mother, I Blame You!

How I Met Your Mother. Amazing, am I right? A very witty plot with original, hysterical punchlines. Catchphrases that make you laugh time and again. A dream cast that plays off each other brilliantly, chemistry flows through all members. The entire plot cloaked like magic but also seeming to weave from beginning to end like lyrical gold.

I am a fan. My beef is not with the series as an entire piece, but just one slice of that masterful dessert.

The Naked Man.

Yes, go ahead and chuckle. “The Naked Man? That s$%t was f@#cking funny!” You all swear a lot in my head. Filthy.

I assure you I am not a prude. I thoroughly believe that it is only those who sleep naked that can truly fly in their dreams. Or some s$%t.

I also have a wonderful and slightly dark sense of humor. I once called after my 7 year old son while he was fleeing the living room where a Weird Al Yankovic documentary played, “Wait, don’t you want to see how he made the weasel stomping sounds?”

My grief with the Naked Man comes from experience.

I was sitting upstairs in the bedroom. My boyfriend and I were discussing the difference between fears and phobias after I had snuck a Mr. Bean dual dvd set in my 21 year old sister’s Easter Basket. My sister is afraid of Mr. Bean.

I was arguing that, while I was teasing her, it wasn’t that terrible because fears aren’t as bad as phobias. A phobia is irrational and panicky, like a phobia of baked beans. A fear is “Oooh! That clown is scary!”I am not saying that there aren’t people irrationally afraid of clowns, I am saying that clowns are creepy.

I have ichthyophobia. The irrational fear of fish for those who didn’t go open another tab to Google it. If I see a fish I will freak the f#$k out. I will. Blob fish are in my nightmares. I used to have a phobia of lobsters. Not a lot of people know that a lobster used to make me burst into tears. It took a very long time to outgrow that phobia. Now I just think they are creepy.

My boyfriend N starts to talk about my fear of fish. He starts talking about different types of fish, I tell him to knock it off. He jokes about surprising me with fish. I say that would be mean, a fear for me would be lobsters or old age. He says he’ll order lobster next anniversary, I say “Unless you wanna be wearing it. I’d be pissed. There better be a freaking diamond to make up for it.” N gasps and says “That’s how I’ll propose, I’ll put the ring on the little antenna!”

The thought of taking a ring of off…. touching with my bare hands… the little black eyes….

The room spins, and I start to panick. My brain comforts me with images of other terrifying sea creatures. N sees me panicking. He starts to try and comfort me by placing his arms on me. I am imagining his hands have suddenly become jellyfish…

N gets a strange look on his face. He sticks out the tip of his tongue from the side of his mouth.He pulls down his boxers.

“Maybe this will take your mind off of it!” He says with a flurish.

My heart pauses. My jaw drops. No one says anything for 5 minutes. My heart restarts.

“What the fu… what! What were you thinking?!?! Are you kidding meeeeeeee!?!?!”

“Uh,” N shuffles in place.

“Were you really expecting that to work?!?!”

“I’m, uh, I’m just going to…”

And I burst out into laughter. We both laugh for a few minutes until my laughter suddenly turns to sobbing because my fucking boyfriend thought that taking his pants off was a cure for my panick attack.

And that’s how I got an idea for my first blog.


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