Monday Misgivings
Eating sushi with a majority of people who don’t partake in it is a somewhat weird experience. Not that they are giving you sushi or anything, it is just weird to hear people discuss their distaste for the type of food you’re ingesting right there in front of your face. I mean normally, most people have the decency or respect for the decorum of the moment – which I think decorum means “of the corum” in Espanol – but when you ingest somewhat raw fish, distastes of people around you come out of the wood work like a casting call for termites in a gangbang movie. Is gangbang one or two words? I bet that is definitely not something you studied “officially” anywhere. You may have contracted tennis elbow in an attempt to figure it out, but you sure as hell didn’t tell anybody that you were silkin’ the corn for purely diagnostic purposes.
Playing bingo with someone who has Alzheimers can’t be all that bad. You’ve only got to buy one card, and then the Alzheimer’s inductee can go to town on that bad boy. If they ask you if a number was called, whether you heard it or not, just say “yes”. Who really gives a damn? Either way, they’re still going to blot the same dot enough times to make you think a fucking chicken with a red Sharpie on its beak was peckin’ corn; but you’d have to let it go due to their cruel situation, and because your conscience wouldn’t let you take them back to that geezer prison so soon.
What do you do when a guy you know has decided to get his hair cut like Telly Savalas? At first you don’t even recognize him – even though he is a mere two feet away - but then you get a text message from another friend within viewing distance of this unknown encounter who wants to know if you see any Aryan Nation tattoos? Do you speak and act like you’re not aware of the distinct feeling that you’re in a re-run of The Shield? Do you offer him a Dum Dum pop and say, “Who loves ya baby?” Do you shield your eyes from the glare and ask, “Hair’s it hanging?” What about asking if the curtains are made from the same material as the drapes? Why a straight dude would ask another straight dude that question, I have no idea. I just couldn’t resist the play on whatever type of thing fancified linguistical types refer to it as.
Truvia is some product that is apparently the grass juice drinker’s answer to sugar. It has zero calories, and it looks like very good crystal meth in the commercial – or what I imagine good crystal meth would look like. They show what seemed to be sky tears rolling off a big Mean Joe Green leaf and then the crystals on blueberries. I’d say it looks Splendad. I wonder if there is a strain of non-sugar, chemical based sweetener call Newtra Sweet? Do you think it would be made out of bodily secretions from tiny lizards? Neuter Sweet could be a faux sugar made for those who no longer worship the Greek god Testicles (Test-ti-clees). I mean after all, Sweet’n Low sounds like some sort of bizarre sexual act you would perform on a midget/dwarf. Why in the hell fake sugars have to have these ignorant, innuendo-type monikers I haven’t a calorie.
