Well, I’m at home for the week due to some possible (but not likely) cardiac issues. As I operate Heavy Machinery, my doctors are a bit overly cautious when I begin to get dizzy and have chest pain. I explained to them that I had been feeling fine till the cocaine/hooker/donkey bender in Tijuana last weekend, but still they want me to take a stress test on Friday. So here I am and there you are reading the outpourings of my bored (but probably not broken), lonely heart.
In no particular order, some thoughts running through my mind like Haitian looters at a Sam’s Club:
First of all, is it too early to be making the Haitian jokes? Have we moved on to Chile yet? I’ve been enjoying my new plasma TV, so sort of out of the loop on this one. Is the world rushing to Chile’s aid the way they did with Haiti? Is the United States being lambasted once again for doing too little, too late? The way it looks to me, the rest of the world expects us to be air-dropping hospitals and 7-11s within sixty minutes of any catastrophe. Have we done that yet? I hope so, I’m tired of being ‘the bad guy’.
The only reason I knew the Winter Olympics were on is because they interrupted a Judge Judy I had on the TiVo. Are they over yet? Honestly, I barely give a damn about the real Olympics, let alone the ‘Winter’ ones. And what makes Winter so special? Perhaps we should start a Spring and Fall Olympics as well. Why the fuck not? Everything is a sport nowadays: volleyball, chess, paint ball, NASCAR, juggling, Twister, origami; just shove all that crap into the Spring and Fall games so that everyone, everywhere will be recognized for their special contribution to humanity. I’m looking at you, guy-who-hops-on-one-foot-for-hours. Your Time is at Hand.
Because I know bit more than a smattering about the Bible, everyone assumes I’m ‘saved’. Moreover, they always assume I’m ‘saved’ in exactly the same way they are. Different people at work are convinced I am an Evangelical, Pentecostal, Baptist, and Primitive Baptist among other denominations. Primitive Baptist? Makes me think of a caveman. Captain Caveman. Captain Caveman on a Cross. That’s an interesting picture, at least for those of you who remember Captain Caveman.
For those of you who don’t, Captain Caveman was an unthawed caveman who fought crime on Saturday Mornings. I think he had a team of hot chicks with him, but don’t quote me on that. Anyhow, he was just another Hanna-Barbara cartoon reject. Like all failed Hanna-Barbara characters he finally made his way to the Laff-A-Lympics, which was the kind of cartoon you watched because a) you were stoned or b) were growing up in the late 70′ and didn’t have a choice.
No, really, you didn’t have a choice. We had three TV channels back then. I know, fucking barbaric.
Speaking of the electronic arts:
Please, please, motherfucking please don’t tell me ‘just one part’ of a movie I’m looking forward to seeing. Invariably people who do this describe to you the absolute best scene, the highlight of the movie, and now it’s ruined. If I tell you I’m wanting to see a movie you’ve seen, just say ‘Let me know when you do so we can discuss it.’
I think it’s great your five-month old is talking, your two year old is reading in English as well as Mandarin Chinese, and your six year old is getting ready to go public with the Internet start-up she began in your garage. My kids? Well, as for my sons, they still shit on themselves a lot. My daughter has (mostly) better control, but at least her career goals are narrowing. This week she wants to be a Cop-Fireman-Cat-Doctor-Dinosaur-Astronaut. Also, her favorite color is purple and red and blue.
I know my kids aren’t as accomplished or cosmopolitan as yours, and we should both be OK with that. At Christmas I’ll get your kid a slide rule and you can get mine some toys. Win-win.
My wife gets prettier and prettier as the years go by.
I’ve finally given in and am going to see a dietitian. I work out, I am eating healthier and healthier, and still can’t lose weight. It’s aggravating, but at least I’m not a woman. The pressure on women to be slim in this country is comparable to one of those Road Runner cartoon’s ACME Anvils that were always being dropped on the coyote’s head. I don’t now how women deal with it. Maybe that’s how the Burka was invented? Some Muslim women were just tired of the weighting game and threw on some mu-mus. Muslim Husband: ‘…Interesting new look, dear.’ Muslim Wife: ‘I’m doing it out of decency. I don’t want other men looking at me with lust, this body is for your eyes only.’
Hard to argue with that logic. Plus, dressing in the morning has to be a fucking breeze. And hair/makeup? No worries there, either.
Pretty damn smart.
I guess that’s it for now. Thanks for reading, I hope you are having as good a day as your karma allows for.
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