Often have I realized that adult life is just like middle school which leads to me always being picked last, not really understanding whatís going on around me, daydreaming through the dissemination of important information, and wearing socks that donít match. But thank you, Ruby, because this is going to be therapeutic AND cathartic. Thereís just so very much that I donít get, it will be hard to limit it to five. I shall cheat by naming broad categories in some cases and the Internet will just have to lump it.
1. Republicans, conservatives, Bush-voters, listeners to AM talk radio: You people voted for this wiener?! Just this morning, I heard him refer to noo-kew-lar power pants. What? Stay on the page, Bubba. When your thoughts wander, people die. (If youíre a fiscal conservative, then I donít count you in this mix, by the way.) What I donít get is how you can say youíre pro-life but then youíre in favor of the death penalty. How you can be pro-life, but you donít want to pay for these children to have decent homes, food, and schools. How youíre in favor of this war in Iraq, but you didnít volunteer your ass or your childrenís asses to go over there and support your words with your lives. Let other peopleís (poor people, brown people) kids go! (See pro-life, above.) How do you accommodate so much contradiction in your minds? Iím pro-life and I carry this gun to prove it!
2. People who have exotic pets: Iguanas, chinchillas, ferrets, snakes, sugar gliders, etc. Are you aware of just how many perfectly serviceable dogs and cats (we call these ďdomesticatedĒ animals, unlike the critters you prefer) are euthanized, killed, every day in this country? Do you really think that having that unusual, quirky, odd pet makes you cool? Canít you garner any attention for your own personality and originality? Oh, I see. Youíre a dullard, but you crave the spotlight, so you acquire it through the acquisition of a pet that brings you attention instead of hauling your ass down to the animal shelter. By the way, this category includes also individuals who insist on having a long-haired white kitten instead of your sturdy alley-cat variety.
3. French pedicures: It just looks like you need to trim your toenails. Itís gross.
4. Capri pants: Just say no.
5. Pick-up trucks, SUVs, big-ass vehicles: If youíre a farmer, a tradesman, an artisan, or a laborer, you are welcome to own one of these. They were designed especially for you! Put your tools or hay or whatever in the back Ė woo hoo! If you live within the city limits of any city, work in an office, classroom, store, etc., then you should not be allowed to drive any of these. What, is your dick so small?
Well, Iím not sure if I really feel better or if Iíve just gotten myself all riled up over nothing.
Recently I have been having bizarrely vivid and realistic dreams. This morning when I woke up, I was quite certain that Iíd chased a door to door hippie magazine saleswoman out of my yard and that Iíd fired the guy who mows the lawn. I kept wondering why I was so angry with the magazine woman Ė I mean, I dislike intensely that someone can just knock on my door and disturb me to tell me that they are selling magazines to raise money for drug rehab or whatever. Release the hounds! But it was so real! The only thing that causes me to realize that it didnít really happen is that in my memory of this ďincident,Ē Buster was outside in the front yard and I was inside. Also, I was yelling at her through the window screen. I have storm windows on most of my windows and I have still not yet figured out how to open them, so I couldnít have been yelling through a window screen. And Buster doesnít just hang out in the front yard by himself. Anyhoo. I just donít understand why, if my dreams are going to be so realistic, theyíre about the yard man and chasing hippies. Why was I not having mad, passionate fun and adventure? Why wasnít I speaking French with Johnny Depp? Hookers and blow with Hemingway? (Ernest, not Margaux.) The yard man? Jeez.