It’s going to be ugly. And by ugly I mean really, really fucking awesome
I know - it’s not fall yet, but it’s coming. The oppressive heat and nasty smells of the summer will soon be gone, leaving behind cool nighttime breezes, sleeping with the windows open, finally having an excuse to cover up any exposed parts of my body, and of course, football. I love football. I love both the game itself and the experience; there is nothing like waking up at noon on Sunday with a hangover, kicking whatever random girl you’re with out of your bed, ordering a pizza and 50 wings, and spending the next ten hours watching football. A better way to spend a day, I can think of none. But the absolute best reason is that it wont be hot anymore. I dont want to walk out of my door and down 5 steps and already be sweating. im a big sweaty man, and i dont like that.
Im working at this old ladys house shoveling what had to be the worlds largest pile of shit when the old women and her husband come out to watch me. They were around 80 years old and they were both wearing massive Terminator-style sunglasses. When they got in front of me they stopped and had a look. The man didn't seem very chipper. He had a "What the hell do you think YOU'RE doing?" expression on his face. His wife, on the other hand, was smiling from ear to ear. I think it made her feel excellent to see a "young" person shoveling an inordinate amount of steaming feces in the boiling heat. After a few minutes of watching me as though I were some kind of circus act, the man greeted me in a bellowing voice:"AFTERNOON."
First of all I like this way of greeting someone - just announcing that it's the afternoon. Just throwing out a random fact. Maybe later on tonight I'll knock on his door, and when he answers I'll just say "Evening," or "Dinner time," or "The Dow-Jones industrial average was down today." I also like the idea of greeting someone with only a single word. I suppose the only thing that could have been better than "Afternoon" would have been to say "Day." One syllable. That would have been the ultimate. I'm definitely not a fan of the "Hot enough for ya?" greeting. If you want me to hate you, ask me if it's hot enough for me while I'm toiling away at some degrading task. I will respond with a smile, but that's only because I’ll be quietly fantasizing about killing you in a very painful manor. Especially if it really is hot enough for me outside (which it will always, always be if I’m doing something that requires me to move 600 shovelfuls of manure from point A to point B)." Afternoon," I said to the old man. "I'm shoveling manure. Want to pitch in?" I said. The woman laughed as if this were the MOST hilarious thing she'd ever heard in her life. If I had to imitate it I'd say that it sounded like this: "Ooh-hoo-yoo-hoo-hoo-hoo," followed by a somewhat alarming coughing fit. "WE ARE GOING TO OAKBRIDGE TODAY," the old man said randomly. This time he spoke twice as loud as he’d spoken the first time and with twice the level of crankiness. I think he was just jealous because his wife was suddenly getting all of the attention. I didn’t know where Oakbridge was. I’d never heard of it."Oakbridge eh?" I said. We stared at each other some more.
"Apple pickin" said the wife.
"Apple pickin" said the husband.
"Apple pickin?" I said.
"Apple pickin" said the wife.
"Apple pickin" said the husband.
Then, apparently deciding that we’d said everything that needed to be said, they each did a surprisingly rapid 90-degree turn (in tandem) and continued on their way down the sidewalk, without saying goodbye. The "goodbye" was probably implied in the fifth mention of apple pickin’. I leaned on my shovel for a couple of minutes as I watched them amble away. This, unfortunately, was the highlight of my day.
I could honestly do what I do for the rest of my life and not complain. Sure, I’d like a real job with salary increases and promotions and all that jazz, but if I could make a good, happy, comfortable living at my job i would be content. I can see myself in ten years living in a suburb in New Jersey, loving a sweet unsuspecting wife who maybe is missing something physical (hand, knee, etc), raising two horrendously obese children, owning a large dumb dog and a luxury automobile, carrying on an affair with one of the lawyers I work with, drinking myself into a state of emotional deadness while listening to George, and spending sleepless nights praying for a heart attack - basically, living the American dream. But of course, that doesn’t mean that I don’t aspire to other things. While I can appreciate how good I have it right now in the college world, that doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t like to get paid to write jokes about shitting myself while sitting in my underwear in my bedroom, taking frequent beer and jerk off breaks. Also, with a big bag of Tostito’s and a jar of Amy’s Organic Black Bean & Corn salsa, which is the greatest salsa I’ve ever had - by far. Great fucking salsa.
There was also some teenage kid in the house across the street from where i shoveled shit who kept on popping his head out of his window and announcing to me that I was a "fag" and laughing in a high-pitched, crackly voice. I felt angry at first, but then I remembered that I’m not the one with the crackly voice.
So i guess I’ve learned that my life is more like an ongoing, never-ending process that will end only if I die or if I lose my eyesight. Since I’ve been doing a lot of experiments recently that involve fire and cans of hair spray, I’d say the blindness is more likely, but death is not that far behind.
I actually cant wait for school to start. im so fucking lonely and bored during the week that If I had a TV in my room, I would have turned it off by now, having grown sick of watching it. I’m not really sure if that makes any sense, but what it means that I’ve been so bored that…forget it.
I think I’m going to go for a walk. It’s a perfect day to head downtown to make eyes at all the underage tourist girls.
