Andrea Gibson "Letter to My Dog, Exploring the Human Condition" @ Underground Arts, Apr. 13, 2015

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  • čas přidán 27. 08. 2024
  • Andrea Gibson was goaded into reciting this poem while holding Squash, the dog to whom it is addressed. The sweetest, most tender hilarity ensued.
    www.andreagibso...

Komentáře • 10

  • @novemberonathursdaymanymoo7459

    Andrea!!! Omg! Thank u!

  • @punpriti
    @punpriti Před 6 lety +3

    ❤️❤️❤️ I love Andrea a lot and Squash is too adorable 😘

  • @sarapearson7994
    @sarapearson7994 Před 8 lety +3

    melts my heart every time I watch

  • @thomascampbell350
    @thomascampbell350 Před 4 lety +1

    My dog passed away six months ago and the last time I listened to this was when he was in my arms. A dog hold such a special place in our hearts and sometimes we don’t realize how much they mean to us until they’re gone

    • @Finesse1178
      @Finesse1178  Před 4 lety +1

      💜 to you, friend. You are too right. 💜

  • @skylerlyons2324
    @skylerlyons2324 Před 9 lety +7

    Thank you for sharing this!! Andrea is my favorite!

  • @babanlava
    @babanlava Před 7 lety +3

    This is one of her most entertaining videos yet!

  • @FieldsofTrenzalore
    @FieldsofTrenzalore Před 5 lety +3

    awww i wish andrea would have let themselves cry. this was beautiful though :')

  • @rekatoth9931
    @rekatoth9931 Před 3 lety

    Letter to My Dog, Exploring the Human Condition
    Dear squash
    Aka squashy
    Aka squishy
    Aka squasharooni Gibson
    Aka squish squash and you don’t stop
    Aka miracle button
    Aka little perfect peanut
    Aka my beating heart with fur and legs
    I know you think it’s insane that I still poop in the house
    That I choose to wear underwear and pants giving no one the opportunity to smell my true disposition
    That on the days I need to feel better about myself I don’t just pee on someone’s pee
    Don’t worry. I am not fooled by my thumbs
    I know I am not the tadpole’s final project
    I know I am not the last species evolution hopes to become
    I can’t even swallow my own pride long enough to let myself drool when something smells delicious
    What must you think of my mirror face
    Or how much of my day I spend practicing my butch voice
    My baby-I’ll-fix-your-carburetor-with-my-tool-kit voice when you know full well there is nothing in my tool kit besides a massive collection of self help books that have helped me do nothing but feng shui the skeletons in my closet
    Don’t you just love how that femur accents the sofa set, squash
    I’m sorry I cry every time I take you to the vet
    I’m sorry they take your temperature like that
    I’m sorry I take you there when you’ve only got a bug bite
    Humans hold so tight to the leash of life but you will roll in anything dead and wear it like perfume
    I wish I had your nose for eternity
    I wish I could see what you see
    Where the squirrels satan your eyes
    Where the postman deserves to die even when he’s not bringing bills
    What’s with hating the shadow the peace lily makes on the floor in the living room?
    I know I let you down everyday I choose not to murder the vacuum
    Is it bad that I refuse to teach you to not be afraid of men
    Is it bad that I want you to keep your bite and your snarl and your gleaming teeth
    Is it bad that when they call you a risk, I call you a feminist
    You never make fun of your friend Chloe’s underbite
    Or your friend willow’s limp
    Or your friend Harvey’s past trouble with the law
    You never criticize me for being too uptight to let my hair down even though you can let yours all the way out
    All over my black hoody, my black pants, the couch, the car, the chair, the online merch store that sells my books and tee-shirts wrote me a letter saying “we can’t continue to sell your products if they continue to be covered in so much of your dog’s hair"
    I just assumed anything covered in you would increase in value
    Remember when I told that woman I loved her and whispered in your ear “you’re my number one girl” it’s true
    If I could I would put your beating heart in my mouth and suck on it like a piece of candy so I could finally understand how you got so sweet
    I know my therapist likes you more than she likes me
    And I still let you sleep on her couch
    You taught me a good nap is the best therapy
    You taught me to sit when I damn well want to sit
    I don’t care that you never talk about capitalism or patriarchy or the heteronormative hegemonic paradigm
    I know you’re saving the world every time you get poo stuck in your butt hair and you don’t go looking for someone to blame
    Speaking of looking for someone
    I can’t imagine what you think of sex
    I can’t tell if you think it’s a slobbering badly boundaried belly rub or a poorly aimed fist fight
    You just perch on the end of the bed and tilt your head back and forth
    Wondering why I still haven’t taken my pants off
    I have issues, Squash
    Humans have issues
    We dig holes to bury our own hearts
    We chew on our own bones
    We escape the predators but still can’t shake them off
    Some of us wear our own bodies the way your friend Berlin wore that cone around her head, remember?
    So embarrassed, but I never had a better teacher that came to my own spirit than you
    Never had a reason to stop playing dead until the day I saw your little face at the shelter
    Your little nose pressed against the cold glass, staring up at me like I was a gay Noah’s ark
    My heart
    My heart
    My heart
    Every time I give you a treat, you run around the house looking for a place to hide it until you finally come to where I am sitting and hide it directly under me
    The most important thing I have ever built in my whole life is your trust
    May you always feel entitled to more than your fair share of the bed
    May you always tear the stuffing out of every toy I give you
    So I can constantly be reminded to keep spilling my guts
    To keep saying I don’t know how I will ever make peace with the shortness of your life span
    But I promise to make sure you know you are so loved every second you are here
    You know my hands will build the sturdiest ark they possibly can
    To hold your holy howl and your holy bark and your holy beg
    Squasharooni Gibson
    My little perfect peanut
    My beating heart with fur and legs

  • @blackmore4
    @blackmore4 Před 7 lety +1

    Christ... maybe we humans deserve her but what the fuck have dogs done?