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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
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AN OPEN, SECRET LETTER TO MY BOSS Yeah, I was late this morning. Thanks for all the passive-aggressive, faux-cheery comments, like "Good morning! We were wondering when you were going to get here!" I called you from the train and left a message about the lateness, but I could not call you earlier because I was busy. By which I mean, getting busy. And you know what? Hooray for me, because I am always horny in the mornings and between this job and LT's morning gym routine I never get to satisfy those urges. My lateness will be more than made up for by my rosy glow and cheerful demeanor. LINKED FOR HER PLEASURE There is a prize for the world's oldest mouse. Rapture letters. Pardon me for being dense, but how will "the computer program" know that this so-called rapture (hey! that could be a good TV show about a disaffected teen, afflicted with the Mark Of The Beast!) is the real thing? I would like to see the algorithm for this. North Korea makes some formulaic pop-punk propaganda! Woo hoo! Guaranteed to stick in your head all day. My head switched the Korean vocals with Jello Biafra's voice, maybe yours will too. It seems to fit.
This comes too late, but provides a good overview of why California could very well be screwed: Fifty reasons not to vote for Arnold. What is with you, California? For thousands of years England had the "Hunchbacked Syphilitic King" system of government, and now you guys seem to be stuck in the "Any Old Nutball Can Put Any Old Thing On The Ballot" system of government. At least with the syphilitic king there is always the peasants-with-pitchforks option, but you guys are just screwed. I take it you did not receive a MacArthur "genius grant" and that is why you are back on my dumb web page instead of reading whatever geniuses read. I didn�t receive one either, which is why I too am still typing here instead of on the domain of the geniuses. I am also at work, which is definitely not the domain of the geniuses ("Mimi, is the October stuff filed with October?" "Yes. Also, A is still A.") THE CONTINUING LAZY DIARIST'S SAGA OF POSTING MODERATELY FUNNY CHAT TRANSCRIPTS smartypantsmimi: There is a new Thai restaurant on Addison called TASTE NOODLE. I say: Quit telling me what to do. sirilyan: So EAT A DAMN TACO YOU MORON is not the best name for my new caf�. smartypantsmimi: CAKE YOU MUST CONSUME, my new bakery. sirilyan: MANDATORY SUSHI. smartypantsmimi: IF YOU WANNA BE MY LOVER YOU GOTTA GET WITH MY FRIED CHICKEN. I ATTEMPT TO DISTRACT MYSELF Remember in the 1980s (which, as everyone knows, lasted until the early 1990s) when everything was made of turkey? Well, not things like the sky or buildings, but lots of food was made out of turkey. Turkey hot dogs and turkey bacon. What were these products going for? Turkey (at least processed turkey) is known as a rather bland meat, so were the 1980s a time of a longing for undifferentiated infantile sensation? But at the same time there was the contradictory "clear food" trend! Crystal Pepsi! Zima!* Cola is usually blackish, like sleep, like good heroin, like movie theaters, like wallowing in the aforementioned undifferentiated infantile sensation. and here comes this clear cola, this clear intoxicating beverage! Clarity! Consciousness! So confusing! Are we supposed to be clear-headed Apollonian adults or blindly grasping sensation-seeking infants? Neither Crystal Pepsi nor Zima did well, which may give you some clue. *Intoxicants should not be clear. Vodka and gin are fine in their place, and I like a gin and tonic once in a while, but the very best intoxicants are murky, and give you some depth to peer into---bourbon, beer, wine, coffee, swirling opaque bong smoke. Now everything is either antibacterial or free of trans-fats, so I guess in this particular decade we consumers are supposed to concern ourselves with the microscopic. Please forget I said anything. SYNTAX ERROR 1. You probably did not receive last Sunday's Bears/Raiders game in your area, because why in the world would any sane station broadcast such a Battle Of The Incompetents? But we watched it anyway, and were gratified by the last-second Bears win, and I was further gratified by the play-by-play guy making this comment concerning a brutal tackle: "Wow! He really shagged him from the backside!" Seriously, this was said. I rewound it twice to be sure. I wish there was more shagging from the backside in football, it could liven up a lot of dull games. 2. We have a new voicemail system at work and now it tells me that I can change my "personal options" by pressing 1. I can go to grad school, become a lesbian, go work at the paper-clip factory, or marry a swarthy Greek guy and settle down in the suburbs. All at the push of a button. 3. Inexplicably-worded sign in the window of a nail salon on State Street: We will now be closed "every Sunday" due to Winter. I AM NOT CONCERNED WITH SYNTAX ANY LONGER But rather I am concerned with the HOLY CRAP as we probably leave MONDAY for China. As in THIS MONDAY. YES. As in, YOU NEED TO CANCEL ALL YOUR WEEKEND PLANS AND INSTEAD PACK AND DO BABY LAUNDRY AND MAKE THE MOTHER OF ALL TARGET RUNS. I am excited, but I am also all clammy with fear. MONDAY. Last night LT and I were all sad about not yet having travel dates, so we took ourselves out for high-end sushi, which was nice except that we kind of want to be eating high-end sushi with a highchair at the end of the table and The Eggroll in it, stuffing pieces of fried tofu into her mouth. And then this morning I checked the weather report and it mentioned Tropical Storm Nora and I thought, This Is A Sign. Tropical Storm Nora, can you believe it? My daughter must be cranky today! And then later, boom: a consulate date and tentative travel plans, and in order to see big Beijing we need to leave Monday. Holy smokes. Well, see you later and stuff. I promise to take copious notes while in China. ---mimi smartypants, nothing to declare. back/forward |
