:: The Blurst of Times ::

:: 4.03.2003 ::

Okay, so if I like breasts, then Mr. Tom Robbins really likes vaginas. Apparently, in his mind, the solution for Cowgirls who get the Blues is a lot of sex and celebration of sex. And big thumbs. I think that was metaphorical for something... where's Mrs. Baine when I need her.

In the meantime, on a more serious note, someone I work with in my office (there are only seven of such people) got fired last week. This was a little disconcerting, on about the same level as the time I took my construction crew chief to court - where he was tried, sentenced, and led off to jail for the next three months. Granted, there were differences between this office enployee and the office owner, in personality, professional practice and the like, but I've only been there one-tenth of the time she had been, and I screw up too, so should I be worried about my job? I get the impression, no. But still, because of my new arrival did I contribute to or hasten this departure? The week prior there was a lot of work that bottlenecked at me (mostly through my own fault) and she was "detained" by the boss to come in late to get things done. Not that she cleaned up my mess, but she did help. I feel better because she currently had two offers out on the table for other jobs - I find solace in this. I'm just treading in some pretty deep waters at work, doing all I can to keep the head above water. Thank god baseball season has started.

But with TV baseball comes commercials. And I am sick of commercials. These movie commercials are killing me. Fuck being in phonebooths, fuck having "ten fingers and ten toes," fuck being a little cinderella princess, fuck being a novel black man running for president. These car commercials are killing me - is anyone that stupid to buy a car for any single reason that they are giving us in these ads. Obviously, people must be or else they wouldn't be showing them, but seriously why can't these people fall into the sea and drive to Atlantis and get the commercails there and just leave me alone. [On a related note: If you have purchased a Hummer, Suburban, Tahoe, Excursion, or alternate luxury "SUV" and you have purchased it because no other vehicle will take you offroad with as much capability as that particular vehicle, please let me know because I will personally send you one thousand dollars. If you have purchased it because you really have no dick, then just sit back and relax because you have now all but tattooed it on your forehead and your message is more than clear to all the rest of us.] The only commercial that I actually respect these days is the one for the Women's Final Four that has that song that says "I-I-I-I-I-I am a giant!" and has that UConn girl flexing because she could very much kick my ass. Good for her.

"Code red, code red: because this rocket heart's on fire..."
:: Freddy F. at 1:50 AM [+] ::