Scratchy Glitter

Observations for the easily irritated.

Ads & Products & Stuff, Oh My

ADVERTISING HALL OF SHAME

…award this week goes to some product (I don’t even remember it, so there!) that starts its commercial with “Are you bothered by chronic constipation?” with SHOTS OF PEOPLE SITTING ON THE TOILET.

Rom is urging me to tell on Head & Shoulders shampoo, not least because we’ve argued twice about it. The newest bottles have “#1 DERM RECO” emblazoned on them. Our disagreement was not because that’s not a stupid way of putting it–we are agreed on that score–but because he believes most people wouldn’t understand what they meant by it, and I disagree. Of course, I read women’s magazines, which routinely use “derm” for dermatologist, just like they use “gyno” for gynecologist. (And if you read these magazines, you get the idea these are the only two doctors their readers have.) Now that I think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever heard people actually using these terms in conversation.

Let’s just go ahead and ban this sort of thing, shall we? I haven’t issued a World Leader Edict in awhile.

BY THE POWER INVESTED IN ME, WHICH I HAD BEFORE STEPHEN COLBERT STARTED HIS FURRY-HAT ROUTINE, JUST CHECK MY ARCHIVES UNDER “WORLD LEADER PRETEND”…

Be they banned henceforth and forevermore:

–“mani,” “pedi,” and “mani/pedi”

–“vacay”

–“cardi” for cardigan

–“cami” for camisole

–“convo” for conversation

–not only “reco” for recommendation, but “recs” as well

–“deo” for deodorant

I’ll probably think of more as I go along.

–Sign on door of CVS–“Automatic Entrance. Doors Can Close Unexpectedly.” Is “Enter at your own risk” really good business practice?

–IHOP is deciding to focus on burgers? Why?

–Also, Dunkin’ Donuts deciding its name is now just “Dunkin'” is stupid.

I SUPPOSE YOU’RE WAITING FOR ME TO REVIEW THE NEW QUARTER POUNDERS

McDonald’s claims these are better than they previously were, and I agree. Keep in mind that I’ve never been a big Quarter Pounder fan, preferring the double cheeseburger or McDouble (which are not, by the way, the same thing, although the difference is just an additional slice of cheese on the double cheeseburger) (maybe you already knew that, but I had to have it explained to me). My main problem with Quarter Pounders now is that they have a more “charcoal” flavor. I never care for that–it tastes just plain burnt to me–but I know a lot of people like it.

I SOLVE A MYSTERY

For a long time, I’ve wondered how McDonald’s determines receipt numbers. Some people get, say, 398, while someone else there at the same time might get 277. But they always start with 2 or 3. I finally realized that it has to do with which register it was rung up on. #1 is never used for some reason, 2 and 3 are at the counter, so the people ordering inside always get those, and 4 is for the drive-through. I’m glad I figured that out. Wait a minute–maybe 1 is for the drive-through, and 4 is the one that’s never used. Oh well, I never have to deal with those, so they don’t affect me.

Did you know that Nick once said the military would be good for me? Of course, he said the same thing about prison.

 

I’m Gonna Complain

…inspired by a woman on the bus, who used “Well, I’m not gonna complain” to wrap up a lengthy complaint.

WAR ON WORDS UPDATE

Yes, it’s not just a war on parts of speech. I saw an ad for cottage cheese that said, “A Whole New Way To Cottage.” By which they meant, “to eat cottage cheese.” Because who has time to say two more words? We’re approaching point-and-grunt territory. Speaking of which, I saw a game on Facebook–“Write the name of a band using only emojis and let us guess who they are!” See, a means of communication shouldn’t make me have to guess what you mean. I don’t think the Sour Neon Crawlers could be represented solely by emojis.

Courtesy of Rom: “The erupting volcano in Guatemala is called Volcano del Fuego. As opposed to…?”

Also courtesy of Rom, things that have been forever ruined for me…

“Old Rugged Cross”= “On a hill far away stands an old Chevrolet”

“Ring of Fire” = “I keep a close watch on this heart of mine. I hold my pants up with a piece of twine.”

