Was this a debate or Last Comic Standing? Did McCain really bring Hitler into it? Not one question about Healthcare? That’s insane! The Democrats and the Republicans are on entirely different planets (and neither of them on Earth). But the Republicans are undeniably worse. Oh Lord, let my enemies be ridiculous. And God granted it.
I just did the lamest thing ever, and by lamest thing ever, naturally I mean that I joined a fan club at a cost in order to be able to buy pre-sale tickets to a particular concert, only to find out immediately afterward that pre-sale seats are not necessarily better than general sale seats and can, in fact, be worse. Obviously I do not go to a lot of concerts as I find them mostly disappointing.
On the bright side, I will (negating deaths, serious illnesses, natural disasters or alien abductions and other assorted unforeseen circumstances) be seeing Alanis Morissette with Matchbox Twenty and Mute Math on Friday, February 29, 2008, regardless of how much money I throw at tickets.
I saw Alanis in 2005 on the Jagged Little Pill Acoustic tour which was outstanding: I had never seen her in person before. And I haven’t seen M20 since 1998. I told Ryan that I wanted to see them before their expiry date was up. He told me that was in 1999. Maybe, but I’m adamant that they were still good until 2004.
Someone reminded me today that Michael Moore’s Sicko was available. So I got it and just finished. Maybe if you eat something minty while watching, you won’t end up with that disgusting American aftertaste in your mouth (like asbestos and zoloft with a hint of mercury).
We really do need a revolution, and I’m not talking about the modern American kind: forwarding a scathing email attack, “click[ing] here” to send a personalized copy of this petition to your senator, not buying gasoline on December 1st (and instead doing it on the 2nd)…
Sometimes I have to remind myself that, beyond my ego, I am primarily a robot programmed to eat Cheetos and drink soda and fear my government and react accordingly to whatever’s the Boogeyman at the moment and ask my doctor about new medications. It can be an uphill battle.
We need a real revolution. I’d love to see Americans just stop going to work. All of them. I think that’s what a revolution today would look like. It’s about the easiest thing us lazy Americans could do, but how many of us are willing to sacrifice our comforts and amenities? Very few, I think. Gods forbid we live without air conditioning until our government breaks.
Most of us can’t even be bothered to vote.
Spit.
I’m a fan of most cookies, but I have a close personal relationship with that of the fortune variety. I know it’s dumb, but I can’t help it. I get take out every Friday night for the fortune cookie. The food’s okay, too. But I don’t think they have any validity if you get a fortune cookie more than, say, once per week, on a regular basis. Fortune cookies are your destiny! That one cookie was made for your mouth only. And you have to finish your food before eating the cookie or else you’ve ruined your life. I’m only superstitious about fortune cookies. Because they are fate.
Sometimes they’re utter shite. But other times, I have to wonder.
I’ve let the last four collect inside the lotus bowl in the hands of my Buddha statue (ha!). In the chronological order of their receipt:
“Take that chance you’ve been considering.” Vague and generic, but “that chance” it speaks of is all-consuming and never leaves my mind. Ever. There’s really only one I’m considering. It would lead to subsequent chances, but it is the preliminary chance that must be taken.
“You will never need to worry about a steady income.” See above. But still, if the past is a good indicator of the future, I’m not putting all my fortune cookies in this jar. Will I never worry because my death is imminent? Because of the prophecies for 2012? Because the value of a dollar will soon be that of a peso? All of the above?
“You will have a close encounter of a surprising kind.” I did have said close encounter. It was no good. I was very surprised. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.
“You will be unusually successful in an entertainment career.” If fortunes were horses… Now this one could mean all sorts of things from fronting a band, to writing, to balancing midgets on my nose in a circus. Either way, it’s success and I’ll take it!
They may be as vague as any horoscope, but I don’t believe in coincidence. In some way or another, these all collide with my current juxtaposition in an eerie way. I figure that either the future for me is bright, or that the universe is trying to tell me to quit my job, move into the woods and survive on berries and small woodland creatures whilst composing my manifesto. Only time will tell, but I promise signed first editions to everyone on my buddy list.
Can be found here. I’m definitely doing this. You will know about it when it happens.
A young woman I work with forfeited her job a few days ago. We consented to random drug testing when we were hired, and she made us all acutely aware of her cracked-outness this particular day. Her hair was a mess, which is unheard of for this self-described “former model,” she went through two boxes of Kleenex tissues in one day, her cubemate found a white powder near her desk (which she admittedly tasted to “confirm” her suspicions… this is me giving you a blank stare and throwing both arms in the air), and then there was the generic jittery exacerbating all-encompassingly cracked-outness that she continually displayed. What I’m getting at is that you don’t need to lick her desk to know that she is, in fact, a crackhead.
She’s been on a bender since her ex-fiancee broke up with her in July. I might be more sensitive if I didn’t think this wasn’t more than just November Sweeps or fodder for her forthcoming E! True Hollywood Story.
Anyway, people started talking, and eventually her boss decided to have our driver take her down to the lab that very moment for a drug test and immediately bring her back. The results take half an hour, max. Fastforward. The test came back clean for drugs, but the results were still fishy. Her boss decided to send her down to the same lab for another test. She refused to go and thereby forfeited her job.
The next morning, I found out that another employee had been fired over this as well. How many people does it take for a crackhead to pass a drug test? More than two, apparently. This second person was seen exiting the restroom with our resident crackhead only moments before her ride to the lab, and upon questioning, broke down and admitted everything.
The important detail is that she admitted urinating into an Excedrin bottle, which our resident crackhead then inserted “into her HOO-HAA” [sic].
The worst part, at least for me, is that I caught myself wondering whether or not this was one of the regular bottles or the large, economy size.
It’s a bumpy ride to the lab.
