doom, gloom and pantaloons
well it's been a gloomy week in lake wobegon -- i know this because all the shirts i hung on the line were variations on a theme, the theme being black. when and why did i become such a gloomy motherfucker?
i thought about this a bit and concluded there's a lot to be gloomy about! while creeping through the clusterfuck on the interstate this morning i came up with this list:
Reasons to Be Gloomy
-- people. there are fucking too many of them. they get in accidents on I-95 and make me late for work. they buy houses around me and where there used to be “yield” signals there are now long-cycled signals. they honk at me when i ride my bike and they buy up all the fresh gluten-free bread so that there is none left for me. selfish bastards.
-- candycorn. i eat too much of it, fall asleep at my desk for a while and when i come to and find i am NOT skipping through a sunny field with a herd of beagle puppies i am understandably gloomy.
-- evanescence. evanescence is shite but i still listen to them and they make me gloomy.
-- i called norman mailer boring and now he is dead. the BBC rebroadcast an interview with norman mailer this morning, and i was mistaken: he is not boring. he believes in reincarnation, though when asked to predict his next incarnation, he demurred. when that four-way stop by the chinese community center is replaced by a light, norman mailer will come back as the signal which will always turn red for me because i called him boring when really i was only talking about The Executioner's Song. which, for being boring, was also very gloomy.
-- my dog will probably die before me. i know this should prompt me to be in the moment and all but it still glooms me the fuck out. i bet your dog is not as cute, smart and YouTube worthy as mine. stick around and I will tell you all about my dog. i better do this soon, before he dies.
-- according to an email i just received, "your sexual stamina depends on your pen!ile size" [sic] and my pen!le size is roughly that of a penc!le-eraser. not fair. very gloomy.
so as you can see, there are some real barbarians at the gate, what with pen!le !ssues, finite dogs, norman mailer's revenge etcetera. OTOH the new NIN album has leaked. and there are jellybeans in the kitchen.
11 comments:
And you are not an Ent. Right this moment in time that alone is good enough reason for me to be pretty dapper about life in general.
a perspicacious observation, as our war on Ents is going well, too.
also submitting this for your review:
And we can run, albeit maybe notquite at 100%.
And it's thurs, which means trail with laf.
And it's raining.
And maybe he will wear a white shirt.
And there is lotion in the bathroom.
byebye!
Mmmmmmitightywhiteywettymannipples.
And tomorrow is friday which means we have made it through another iffy week.
a megaiffy week in which i learned that when TSA security pulls you aside because "YOU have been SELECTED for a RANDOM SECURITY CHECK" and you retort "don't make it sound like a prize, pal" you most certainly will miss your flight.
lesson learned.
but Mmmmmmitightywhiteywettymannipples?
we most certainly are for those.
aww fuck on the security check, hope you decompress soon, although a friend of a friend got an extra special border patrol check years back and it took him eons to get over it...
Sounds nasty, what do they do?
i simply got the "everything rifled, swabbed, turned on and painstakingly examined" which took fucking forever but did not leave me *permanently* mentally damaged.
kath pray tell what an "extra special border patrol check" entails. it had better come with a happy ending.
The guy has never spoken of it directly with me, I'm assuming we're talking strip/cavity search.
He got caught with a bowl at the Canadian border...
BTW, TSA is extremely unpleasant to deal with even without the random security check. The only way I got through a recent trip through the same airport was to have veddy cute 3 yr old with me, don't want to think about what it would have been like if Mayra hadn't been charming everyone she met...
at least your friend was in the northern command and not the southern.
i do wonder about the calibre of people hired for these positions. as if traveling weren't stressful enough, you have to deal with people who have no business dealing with people.
ah finn ya better plan to die young. here i am nudging up to the three score years and ten, only a few off the ten and i think is that it?
i've got a string of medical ailments that would make me a whole year's study specimen for bright new doctors-to-be, none of which ailments are fixable;
i won't see the Zambezi again;
i won't see Scotland again;
when i walk i get tired, when i get tired i lie around, when i lie around i get fat, so i walk and get more tired --- a (probably anti-clockwise) spiral down the gurgler;
i haven't won the photographer-of-the-year yet;
one of my daughters won't have anything to do with me;
i have run out of tissues.
"Rejoice, my friends or weep with sorrow; what California is today, the world will be tomorrow." Maybe that quote is out of date now.
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