And the auto-parts place–“When the name is Napa, the quality’s crappa.”

LETTING US LOOSE IN SOCIETY

There is an autistic guy working at McDonald’s (I know this because he says so), who reminds me of myself at his age. He was telling a work buddy, “Yeah, I’ve tried applying for other jobs, but at the end of the interview I tell them, ‘I’m autistic, just so’s you know,’ and I never get a callback.” Oh, dear, as Nick would say. (This phrase inserted for the sake of Nick, whose eyes well with tears whenever a post of mine doesn’t mention him.) Now, I never applied for jobs at fast food places when I was his age and looking. They all knew me as that weird customer. Black biker t-shirts! Big rings! And other stuff that doesn’t go with glasses!

 

 

 

 

 

Freedom Day

I have been retired for a year today. Hmm, have I learned anything? And why do I feel like I should have learned something?

I am wearing the “My Work Number is 911” t-shirt, because it isn’t.

Today is National Donut Day, but I had no donuts. I guess I could rectify that tomorrow.

I am somewhat intoxicated.

Oh, Rom wants you to know, reference our anniversary lunch at Logan’s, that he did not, either, put both steak sauce and something else (ketchup?) on his burger. He used them to dip his fries in, which I personally don’t think is any better, and may be worse.

THE WEIRDEST AD I EVER SAW

This was an old magazine ad on Ebay, for some brand of lipstick. It said, “There’s a little bit of Satan in our satin-finish lipstick.” Because it’s devilishly sexy and stuff. It had a guy in a devil costume lurking behind the lipsticked model. I just can’t see that ad running today. Of course, we have an entire line of nail polish called Sinful Colors, so I could be wrong.

Oh, looking back on my decision to be a Writer (and the accompanying Hey! I might not need college!) decision I made in 8th grade–I didn’t, and don’t, doubt my ability to write, per se. I think I could have been entirely adequate in some magazine-staff or copy-writing position (that didn’t require me to go out and interview people). The doubts were/are about Creative Writing. After all, an agent once told me, “You don’t even understand the basic story-arc.” And how could an autistic person, who can’t understand how people tick, make characters come to life? OK, I haven’t Learned Something.

Speaking of which, the paper recently had something about The Danger of Self-Diagnosis, when it comes to autism. So have I been officially diagnosed? I have been half-diagnosed. I once said to my mother, “That nice lady you had me talk to in first grade was a child psychologist, right?” And she said, “Yes, she said you might be autistic, but we figured out it was just that we didn’t know your eyesight was so bad!” Yeah, that explains a lot. Not.

 

 

Product Criticism

 

On Coke carton: “15 cans! That’s 3 more than a 12-can carton!” Um, yeah, I figured that out myself.

On Pepsi carton: “Tastes great over ice!” Wow! I’d never have thought of that!

I’m sure you’re expecting me to weigh in on the latest McDonald’s controversy. Well, if you’ve heard of it, anyway. Someone is suing McDonald’s because they wanted their Quarter Pounder without cheese, and didn’t think they should have to pay for the cheese. (I am just imagining damages paid for however many cents a slice of cheese is, through a lifetime of burgers.) McDonald’s is maintaining that the sandwich’s full name is “Quarter Pounder With Cheese,” and that therefore cheese is part of the nature of the item, and that the plaintiff could just pick the cheese off anyway.

I’m not sure what justice is in this case, but I can make several points. (Of course I can!)

–Telling someone they can “just pick off the parts you don’t like” is invalid. The juice of the unliked item remains on the burger. My personal nemesis is onions, but even though I like cheese, I know it would melt into the burger and ruin it for someone who didn’t.

–And before McDonald’s gets too snooty, the original patent for the item in 1975 mentioned cheese as an optional feature. And I remember when the Quarter Pounder was introduced (you saw that coming, didn’t you?). You ordered either a Quarter Pounder (in white styrofoam carton) or a Quarter Pounder with Cheese (in yellow styrofoam). I don’t remember when they decided to default to the Cheese option, but it was not always thus.

