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the latest waddle:

good morning, wordpress - 10:36 a.m. , 2009-07-03

elaborate murder attempt - 2:56 p.m. , 2009-07-01

building a tractor in the basement - 10:42 a.m. , 2009-06-19

ask no questions tell just a few lies - 3:17 p.m. , 2009-06-09

my long lasting flavor really lasts long - 1:10 p.m. , 2009-06-04


2002-06-21 ... 12:59 p.m.

LISTS ARE SIMPLE LISTS ARE STRAIGHT LISTS ARE LAZY AND LISTS ARE LATE (apologies to David Byrne)

THINGS THAT MYSTIFY ME (by no means an exhaustive list)

1. Those girls who are obstensibly out with their friends having a good time but each of them is secretly checking herself out in the mirror behind the bar, adjusting straps, moving hair, etc. They all want to look like they are too cool for school but there is nothing cool about fretting about minute variations in the way you look and fucking with your hair every ten seconds. Leave it alone. Everyone's drunk anyway, or didn't you notice that?

2. The teeny tiny purses that seem to be in vogue now. They are microscopic and couldn't hold much more than a single breath mint or tampon, and the even weirder thing is that certain girls wear these tiny purses over their shoulders, so the purse basically hangs out in your armpit and it looks like a large leather armpit tumor. (Large Leather Armpit Tumor might not be a bad name for a hardcore album.) Is that comfortable? It doesn't look comfortable.

3. That some people (apparently, by their own admission) mostly feel happy and secure and comfortable and 100% engaged with the world. They don't feel prickly and weird. They don't have an awkward relationship with the universe and get really depressed about the massive amount of stuff contained therein and the teeming heap of humanity that struggles along on Earth's surface. They don't feel like they have a sign on their foreheads that says LONELY NO MATTER WHAT, NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU LOVE ME.

(3a. Can everyone just agree to ignore #3? Let's pretend I never said that. Next thing you know I'll be copying the lyrics to Black Celebration into my notebook and scratching at my arm with a pen cap like some lame-ass self-absorbed melodramatic teenager.)

4. That they named this thing the Spare Bladder. I guess that's what it is. But why not name it something nicer? It is just as mystifying as the word "headcheese." Why not name it something nicer, like Yummy Loaf or some other euphemism? (Note: this sentence from that headcheese link is THE BEST: "Headcheese is a seasoned loaf made of the head meat of a calf or pig in its natural aspic." Now read it again. Slower. Read it a third time. First, linger on "seasoned loaf." Then on "head meat." Now stagger to the nearest bar and order a double. Wash those phrases out of your head with a cleansing tide of bourbon. Whew.)

5. Why Lou Barlow and David Foster Wallace are irretrievably and inextricably linked in my mind, to the extent that for me Lou Barlow's voice IS, in some sense, the voice of Infinite Jest. I know it's a false genealogy, etymology, whatever you want to call it, and I know that it most likely stems from the simple fact that I was obsessively listening to Harmacy at the same time I was obsessively reading Infinite Jest (November 1996), but my brain keeps trying to force this coincidence into a more significant truth.

FUNNY/IRONIC

1. Someone I know had her employee performance review recently and it all went very well up until the "other considerations" section, where her supervisor told her that she "had a tendency to get defensive." What do you say to that? Nothing, I guess, if you don't want to dig your hole any deeper.

2. On the way to work I saw a large pile of dog crap with a bright shiny penny sitting on top. I don't know if the dog pooped out the penny or some unlucky soul dropped a penny and it landed right on the dog crap pile. Either way, the "see a penny, pick it up" rule does not apply here. That is no one's lucky penny.

TWO TYPES OF DRUGS

1. Drugs that make things VERY VERY RELEVANT: pot, acid, speed, mushrooms, ecstasy

2. Drugs that make things IRRELEVANT: alcohol, heroin, Xanax, Quaaludes, cocaine

[begin non-list content]

WE PAUSE FOR A PATHETIC LITTLE SHOUT-OUT: Unless you want me to think you are all a bunch of no-goodniks, send me some damn e-mail. I am getting lonely over here in Smartypantsland. Thank you.

A SMALL PARAGRAPH THAT IS MOSTLY THE NAMES OF LAUNDRY DETERGENTS

Gain some Cheer, all ye peoples! Clean clothes are Ultra Fab! Lift your face to the heavens and Shout Yes! Now is the Era in which I do All my wash! We Surf upon the eternal Tide of laundry day.

[end non-list content]

AFTER WORK

1. Buy peanuts and limes so LT and I can cook up some pad thai (if not tonight, then on Sunday).

2. Draw a tepid bath (it is steamily hot here). Open cold beer. Take off clothes, submerge, and get shiny clean and pleasantly relaxed.

4. Put on loud music. (All is loud today in my world. I like it loud.)

5. Change out of the grown-up clothes.

6. Board Western Avenue bus down to Empty Bottle for more loud music.

7. Order an Old Style and be amused by the antics and outfits of hipsters.

---mimi smartypants understands your pain, truly she does.

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