Monday, October 29, 2012

I may have resorted to cannibalism (a tad too soon)

So I awoke, dazed and confused from a hangover this morning to reports that NYC was going underwater and the movie 2012 was in fact coming true. So I went to work, killed my boss and sat in the break room and ate him.

Then I saw the damage from 'Frankenstorm' (pic below) and determined that I *may* have jumped the gun on the whole, apocalypse is nigh, cannibalism thing. 

My bad.

N.



Thursday, October 25, 2012

We made luck (in aisle 12)




First you passed me in the produce section. You stopped just in front of me to examine a cucumber. I nearly jizzed in my pants right there. But you were just getting warmed up.

By chance, we again met in aisle 3. If by chance you comprehend that I purposefully waited to see which aisle you would go down and then I double-backed around to face you as we passed. So yea, by chance.

You were pretending to not notice me which was all I needed to understand just how hot for me you really were. If you weren’t, you would have just said hi. You put some long, corn on the cob into your cart and strolled effortlessly away. My blood pressure rose.

My cart had the one bad wheel that dragged, loudly throughout the store. The kid with the mop wasn’t exactly excited about the scuff marks I was leaving in my wake either.

Aisle 4. Aisle 5. Aisle 7. Aisle 9. Meat. We kept meeting by chance the entire time!

Around aisle 12 you finally spoke.

Are you going to put anything into your cart while you stalk me or did your girlfriend forget to email you the list?” Right hand on hip. Nails red. Cleavage pulling me in...

*cough* “Ah, yes. I mean no. Yes! I am shopping and no I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Shocking.” You said rather blandly as you dropped the low salt V-8 juice into your cart without care and glided off. How could you know that was my favorite?!

What a flirt. I quickly speed raced my loud cart into dairy to beat you to the ice cream section but some bratty kid was crying about Flinstone yogurt and blocking the way. So I ran him over. Hey! Relax, I did the mom a favor. Next time he’ll stay in the goddamn cart seat like a toddler should!

Security to aisle 14. Code 9.” Blared the overhead speakers.

My cart wheel was really dragging now and I pushed even harder to race to meet you but alas, my phallic symbol shopper had skipped ice cream and went right to check out. Dammit. It was then that I realized I was dragging not only a bad wheel but the bratty kid. Kind of explains the increased torque. All stuffed up under my left front wheel. He seemed traumatized. I decided to shop later and depart with haste.

So... would love to finish our chat. I ah, can’t really shop at that particular Kroger anymore but would love to know where you shop for fresh, hard, long bread. 

N.

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Signs of the times (Front lawn)




Which is scarier in the front yard?
A well thought out and surprising halloween display or a flurry of political campaign signs?

I say the latter. And yes I’m fine, thanks for asking. I had a stalker and had to drill down  into the deep web to ascertain from whence she came. The deep web, The dark net, The TOR. The DOT onion. If you have no idea of what I’m saying, it’s not for you. Anywho, she’s gone and I’m back. Like a rash.

I.
First, is there anything more pathetic and archaic than the campaign yard sign? I mean who is it meant for exactly? Oh, the person that lives here is a proud republican. Wow. I get it. Ah, the person across the street is clearly (and suddenly) a progressive. These neighbors don’t talk to each other of course because that’s unheard of. They will however outdo each other on idiotic signs. You have three Romney signs? FUCK THAT! I’m going for 8 plus the local school board candidate. Take that bitch across the street who I only see on Sunday morning church excursion. Love the new curtains by the way.

But this rant isn’t the usual, I hate signs and therefore I hate you version. I already hate you so I need more than that. I’m going for the even better idea that people who post yard signs are in fact NOT involved in politics AT ALL. Yes. I said not involved. As in any meaningful, measurable way. I do not include talking to and yelling at the television as meaningful or measurable.

I’ll go even further and suggest that the typical yard sign homeowner is NOT on any school board, campaign, or volunteer program. They don’t do anything because they posted a sign. Yes, you heard that right as well. You might think that they only post yard signs because they just don’t want to really do anything else, but you would be wrong. They don’t do other things because the yard sign was THE thing.

II.
When you value BELIEF more than ACTION, than a sign in your yard is THE BEST way to convey to neighbors and passerby’s alike, what you believe. Actions? Who has time to run around attending lectures and/or reading books, challenging arguments and diverse opinions? And then use that knowledge to effect some change? How can you possibly keep up with twitter, Facebook and the Kardashians AND do all that? 

Who has time to walk over and ask the person I’m attracted to if they might want to grab some grub and chit-chat when I can just so easily and safely post here instead? My beliefs (I just saw my soul mate!) matter more than actions (go over to them and eek out some words). Missed connections as digital yard signs. 

 “I already know what I believe N. and I believe the other guy is evil. So don’t bother me with why my candidate sucks ass as I already know he does but, he’s not EVIL.”

III.
What is happening above is not only belief OVER action but full blown narcissism. Its just easier, and more to the point narcissistic, to demonize the other. Whenever you find yourself defined by what you hate, dislike and fear, rest assuredly you are in the grips of narcissism. The perception disease. The- protect your imaginary, made up identity at ALL costs illness. Imaginary means you spend a lot of time propping up an identity that just isn’t true. You of course know this and so you have angst but you can’t direct that angst towards yourself. So it goes outward. The angrier you become (Often even surprising yourself) the more likely your not really doing anything effectual about whatever supposedly made you angry in the first place, or anything for that matter. 

“You’re not listening N., the other candidate is a part of a conspiracy. He’s a wolf in sheep clothing!!” 

Yes and inside coke and pepsi is high fructose corn syrup but you don’t see me with a yard full of signs demanding you pick the one with less, do you? I just drink water and hope that you ask one day, why am I so fit and healthy. (Picture me flexing in mirror. Go ahead...you know you wanna.) But your desire for me to agree with your beliefs won’t let you move on. You are stuck. Your man verse his man. American Idol without the crappy music and the winner is, and always will be, the system. Thanks for playing.

IV.
Having the right beliefs becomes all consuming because thats all you have. Political, religious, academic... it doesn’t matter so long as you get your belief out before your favorite shows come on. To act would be to expose the absence of real freedom. And your made up identity just won’t handle that. 

Yard signs are Cheap (free, like here) and they don’t demand anything of your time and energy. You can now go about your day doing whatever you like (nothing) with the added benefit of displaying your so-called beliefs. Beliefs devoid of any real actions. Unless “liking” shit on Facebook is now considered “action”. Or posting ads with one letter names is action. Like an ancient buddhist prayer wheel, your yard sign is out there in the wind, doing the work for you. Besides, the Walking Dead is on. Oh, the irony. I love that documentary. Wait, what...

N.

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