–And most importantly, how does this affect me? I dislike a bunch of stuff they put on burgers (I was appalled the first time I ever went to McDonald’s as a child and realized they put everything on burgers–who gets ketchup and mustard and pickles and onions?). But it never occurred to me to tell them, “I don’t want the mustard and pickles and onions, and I don’t want to pay for them, either. Subtract 7 cents from my bill.”

All this is making me want a cheeseburger.

 

Stress-Free Writing Experience

…switched to “Distraction-free writing mode” since I remarked upon it yesterday. Apparently they realized they could not promise to eliminate stress, in spite of the feverish sort of enjoyment I usually derive from this. Once I actually start. Anyway, all it meant was they hid the menus at the side, as if I had been stressed out by them before. As if.

Almost done with the second can of Wicked Apple Ale, thanks to wicked Nick, not to mention his wicked wife, who first gave me some to try, though it was the non-wicked type. I soon hit the harder stuff, to quote Bob Dylan.

Today is my 31st anniversary, and Trexa took me and Rom to Logan’s Roadhouse. My steak (medium-rare) and sweet potato (without cinnamon) (they also had cinnamon apples, eww) was very good. Rom had a burger done “medium-well,” which I guess means gray and flavorless without being actually burnt. No wonder he put both ketchup and steak sauce on it.

You know Logan’s serves lots of aging boomers, because the soundtrack when we entered was Bachman-Turner Overdrive and the Guess Who (involving some of the same personnel–they must need the money). Speaking of which, I saw a headline recently–“Millennials Now the Most Frequent Caregivers.” Why? Did Gen-X’ers get tired of our shit?

I must take issue with Logan’s restroom. It had a fake distressed-concrete floor, with real puddles of water in 3 out of the 4 stalls. It made me feel like I’d been kidnapped and taken to the basement of an abandoned warehouse. Well, except that I had a toilet instead of a pail to go in. And they gave me steak. Anyway, why would you want your bathroom floor to look like it was crumbling away after the fall of civilization?

1968 vs. 1984

It was 1968 when I decided I was going to be a writer. I was sitting in 8th grade English class, we were studying 1984, and it struck me–I could do this! Then I immediately started worrying about whether I could do it or not. This was against the background of recently discovering that my lack of math aptitude precluded a career as a scientist. Actually, my 2nd thought after my epiphany was, And I wouldn’t necessarily have to go to college! I suspected even then that I wouldn’t be able to make it through. This did not keep me from trying 3 times.

 

I Remembered To Show Up

…belatedly.

OBSERVATIONAL HUMOR

…is what Rom says this is.

Brought to you courtesy of Nick, who showed up at my door on my birthday with a gift bag full of apple ale clenched in his teeth, before flying away. The bag was black and had scratchy glitter on it. I suspect this was deliberate. Have you noticed that such bags always have the scratchy glitter on one side, but are smooth on the other side, so that glitter doesn’t rub off on your clothes? Why do I always have to touch the glitter anyway, even though it makes me shudder?

I have had 2 cans of ale (my normal dose), which makes me want to spend money on something self-indulgent. Last year it was green-and-white gingham shorts, but I resisted the temptation. (I love green-and-white gingham, and plaid with a black background. These prints give me a feeling of security. They’re like the opposite of the Baby Corn and the Union Suit. Anyone remember those? Check the posts under Conspiracy News for more info.)Now am tempted by some Keds in Iris Shimmer, and an Almond Cucumber perfume sample, even though I tried the AC perfume before and it didn’t work for me. Almond and cucumber are my comfort notes (kind of like the Magic Prints noted above), so I keep thinking, But it has to work! Sometimes perfume just refuses to cooperate.

OK, I hit some key that keeps deleting stuff I didn’t intend, and I don’t know what I hit, so I can’t correct it, and that is why the above paragraph is incorrectly punctuated.

SONG LYRIC ANALYSIS–MOODY BLUES

“Schoolwork, one and one is two

But you know that now that’s just not true”

Yes, it is true. Your ingestion of LSD does not affect its veracity.

