Godforsaken Client
An email directive from a client regarding the
FIFTH re-shoot of a piece of luggage…
Okay…. now everything starting to shift, so it needs to be straightened:
move zipper puller off of floor.
front bottom “kick stand” needs to be straight up, now it’s leaning backwards.
straighten the brochure left in the second compartment.
laptop sleeve handles look sloppy.
keys need to be less of a focal point, my eyes go right to the keys.
We’re almost there……. thanks.
I’ll be out playing in traffic if anyone needs me.
It would have actually been worse if she closed with a “Thx”…
Brought to you by Fat Tire Amber Ale
I “felt” it necessary…Well hello there fellow christians and non-christians!
I’m a little riled at having access to “Smifs de la Word”, thanks to Miranda & Collene.
This either means that…
a.) there is trust in our relationship(s).
b.) someone was nippin’ at the bottle when they invited me to author a few “word-sayin’s”.
c.) them’s just plain cray-cray in the noggin’ for bestowing me with this awesome, unbridled power.
Seriously, can i really use the description “fucktard” in my missives without someone breaking into my tenement condo, kicking away the splintered door only to drag me out to the hallway to place my mouse hand on a cinderblock & smash it with a….well, you get the idea. Wow. What a kooky ruckus THAT would be. My neighbors would surely lend a hand by peering through their peepholes, (providing they’re not covered in blood) and call 911?! My money is on them turning up their TV’s so as to drown out the noise.
Anyhoo, I have a couple of ideas that have been rattling around in my brain that I would WUV to share with all y’all. And by brain, I mean this…I’ve always pictured my brain as a gourd that’s been hollowed out & dried where the only thing left is one seed…rattling around…Ka-tink! Ka-tink…………….ka…..tink. But it would be a pretty gourd. THIS gourd would be the show-pony of an autumnal* cornucopia display, replete with pretty maroon dried corn and little mini hay bales.
I have every intention to keep abreast of all that happens in my daily commute on the CTA.
Like the time I sat in tinkle. Oh, or the time a lady tore out pages of a magazine, balled them up & threw them at me…or……………stay tuned. Oh, there are some times I might get my arse kicked by trying to photo document some of the transit experiences, but I think every corresponding reporter knows how to gauge the risks…I ask of you, be patient with my excessive use of dots where comma’s and/or semi colons are to be used.
Word up.
KP
*A period of maturity verging on decline.
Well, that speaks volumes.
Intense thoughts
Does one conjugate the verb “bling” the same way one conjugates the verb “drink?” Like bling, blang, blung?
For instance:
When Boutros is 16, he can bling his teeth without my permission.
Until then, I forbid it.
I blang my teeth at Tiffany’s yesterday.
I would have blung my teeth, but silver polish tastes awful.
?
It’s that time of the month club
During my bout of insomnia this evening, er, morning, I found myself wondering why I don’t belong to any “[insert noun] of the month clubs.” How nice would it be to receive a bottle or two of wine per month or a perhaps a thoughtful trio of carefully selected regional cheeses? Why have I been denying myself of this luxury? Clearly I loathe myself. And just to make up for my flagrant self-neglect, I thought, why stop at wine and cheese? Surely there are other monthly delights I could partake of.
Here ladies and gentlemen is where I must pause and profess my undying love for Google. I know this is not a new sentiment by any means, but where else at 1:12 a.m. can you seek and find a mind bogglingly comprehensive list of “of the month clubs?” So comprehensive in fact, I suddenly feel I have been rather sheltered from the world, and can only sit in awe at how our Capitalist Machine has reached such a level of efficiency in the distribution and exchange of goods and services that one does not have to move a single muscle beyond an index finger’s worth of energy to click and then receive one’s specialty offshore fishing lure in the mail every month.
I’m sold!
Specialty offshore fishing lure not your gig? Do the popular monthly fixes of microbrews, chocolates, popcorn, fruits, meats, coffees, teas and other more traditional foodstuffs not suit your fancy? I’m happy to inform the unique souls whom require a road less traveled, you shall not be turned away. There are any number of niche “of the month clubs” just waiting for you:
Licorice of the Month
Book of the Month
BBQ of the Month
Bacon of the Month
God of the Month
Fossil of the Month
Mineral of the Month
Software of the Month
Sock of the Month
Panty of the Month
Condom of the Month
Care Package of the Month
Yarn of the Month
Font of the Month
Carnivorous Plant of the Month
Lobster of the Month
Mustard of the Month (LD!)
Keg of the Month
Button of the Month
There even used to be a Fuck of the Month Club before Dubya and his Holy Minions began cracking down on The Porn. Though I believe this was not a mail order business, I do not put anything past the powerful Capitalist Machine.
Even Murder She Wrote had a ‘Murder of the Month Club’ episode in which, according to the synopsis, “murder, plagiarisim and blackmail stalk those around Jessica on her promotional book tour.” Poor Jessica Fletcher, how The Troubles do tend to follow her so. If I may digress for a moment, if you were Jessica Fletcher, wouldn’t you assume you had been cursed and needed immediate spiritual cleansing? I mean, if MURDER! or SUDDEN DEATH UNDER MYSTERIOUS CIRCUMSTANCES! occur within 10 minutes of your arrival anywhere, wouldn’t you seclude yourself in your home in Cabot Cove for rest of eternity? But I guess with excellent, puntastic episode titles like ‘Corned Beef and Carnage,’ ‘No Laughing Murder’ and ‘Doom with a View,’ I am willing to accept this suspension of disbelief.
I do have to say though, there are important “of the month clubs” missing in this world.
So, if by chance you are a purveyor of lip balms, please comb the Earth for an unparalleled assortment of lip remedies and help me get off the Burts, if not by actual detox, then by monthly distraction.
If you are a merchant of fancy imported lotions, please offer the raisins of the world a monthly sampling of rich, delicious smelling hand moisturizers.
Staples, Office Max or Boise Cascade, think of the bonus points you could earn by sending office supply freaks like myself a monthly parcel of the latest office supply innovations, be it a new pen, notebook, highlighter, tape flags or glue stick.
Attn fellow snail mail lovers: let us form a monthly snail mail group and recreate the glory days when mail wasn’t all boring bills and mindless crap. I promise to try to send you a coconut or a loaf of bread just to see what happens.
People, friends, merchants, this is my plea.
Don’t be jealous of my spam
First it was the Christian Singles. Now the Black Singles have launched a relentless email campaign in an effort to get me to date them.
*Sigh* What group of Singles will try and fail to gain my affections next?
All I know is, it had better not be the American Singles. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times. Call me a snob, but I don’t date “cheese product” for the obvious reasons.
