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What makes me think I can start clean-slated the hardest to learn was the least complicated

by anna at 08:35 AM on March 30, 2006

I muddle through my life as alienated as William Hurt's faintly bemused turn in the Accidental Tourist. Nobody does faintly bemused better than William Hurt.

There are some bright spots though. Among them is my divorce from money. I no longer deal with cash. All transactions are done with my trusty debit card. And I only deal with stores where I do the card-sliding so no one's grimy fingers touch my card. The only exception used to be fast food joints. But I don't eat there anymore and if I did they'd probably accept debit cards too.

I know this sounds a bit OCD. I also don't touch the bathroom door at work. I refuse to shake hands with people unless they are giving me large sums of money. I go out of my way to avoid being run over by women pushing double-strollers. The only person who touches me is my wife.

But I never get sick unless I am forced to fly on a plane full of coughing AIDS patients.

My alienation from humanity began with the advent of hands-free cell phones. Or maybe they are walky-talkies, I dunno. All I know is that when I see you carrying on animated conversations seemingly with yourself you look like a homeless person or a mental patient. And it makes me very uncomfortable.

Ah but I do keep tabs on y'all via my numerous media. I read several newspapers. I know that hundreds of thosands of criminals took to the streets in protest. They think it's a bad thing that laws are going to be enforced. I can't help but wonder why the INS wasn't on hand to round them up en masse. How silly is that?

I see that the UN Security Council, which is chock-full of nuke-hoarding nations, voted unanimously to condemn Iran's nuclear program. I am reminded of the times we used to steal pot from Whore Hey's mom, who admonished him not to use drugs. I mean, how hypocritical is that?

Since I can't attend concerts I read the reviews. I am amazed that such washed-up bands as the Outlaws, Molly Hatchet and Jethro Tull are still out there withstanding the rigors of the road to eke out a living. Isn't there something else they could be doing? Molly Hatchet once opened for my stepdaughter's band at a joint called Jak's. How embarassing is that?

Well my hands-free is ringing. I gotta go now.

comments (13)

Well, it took you long enough to become alienated. Hand Free Phones? So that must've been about three years ago. Well, nonetheless, you're alienated. I wonder though, with your Wife and Kids, how you still avoid getting 'inundated' with the outside world. Your kid has got to be spouting about pop culture, and your wife must still watch television.

by LOCKHEED at March 30, 2006 5:27 PM

He has no knowledge of pop culture. He's a very serious student of Latin or chemistry or something. She watches Court TV and TVLand, or whatever that old sitcom station is. We're an anachronism.

I did go out to greet my mailman cuz I was expecting a shipment of books. He trudged up my driveway muttering into his lapel like a Secret Service agent. Scared the life out of me.

by anna at March 30, 2006 8:00 PM

If your mailman is talking into his lapel then he's not really a mailman. They are watching you. It's not paranoia if they are really after you.

I don't feel bad about old bands still on the road playing fairs. It beats getting a real job nine to five and a whole 30 minutes for lunch. Alot of the bands can't handle anything else. Sort of like guys that get out of prison after years of incarceration. They can't deal with the real world.

Maybe Whore Hay's Mom just didn't want you doing HER drugs. That's what I tell my kids, I don't care if they smoke pot just don't dip into Daddy's stash.

by Long Time Lurker at March 31, 2006 2:17 PM

That's quite funny, because I know a married couple that are both mailmen, and sometimes people suspect the husband to be CIA.

And so true with Dying Classic Bands... what are they going to do? They definitely didn't put their 'millions' into a 529 College Savings Plan.

by LOCKHEED at March 31, 2006 2:46 PM

I am reminded of that scene in Spinal Tap where they're playing the state fair and they got billed below a puppet show. It don't get much lower than that.

When Whore Hey's mom died they let him out of min-sec prison to attend the funeral. A US Marshall tagged along just in case. He crushed me in tennis, having had so much time to practice. The marshall watched the 6-0 6-0 match. Then he whisked him away.

by anna at April 1, 2006 1:42 PM

???What? Jorge is a good tennis player??? Usually anyone who is a good tennis player is usually of the middle to upper classes, and don't end up in prison.

by LOCKHEED at April 3, 2006 12:04 PM

I played tennis through high-school, as well as rugby, which I still play. Playing tennis in high school was more because Amanda English played... and god damn did she look good in the whites. Nothing quite like playing mixed-doubles when your partner has killer thighs and a tan that makes tour eyes glaze over: double fault... meh... double vision. I still play hard court at Lloyd's sometimes, badminton too, when there are a few of us. I never did get between English's killer thighs though. Still... my forehand return is pretty sweet. *sniffles*

by Ex Crimson Guard NCO at April 3, 2006 3:25 PM

Oh, Jorge had money alright. We all did. Country Clubs. Tennis pros. But he honed his skill big-time over his 7 year sentence for CCE. Won the prison championship twice. Now he's in mergers and acquisitions. Spends a lot of time in Cuba.

I knew an English girl named Amanda too. We'd sit on the wall and peer into her room as she practiced facial expressions in the mirror. Shock! Laughter! Suspicion! And my fave: Hands on Hips.

by anna at April 4, 2006 6:26 PM

Sometimes I meet a female and I am suspicious that they practice their expressions in mirrors. I never saw it happen, though, and it seemed like something writers for The Babysitter's Club made up.

by jean at April 4, 2006 9:51 PM

It did. You should have seen Amanda's face when we confronted her with it. She also, it turned out out, practiced....other manners of expression.

by anna at April 5, 2006 8:04 AM

That makes me uneasy. Meh. I marvel at blokes in relationships with actresses. I remember a lass telling me she could cry on demand... and I can't remember if I liked her or not, but I'm fairly positive if I did, any thoughts of 'dating' her, went out of the window.

Did the Amanda you know do anything else before the mirror? Mmm... how women resist those things on their chests I'll never understand. I may get breast implants... forget iPods and handheld gaming systems... entertainment on hand right there on your chest. I'd even play with them in public, and flash passing cars and stuff... eee it'd be great. Have to shave my chest though. :(

by Ex Crimson Guard NCO at April 5, 2006 1:20 PM

Definitely shave it. Had a gal once with a very long hair there. Bit it off.

by anna at April 6, 2006 8:03 AM

If somebody asked me a difficult question, rather than thoughtfully rubbing my chin, I could just give my breasts a thoughtful wobble instead. Perusing wares in a store, just grab a hold of both and bounce them in my palms as I decide what to buy. Test the weight of my breasts before testing the weight of various fruit. Since I'm not really getting any, though. I think it should be socially acceptable for me to at least be able to comment on breasts as readily as I can somebody's hairstyle, or clothing.

>8-D "Heeey nice breasts. What are they... like... a B cup?"

{:-| "Sure, why not."

>:-) "Sweet!"

by Ex Crimson Guard NCO at April 6, 2006 1:07 PM

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