AND THE DOORS

Rom says that “When the Music’s Over–turn out the lights” makes him think, “turnip delight.” You’re welcome. I hope I can forget that before I listen to it again.

Today is the 2nd anniversary of Alien Finger, which is celebrating by being stiff and sore, which I suppose is appropriate. I keep reading about people who dislocate a finger, pop it right back in, and it’s good as new. What’s their secret? Youth, probably.

Today is Pentecost, which makes me think, “Here he comes to save the day! That means the Paraclete is on his way!”

Long ago, my cousin Becky (hurray for Facebook and cousin Linda, who helped me discover cousins on the Forbidden Side of the family!) asked me, “Do you miss working?” After long thought, I can say I sometimes miss having a job (a Purpose in Life and all that, though I never thought of 911 as that purpose), but I don’t miss having that job. As I think every time I go by Dispatch on the bus and think, Glad I’m not answering phones in there.

IT HAS TO BE CLASSY, IT HAS CARPET–TACO JOHN’S

I visited this fine establishment on Cinco de Mayo. Since it was Saturday, I had church, and couldn’t go to Hacienda and have a strawberry daiquiri, which would have been the logical thing to do. Although people might have been drunk at St Boniface Church before.

Taco John’s has been around since 1969, although Rom can’t remember it the year he graduated from high school. The identity of Taco John is mysterious. I imagine him being kind of like Johnny Appleseed.

TJ’s is the only carpeted fast-food place I know of. Like the Women’s Hospital, the addition of carpet adds a certain cachet. It’s almost like you’re at home, except that someone cut into your abdomen. At the hospital, I mean, not at Taco John’s.

My softshell taco was very good, especially since the clever person who assembled it added a tuck-and-fold technique that meant I didn’t have to balance it carefully to keep everything from falling out the end. That must have been a Cinco de Mayo special, though, since it has fallen out the end every other time I’ve been there.

Ah, Potato Ole’s. The old Mexican classic of disc-shaped Tater Tots sprinkled with Lawry’s seasoned salt. Cinco de Mayo marked the first time I have ever finished an order. And if you put cheese on them, you are gilding the lily. And if you put bacon bits, donut bites, icing, and chocolate on them and EAT THEM FOR DESSERT, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?

TJ’s has a senior discount of 10%. I forgot to add discount information when I wrote about Taco Bell, but that was because I got 10% off there once, and the next time I requested it, the manager said they didn’t have a discount. Maybe I just looked too young.

LEGGINGS AS PANTS UPDATE

I am actually not against leggings as a lower half, as long as you wear a butt-covering top. But today I saw a woman who did wear a butt-covering top, but then knotted it up in the back, because she got dressed and thought, “Oh no! Now no one can see my butt!”

Speaking of entities trying to defy me, the roses in my yard, which normally bloom in mid-May, burst into glorious bloom simultaneously on THE DAY AFTER MY BIRTHDAY.

Spellcheck thinks “donut” is not a word. I don’t know what to tell it.

WordPress has an icon in the corner that says “Stress-Free Writing Experience.” I have to find out what that might be, but I am too stressed-out at the moment. As is Alien Finger.

 

 

Birthday in Hell…

…it being a day of record-breaking heat. Of course, Rom broke the heat record on the actual day he was born, so no contest there. I think that was 91, too, which is even more remarkable in late April.

Thanks to all the well-wishers who included praise for the blog. I had been considering terminating it–I’ve sometimes felt I have nothing to write about now that I’ve retired–but thanks to you, IT SHALL CONTINUE.

COSMO ASTROLOGY ’82

Fashion for Taurus: “Elegant pajamas in sun yellow and navy stripes are exotic at night, especially when coupled with bright pink sandals.” Because yellow and navy blue just don’t clash enough.

Fashion for Gemini: “Smashing combination: red halter under a gray flannel jacket worn with pale peanut-colored pants or tucked into orange walking shorts.” Again–did we just forget how to combine colors in the 80’s?

