Thursday, April 30, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Monday, April 20, 2009
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Monday, April 13, 2009
Saturday, April 11, 2009
I had to listen to some old bastard complain for an hour last night at work. It’s about what I imagine the exact center of Hell to be like because the customer’s complaint was circular, he was right, and since I’m new to the job, I couldn’t think of anything to counter his unwavering logic. It was like arguing with an angry genius, only he was a raspy hillbilly who happened to know more about the subject than me. I’ve chalked up the evening as pure karma because only hours before, I was in a more outer orbit of Hell at my other job. There, no amount of rephrasing could make my teenaged student understand the theme of Tillie Olsen’s awesome “I Stand Here Ironing.” I first tried explaining in words, then puppets, then primary-colored blocks, but when I finally realized she was chasing butterflies in outer space and not actually sitting beside me, I stared intensely at her in an attempt to transfer my thoughts directly into hers. She stared back, her mouth half open, her expression remote and disoriented, and I knew no wheels were turning behind her pretty eyes. I left her to reflect on our session while I thumped my head against a wall in frustrated privacy.
I guess the universe needed to balance the siphoning of my energy between young and old sources. Well done, Universe. By my highly scientific estimation, I lost a solid week of life during those two exchanges: 3.5 days from the aloof density of a child and 3.5 from the relentless bombardment of a crotchety old man. I'd rather have been shanked and robbed crossing the parking lot to my car.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
2003: Small birds kill other small birds and eat just their heads. I watched this, again, wide-eyed while parked in my car, listening to the radio before work.
2009: The diameter of a grackle’s vagina is approximately 3mm. I saw one as it post-coitally closed after her mate dismounted. The experience was less traumatic than 1991 and less unsettling than 2003, but it was strange and pornographic, and I almost wrecked my car.
After the bird vagina, I had to speak out.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
On a completely different subject, I’ve added some wonderful new features to my gorgeous blog. They are as follows:
1. You may now demonstrate your love and devotion to me by becoming one of the “Really Cool People” who walk in the long shadow of my brilliance, but only if you’re Googlers, I think. I’ll probably remove it in a few weeks out of shame and embarrassment for not having any more than one subscriber (thank you, Sharon, for standing bold and alone as my one and number one fan). We’ll see. I plan to launch an aggressive campaign to capture all you readers still on the fence as to whether or not you want to commit to the sheer comedy I represent.
2. I also added some generic advertisements that are spawned by gremlins in my computer whenever a page is loaded. The content of these beauties is based on the foul things I write about, so the more creative I get, the more intrinsically precious my blog becomes. Needless to say, the entertainment value of what’s been generated thus far has outweighed the initial disgrace I felt over trying to profit from what I consider a hack business (blogging). But now, you too can locate single black women in even a rural area, and if you’re a Christian housewife, there’s a butt-load of cash to be made by simply converting to Judaism and writing a memoir of your sacrifice.
It’s all there, folks, in the tight column to your left.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
"Death Letter Blues"
I got a letter this morning. How do you reckon it read?
It said, "Hurry, the gal you love is dead"
I got a letter this morning. How do you reckon it read?
You know, it said, "Hurry, hurry, because the gal you love is dead"
I grabbed up my suitcase, took off down the road
When I got there she was laying on the cooling board
I grabbed up my suitcase, and I said and I took off down the road
I said, but when I got there she was laying on a cooling board
Well, I walked up right close, looked down in her face
Said, the good ol' gal got to lay here 'til Judgment Day
I walked up right close, and I said I looked down in her face
The good ol' gal got to lay here 'til Judgment Day
Looked like there was 10,000 people standing 'round the burying ground
I didn't know I loved her 'til they laid her down
Looked like 10,000 standing 'round the burying ground
You know I didn't know I loved her 'til they began to lay her down
Well, I folded up my arms and I slowly walked away
I said, "Farewell, honey. I'll see you Judgment Day"
Yes, I slowly walked away
I said, "Farewell, farewell. I'll see you Judgment Day"
You know I didn't feel so bad, 'til the good ol' sun went down
I didn't have a soul to throw my arms around
I didn't feel so bad, 'til the good ol' sun went down
You know, I didn't have nobody to throw my arms around
You know, it's so hard to love someone that don't love you
Ain't no satisfaction, don't care what in the world you do
Yeah, it's hard to love someone that don't love you
You know it don't look like satisfaction, don't care what in the world you do
Well, I got up this morning, the break of day
A-huggin' the pillow where she used to lay
I got up this morning, about the break of day
You know I was huggin' the pillow where my good gal used to lay
Got up this mornin', feeling round for my shoes
You know, I must-a had them old walkin' blues
Got up this morning, feeling round for my shoes
Yeah, I know by then, I must have had the walkin' blues
Oh Hush! Thought I heard her call my name
It wasn’t so loud so nice and plain.