[And yes, I realize that this has no point and is not funny, but I wanted to share my boredom
with y’all. So forgive me.]
[Oh, and I feel better. Not 100%, but probably around 82%, which is coincidentally the percentage needed to get the green light to start drinking whiskey right after dinner. So that’s nice.]
have a nice week
Im working at this old ladys house shoveling what had to be the worlds largest pile of shit when the old women and her husband come out to watch me. They were around 80 years old and they were both wearing massive Terminator-style sunglasses. When they got in front of me they stopped and had a look. The man didn't seem very chipper. He had a "What the hell do you think YOU'RE doing?" expression on his face. His wife, on the other hand, was smiling from ear to ear. I think it made her feel excellent to see a "young" person shoveling an inordinate amount of steaming feces in the boiling heat. After a few minutes of watching me as though I were some kind of circus act, the man greeted me in a bellowing voice:"AFTERNOON."
First of all I like this way of greeting someone - just announcing that it's the afternoon. Just throwing out a random fact. Maybe later on tonight I'll knock on his door, and when he answers I'll just say "Evening," or "Dinner time," or "The Dow-Jones industrial average was down today." I also like the idea of greeting someone with only a single word. I suppose the only thing that could have been better than "Afternoon" would have been to say "Day." One syllable. That would have been the ultimate. I'm definitely not a fan of the "Hot enough for ya?" greeting. If you want me to hate you, ask me if it's hot enough for me while I'm toiling away at some degrading task. I will respond with a smile, but that's only because I’ll be quietly fantasizing about killing you in a very painful manor. Especially if it really is hot enough for me outside (which it will always, always be if I’m doing something that requires me to move 600 shovelfuls of manure from point A to point B)." Afternoon," I said to the old man. "I'm shoveling manure. Want to pitch in?" I said. The woman laughed as if this were the MOST hilarious thing she'd ever heard in her life. If I had to imitate it I'd say that it sounded like this: "Ooh-hoo-yoo-hoo-hoo-hoo," followed by a somewhat alarming coughing fit. "WE ARE GOING TO OAKBRIDGE TODAY," the old man said randomly. This time he spoke twice as loud as he’d spoken the first time and with twice the level of crankiness. I think he was just jealous because his wife was suddenly getting all of the attention. I didn’t know where Oakbridge was. I’d never heard of it."Oakbridge eh?" I said. We stared at each other some more.
"Apple pickin" said the wife.
"Apple pickin" said the husband.
"Apple pickin?" I said.
"Apple pickin" said the wife.
"Apple pickin" said the husband.
Then, apparently deciding that we’d said everything that needed to be said, they each did a surprisingly rapid 90-degree turn (in tandem) and continued on their way down the sidewalk, without saying goodbye. The "goodbye" was probably implied in the fifth mention of apple pickin’. I leaned on my shovel for a couple of minutes as I watched them amble away. This, unfortunately, was the highlight of my day.
I could honestly do what I do for the rest of my life and not complain. Sure, I’d like a real job with salary increases and promotions and all that jazz, but if I could make a good, happy, comfortable living at my job i would be content. I can see myself in ten years living in a suburb in New Jersey, loving a sweet unsuspecting wife who maybe is missing something physical (hand, knee, etc), raising two horrendously obese children, owning a large dumb dog and a luxury automobile, carrying on an affair with one of the lawyers I work with, drinking myself into a state of emotional deadness while listening to George, and spending sleepless nights praying for a heart attack - basically, living the American dream. But of course, that doesn’t mean that I don’t aspire to other things. While I can appreciate how good I have it right now in the college world, that doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t like to get paid to write jokes about shitting myself while sitting in my underwear in my bedroom, taking frequent beer and jerk off breaks. Also, with a big bag of Tostito’s and a jar of Amy’s Organic Black Bean & Corn salsa, which is the greatest salsa I’ve ever had - by far. Great fucking salsa.
There was also some teenage kid in the house across the street from where i shoveled shit who kept on popping his head out of his window and announcing to me that I was a "fag" and laughing in a high-pitched, crackly voice. I felt angry at first, but then I remembered that I’m not the one with the crackly voice.
So i guess I’ve learned that my life is more like an ongoing, never-ending process that will end only if I die or if I lose my eyesight. Since I’ve been doing a lot of experiments recently that involve fire and cans of hair spray, I’d say the blindness is more likely, but death is not that far behind.
I actually cant wait for school to start. im so fucking lonely and bored during the week that If I had a TV in my room, I would have turned it off by now, having grown sick of watching it. I’m not really sure if that makes any sense, but what it means that I’ve been so bored that…forget it.
I think I’m going to go for a walk. It’s a perfect day to head downtown to make eyes at all the underage tourist girls.
[And yes, I realize that this has no point and is not funny, but I wanted to share my boredom
with y’all. So forgive me.]
[Oh, and I feel better. Not 100%, but probably around 82%, which is coincidentally the percentage needed to get the green light to start drinking whiskey right after dinner. So that’s nice.]
have a nice week
posted by Brad at
12:05 PM
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