Fashion for Virgo: “Pair a hand-painted short wrap shirt in peanut-glazed cotton with a forest green tightly-pleated skirt.” What is with all this peanut stuff?

Decorating for Scorpio: “Invest in a hanging fireplace.” Now, I don’t know much about such things, but how do you hang a fireplace, exactly? Seems like it would catch something on fire.

ROM & I GO TO GERST HAUS

My only observations (it was an enjoyable afternoon, and I do better at complaining):

–If your cornbread has hot peppers in it, you should mention that fact on the menu. Otherwise it is just a cruel practical joke.

–This is the only establishment I’ve visited that had, over the relevant area, the word TOILETS. We know what you really want!

Poor Nick was saved from forgetting my birthday only by my tender mercies in telling him yesterday, since he hasn’t found the part on Facebook that tells you all the upcoming ones for the whole year.

 

 

Drunk & Orderly

…is what I was on Saturday. But that was then, and this is now.

COSMO ASTROLOGY FOR 1981

Interior decorating for Sagittarius: “Turn your digs into a colorful caravan by covering walls with brightly-printed sheets, then gathering ends of same at middle of ceiling. Add rattan chairs, huge pillows covered in madras cotton, a collection of Buddhas–pure erotica!” Yes, there’s nothing more erotic than a bunch of Buddhas.

Brief intermission while I get up and turn the light back off, after having it on to copy the above.

AMERICA HAS A PROBLEM

Well, the corner of Franklin & St Joe has a problem, but it’s symptomatic & stuff.

First let me note that someone has tossed a pair of athletic shoes over the telephone wire. It has been rumored that this means that drugs are for sale at this location. Even before I read Snopes on the matter (they say no one knows why it happens, but probably it’s just because we can), I found problems with this theory. How do you know where to get the drugs? Do you just stand on the corner until someone shows up?

At any rate (to use one of Rom’s favorite expressions), at least two people were able to get some drugs, because there was a guy on the bus stop bench angrily talking to himself.

Rom just came in here and turned on the light, just because it’s dark. How dare he?

I thought, he’s really going to be mad when he realizes that the bench isn’t really at the bus stop, but is half a block away. This is because the important thing is not giving riders a place to sit while they wait, but displaying the advertising on the bench to the best advantage. People sitting on it actually block the view. I thought I was just paranoid to think this, until I saw recently that they moved the one across the street away from the bus stop, too.

At any rate, perhaps the guy on the bench suspected the truth, because he hunched over and started screaming at the sidewalk.

Then a different guy lurched toward me, so I had to step aside to avoid him. He kept staggering onto the liquor-store parking lot and back,

(Disclaimer: speaking of staggering on liquor-store lots, I’m drunk again. I have to have a reason to be drunk–previously it was Cinco de Mayo, now it’s my birthday/anniversary season.}

and then he approached me–“Gotta light for a cigarette?” Well, that’s one stupid habit I never started, so no. He then stumbled over to the guy on the bench, who interrupted his diatribe with the pavement long enough to give him a  light. Then Guy #2, who apparently saw no reason to save up his cigarette money so he could fix his missing tooth, sat down on the curb, smoking and twitching. Then he got up and wandered into the street, apparently thinking he could see if the bus was coming more effectively that way. Keep in mind that this is W. Franklin St. during evening rush hour, even though many people were just rushing to the liquor store after work. OK, I was one of those people. Except for the “after work” part.

When the bus arrived, I got on quickly, to secure my coveted front-upper-level seat. The smoking/twitching guy got onto the bus entrance steps and just stood there, then stepped off.

Bus driver: “Sir, do you want to get on the bus or not?”

Guy: “I’m scared.”

Driver: “Scared of what?”

Guy: “Being shot.” He then backed away from the bus. I am betting the police dealt with him eventually.

This post is dedicated to the people at Dispatch who decided, against all odds, that they missed me.

 

 

It’s Not Easy Being Dead

I just liked that from the previous post. Yes! I can cannibalize even from the immediately previous post! Speaking of the previous post…

OTHER NON-REASONS I WEAR PERFUME

I don’t wear it in place of soap and deodorant. So much for those who say, “I don’t need perfume–shower. This isn’t the old days when we didn’t have soap.”

