Ugh. The poor monkeys. But… perhaps this would be a terrifying Halloween costume? Scary as well as social issue relevant? Gorillasuits.com has same day shipping for orders placed before 5 pm. Add a banana suit to the mix and you have an intriguing couple’s costume. No?
Well, this is a lousy way to start the summer. Here I am, all happy sitting in my kiddie pool doing a little light soul-searching, when along comes L.A. Vaught and his phrenology charts. And now I learn that my pointy head indicates a weakness of character that anybody can see just by looking at me.
But wait – I can’t seem to find these hair-eyes,
but I can definitely see ghosts. Or at least I used to. Hm. Okay, I’m not going to worry about my hair-eyes. Maybe selfish, deceitful old me can find something else of use in these charts.
There seems to be a lot of talk this week about whether any of us know the true nature of any of our neighbors. Some guy might seem like a normal dude who you’ve lived near for years, even eaten barbecue with, or he might seem a little creepier because you could have sworn you saw three naked women on leashes in his backyard (but maybe that was your imagination, because the cops didn’t seem to care much about it when you called them to report it). How do you know where the bad people are?
Hopefully you’ll have another neighbor who will post helpful signs.
(No, I wasn’t about to go up that walkway for a better picture of the sign. Just trust me.) Oh wait – I guess it is the neighbors they are talking about.
I’m just glad I don’t live in this neighborhood. Oh wait; I’m petsitting across the street next week. This should be interesting.
When we were kids, my brother and I got chocolate advent calendars from Germany every December. Every day, we could pop open a new window and find a differently shaped piece of chocolate in there. One day it was a beach ball, one day it was a sunflower. The 24th always featured a larger piece of chocolate shaped like a star. It was very hard not to open the windows ahead of time. I seem to remember my brother and me devising new rules governing when it was acceptable to open the next day’s window, and then at a certain point I think we just would see how many we could get away with opening before Mom got mad.
That was just Tuesday. The more I’m looking at this, though, the harder it’s getting not to open all of the windows. Well, at least it’s not going to give me cancer like that chocolate one is going to.
The weather today is beautiful, but I have to say that something about the day itself is rather strange and sinister. On my way to work, as I drove down Beverly Blvd. I noticed about two blocks-worth of gutter filled with bras and panties and high heels. On my way to lunch, I encountered two bags of groceries in the crosswalk. A sack of oranges, a packet of sliced beef, and a bag of maybe sausages (but maybe turds) getting run over by cars as they drove by.
On his way to lunch, Benny walked by a dead dog in a box with a sign over it that said, “Do you recognize this dead dog?” Then he drove by a probably dead guy at the moment that the cops and ambulance were driving up to investigate. Then he got stuck behind a funeral procession.
I’m not sure what is happening here today. It sure would be nice if a bunch of balloons could just come and take us to Krakatoa.
I’m sure getting a lot of conflicting information from my friends today about drugs. Ross says:
but then Alan says:
I don’t know what to think. Maybe I’ll just get some pancakes and think it all over.
Oh geez. Nobody warned me about the dangers of pancakes. I’m going back to bed.
You know what we don’t have enough of on Fancy Notions? We don’t have enough religious hymn singalongs. Let’s get to fixing that right away.
So, I may have to be looking for a new job in the near soon future. I may not. I don’t know. Agh. It’s been sort of a tumultuous week for me, as you might guess.
When something like this happens, I think it’s natural for a person to question whether she wants to continue on in her current career or think about a new path. Am I suited for my career? Is there any future in it? Is it something I actually want to be doing? What else would I be suited for?
I have to say that I lack some self-confidence, so I’ve been a little hesitant about the whole jumping careers thing unless I start at an entry-level job, and at my age most people don’t want to hire me for an entry-level job. Thankfully, The Awl pointed me in the direction of a career that I’m sure I can excel at – guinea pig rental agent. I am a shoo-in; my brother and I wound up with 17 guinea pigs when we were children without even trying. You see, it’s really hard to tell the difference between a male guinea pig and a pregnant female guinea pig. And then your dad can’t make enough guinea pig cages fast enough to separate them before the children start breeding with each other, and then there’s like this exponential number of cages your dad has to build, and voila! Guinea pig kingdom. Ready for rental. Now all I have to do is lobby Congress to get one of these “No Single Guinea Pigs” law enacted. Piece of cake.
Oh; you hate guinea pigs? Watch this and tell me you don’t need a guinea pig, even if just for a weekend:
Let go of the telephone shouting match you just had with a deranged British woman who insisted she was very close friends with an Academy Award-winning director and this song was going to take her to the top if only you would stop ruining her life and her future and the Academy Award-winning director’s film by being difficult. Let go. Let go.
Now take a deep breath, and look deep into the jewel on my turban. Let go of the irrational thought that she is going to burst into your office and try to karate chop you any minute now. Let go. Let go.