Well, look at us! All fresh-faced and alert on a Friday! What an attractive group we are!
But we knew that.
But what about the stuff we don’t know? What about the weekend? If only we had a clue, some sort of indication as to what we can expect, how we should dress, how much shredded cheddar we’ll need…
But we do! We do have a clue! It’s in my iPod! The iPod: my commuting comrade, my ambulatory oracle!
O Mighty iPod, what does the morning’s shuffle say about the weekend?
Pardon Me by The Blow
Smiling Faces Sometimes by The Undisputed Truth
Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’ by Michael Jackson
AFK by Pinback
Dance Like a Monkey by New York Dolls
I Would Never Wanna Be Young Again by Gogol Bordello
Message of Love by The Pretenders
Well I think that speaks for itself, doesn’t it? Do you see what I see? That we’ll be meeting at my house and covering the outside of my car with buttons and bottle caps?
Bring your hot glue gun!
And shoot, I know I’ve said it before; but if you could spare it, I could really use a million dollars.
First thing on the list to buy with that mil? Electric fencing around the house, the kind people use on dogs, only for people. I’m thinking a little acid in the drinking water oughta hold the little buggers still until I can get those shock collars around their necks...
Anybody know where I can get some acid? E-mail me. Put the words “Dave’s Not Here, Man” in the subject line.
The next thing I want to get with my million?
My own bus.
The bus this morning, a bus almost a full hour later than the one I usually take, was just downright low-class. Hard to imagine, iddin it?, a bus with low-class characters on it? I found it hard to believe myself. Frankly, who would’ve thought they’d be awake so early in the morning? But there they were, off, if the vocalizations this morning were any indication, to some sort of Baggy-Pantsed Hollering Competition.
Things are looking loud for the 'hood this year – I like our chances.
I’m gonna hold out on buying the shirt until they make it past the Incoherent and Inappropriately Proud prelims, though. Don’t want to end up like last year. My 2009 Shoutin’ and Poutin’ jersey is just embarrassing.
Next thing I want to get? A professional hair brusher. Not a hair brush – a hair brusher. He can stand behind me at my desk and brush and/or braid my hair.
Wait. No. That’s a little self-indulgent, don’t you think?
OK. So it’s between a professional hair brusher and a full-time toady. I haven’t quite decided. I’ve never had my own toady, and I think it’s about time.
You look very nice today, Pearl. Are you losing weight?
Maybe I can get a hair-brushing toady?
So let’s see: electric fencing plus enough collars for my neighborhood, enough acid to get said collars on said neighbors, my own bus, and a hair brusher and/or full-time toady.
The rest I’ll put into mutual funds. Or lottery tickets. Whichever seems more lucrative.
Thought of the day: Certainty
13 hours ago