I don’t wear it to seduce anyone. As in, “You shouldn’t try to be sexy at the office, so why would you wear perfume to work?”

I wear it because it smells good (to me–other people might disagree, but I might disagree with their choice of leggings as pants), and because a great perfume is a work of art.

YOU MIGHT BE A REDNECK IF…

Overheard on the bus:

“I told my son, ‘You better put that trash out before you go to bed tonight.’ So when I saw he went to bed and it wasn’t done, I took it and dumped it over him. He woke up and said, ‘You dumped it on me!’ and I said, ‘Yeah, I needed room to put more in.'” To be charitable, let’s assume that she was speaking about a wastepaper basket, not the garbage can in the kitchen. One hates to think what would happen if he hadn’t cleaned the litter box.

UNWANTED RESTAURANT REVIEW–TACO BELL

You thought I’d given up doing these, didn’t you? Since I only did the one of McDonald’s, and that was like a year ago, in fast-food time.

I’m sorry to say this about Rom’s favorite fast-food place, but I seldom go to Taco Bell. My infrequent desires for Mexican food are better met by Taco John’s, right down the street. (Taco Bell vs. John’s is a Chevy-vs.-Ford sort of controversy in these parts, and equally unresolved.) But I mean to cover all the places on St Joe between Maryland and Franklin (that allow me to eat on the premises, that is, which may cut out the pizza places), so it must be included.

I had, as I think I said once before on here, actually been avoiding TB entirely since the time they completely forgot about my order–even though I was right there on the premises waiting for it. I tend to resent places that give priority to the drive-through over the counter, since I, of course, am always at the counter.

A BRIEF ANNOUNCEMENT BROUGHT TO YOU BY MY EXPERIENCE AT  MCDONALDS YESTERDAY: WHY WOULD YOU ORDER MCDONALDS FROM YOUR SMARTPHONE WHEN YOU ARE ALREADY STANDING AT THEIR COUNTER?! HUH?

Where were we? Right, at Taco Bell, across the street from McDonald’s.

Anyway, they had no problem remembering my presence this time. The sign outside said, “Need money? Taco to us about a job that’s nachos yet!” so perhaps there had been an employee shakeup. Although the other sign that said, “Work at your happy place!” might have taken it a bit far.

Unfortunately, this time they weren’t playing their 70’s rock soundtrack. What they were playing was so forgettable that I forgot it.

One problem I’ve had with Taco Bell is their lack of side dishes, unless you’re into nachos, which I’m not. So I was pleased to discover their Mexican rice, which I had with a soft taco. The latter was eerily similar to the same item at Taco John’s, except for Taco Bell-style ground beef, which is, as I’ve noted, inferior. However, both items were entirely adequate. So now I have a menu plan for those times when everyone else in my group wants Taco Bell. Which would really only happen in the mid-70’s, with 7 of us stuffed into a VW bug with a bottle of Boone’s Farm wine. As the old joke goes:

Officer to a driver at a DUI checkpoint:

“I’ll have to give you a field sobriety test.”

“OK.”

“Now text your ex.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Wanna go get Taco Bell?”

“No, I’m good.”

“OK, you’re free to go.”

Restroom review: Atomic-powered toilet that wants to shoot you to the stars when you flush, and no place to put your stuff while you wash your hands.

Yes, this review is less than enthusiastic, but I warned you going in.

I PUT OFF PAYING MY UTILITY BILL SO I COULD TELL YOU THIS

Why is there all this extra writing on the back of the envelope? Besides the usual “Manage your account online.” It reads:

Step 1) Write your Vectren Energy Delivery account number on check.” {I refuse to do this. They have my name and a piece of paper with my account number already on it in the envelope. Besides, no one needs a 19-digit account number.}

Step 2) Place stamp on return envelope and ensure your address is visible through the film window. {I resist the temptation to ensure both of these things are upside-down.}

Step 3) Mail payment at least 5 business days prior to due date to ensure timely delivery.

