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Wednesday, February 27, 2008
“Can you take us for a ride
“Whatever, I don’t care.” replied
And the children didn’t know what to do.
“Help! Help! Timmy has fallen down a mine shaft! Help!” cried Ivan.
“All the adults are away and there is no one who can help him!”
“That’s west.” said
“Won’t you help,
“I don’t know” replied
“B-b-but what about Timmy?”
“Well you know; survival of the fittest and all that.”
“No, I suppose you don’t.”
Eventually Ivan left.
and that was the end of Coco the Ambivalent Mule.
Monday, February 25, 2008
"Ta-Da!" he says holding up his arms in a pose of triumph and victory.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
I'm getting my family a set of these. Maybe 7 sets, so we can all dress the same, all the time.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Happy Valentine's Day to all. And to
those who hate the day, I say this:
Valentine's Day is a Christian
corruption of a pagan festival
involving werewolves, blood and
fucking. So wish people a happy
Horny Werewolf Day and see what
That's just perfect.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
I am tired and empty and I don't have anything to offer to anybody.
Also, I am angry as all fuck.
( I had originally written a whole bunch of other stuff here, but in the cold light of the morning I decided to get rid of it. If you saw it, you saw it, that's fine.)
Monday, February 11, 2008
Saturday, February 9, 2008
The funeral, by the way, was fine. At least as fine as a funeral can be. I was a pallbearer, but I often am at family funerals, and I'm honored to do it really. It was sad, but also okay, and people had a nice time. Which may sound weird, but it made sense if you were there. It felt right. And it was a fitting tribute to my great aunt, I'm sure it made her happy.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
It's these funny little simple pleasures one finds in parenthood.
The Dude is talking while he is eating and it sounds like gibberish, very animated too. And then it starts to sound kind of familiar and I swear to The Great Bird of the Galaxy he's talking in Klingon.
And as an added bonus, after dinner I gave him a cookie and he said "Thank You." It's the little things, it really is.
So, anyway, there's music playing, and they've got an eighties theme going. The company probably paid lots of money to have marketing tests done to find out which music would weaken their target customers. Get them to feel all soft and happy and nostalgic, and then hit them with the ad and make them come in and buy some beef jerky and diet Coke or whatever. Or get so lost in the music that you forget that you only meant to buy ten dollars worth of gas and the meters cranking up to twenty five now.
I'm rocking the debit card when it happens.
The Go-Go's come on. "Our Lips Are Sealed."
I love The Go-Go's.
I could never be a super spy because if I were ever caught and going to be interrogated all they'd have to do was play some Go-Go's and I'd feel all smiley and happy and loose all self control and start spilling state secrets or missile launch codes or whatever.
I'm pumping gas and I have this almost out of control desire to start dancing. In my big barn coat and my clodhopper boots and I'm surrounded by utility trucks and grime and it's cold and my car is 10 years old and covered with salt spray and mud and in my minds eye I'm dancing around like some insane parody of an 80's music video. Plus I'm a fat dude.
I actually think this would look pretty funny. Like a nightmare version of a Whitesnake video, where instead of a sexy, barely dressed woman seductively crawling all over a pristine sports car, you'd have a fat middle aged guy "seductively" rolling over his station wagon. At a gas station. In the winter.
Huh. Makes me laugh.
By the way, for those keeping track of our ages; The Go-Go's are in their fifties.