Step 4) {which is actually in boldface type because this is what they’re really getting at} Avoid steps 1-3 next time by creating an online account and paying your bill online!

Your cheery exclamation point does not deceive me. It’s easy to make anything seem like an unbearable chore if you write it that way. I can do it myself:

PAYING YOUR BILL ONLINE

Step 1) Attempt to remember username. What combination of your names/initials did you use?

Step 2) Attempt to remember password. Get told that your password–

a.) must include letters, numbers, and a “special character”

1.) mutter, “But I am a ‘special character’!”

b. cannot be the same as a password you’ve used in the past 3 months

Step 3) Click on “Forgot password?”

Step 4) Get asked your mother’s maiden name. Try to remember whether you used all-caps, all lower-case, or a combination of the two.

Step 5) Prove you’re not a robot. {And, in the final analysis, can any of us prove that?}

Step 6) Ask for a second chance to prove you’re not a robot, since you could not read the first chance any better than a robot could.

Step 7) Finally access bill-payment screen.

Step 8) Make sure your information matches what they already have on file.

Step 9) Click on “Pay Now.”

Step 10) Get advised to “Print a copy for your records.”

Step 11) Tell them, “I shouldn’t need to do that, because the whole point of doing it this way is supposedly to avoid paper.”

Sure, you will now say, “You’re presenting the worst-case scenario!” but I assure you, at best it involves 3 steps, just like doing it not online. The real point is that they want you to do it online because it saves them money, because they don’t have to pay someone to enter it into their computer system, because you just did it for them.

And if anyone wants to hire me to write stuff on the back of envelopes, meet me at McDonald’s.

 

 

 

Dreaming is Free

…to quote Blondie. Speaking of which, the song “Rip Her To Shreds” always reminds me of Nikki the Tragically Hip. I can just picture her being in a band and singing that.

WordPress is inviting me to attend a “Word Camp” near me. That sounds scary. Luckily, “near me” is defined loosely.

YOU KNOW THE PEOPLE IN THE BOOTH BEHIND YOU AT MCDONALD’S ARE NERDS WHEN:

First topic of conversation: What you should trade your PS4 in for. The fact that you should trade in your PS4 was not open to question. (Note: I only know what a PS4 is because of South Park.)

Second topic: “I think Cambridge Analytica should be in trouble, not Facebook.” (Note: Spell-check says “analytica” is not a word, and I agree.)

Third: “The only reason they had so many Ewoks was because they couldn’t put in that many Wookies, because of the expense for the costumes.” (Note: I have never seen a Star Wars movie.)

YOU KNOW YOU’RE MILDLY INTOXICATED WHEN:

I’m sitting here feeling daring because I’m wearing a tank top. Yeah, it’s 56 degrees, but I’m inside.

I REITERATE MY YEARLY PROMISE THAT IF SOMEONE BUYS ME A FORD MUSTANG FOR MY BIRTHDAY, I WILL LEARN TO DRIVE.

PRODUCT REPORT

Seen at CVS–fake succulents. Just grow some facking succulents! It isn’t hard.

And…”Sour Neon Night Crawlers.” As you know, Sour Neon Crawlers is the name of my imaginary band. “Night Crawlers” would be a good name for our second album. People would know what the band was about by then, and we could just stand there on the cover wearing leather and looking ironic.

DREAMING IS FREE

I dreamed that I was about to die, and they told me, “We have technology now that can bring you back to life, but only for 24 hours, and you can only do it once. You’ll need to wear makeup, because you’ll still look kind of greenish, and you’ll have to wear perfume, because you’ll still smell just a little bit like a dead body.” I chose Avon Timeless, because I thought an old-timey scent would be a witty touch. I’m sure Avon would be flattered. And how did I spend my precious 24 hours? At a party with my former co-workers, and I insisted on telling everyone, “You know, I’m actually dead,” and then feeling hurt because they all looked horrified and backed away from me. It’s not easy being dead.

No, I do not wear perfume because I’m trying to cover up the smell of a dead body.

 

 

 

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