Ladies and gentlemen, cats and kittens, we’ve done it again. It’s another Friday, another splendid weekend looms, and we wonder once again what it holds.
If only there was a way of knowing…
But wait! Surely you’ve heard? My iPod, set on “shuffle” and played during my morning commute, knows all, tells some.
It’s true!
Oh, play along. I have so little.
Nausea by Beck
Panic by Caravan Palace
Jungle Love by Steve Miller Band
Supertheory of Supereverything by Gogol Bordello
Play for Real by The Crystal Method
Spy vs Spy by Combustible Edison
Mandinka by Sinead O’Connor
The Right Profile by The Clash
Hmmm. A particularly suspicious looking line-up. Nausea, panic, jungle love? What is this, high school?
And just like high school, I've taken up thinking again... You’re gonna love this because, well, let’s see now, I’ve been working on it for a good 30, 45 minutes and I’m pretty sure I’ve got it nailed.
You ready?
Here it is.
The reason women so easily gain weight as they get older – and no, I’m not talking about me! or you, for that matter! – is that once they reach a certain age, the Tribe, whoever the Tribe may be, realizes that said woman is no longer bearing children, has slowed down a bit, and has accumulated enough knowledge so as to be a pain in the hairy backside of whoever is running this here outfit.
At some point, she will be lured out onto the ice, where she will be set adrift.
The extra poundage? It’s to give her a fighting chance of getting off that iceberg.
All of this occurred to me on the bus this morning, when a rude, lanky young man pushed past me with all the indolent sneering of one who has yet to contemplate his own mortality.
He’s not aware of it, but I suspect that in the back of his tiny, wrinkled brain, there is an ice floe with my name on it.
It’s just a theory.
Now if you’ll excuse me – and should anyone need me – I will be hiding in the elevator bank, lying in wait for the pink-cheeked young things working their way up the corporate ladder.
They’re younger than I am, but they’re soft and they’re naive.
And I’ve been training for this for years.
Because before they lure me toward the open water?
I’m gonna get their lunch.
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50 comments:
There is a tricky balance between having enough blubber to live without eating for a week or two, and having the muscles necessary to haul one's behind over the icy landscape when the ice floe finally lands. Be careful eating those lunches! Don't want to tip the balance the wrong way :)
I think there is some merit to you theory. I, for one, know a number of females that appear to be iceberg-bound; who, it would seem, are positively destined to be set adrift at some point in the near future.
It would certainly make more room on the bus.
jenny, it IS a balancing act. This is why I always keep pastries in my pockets and weights around my ankles. I can work out and pig out at hte same time. :-)
Sym, those bus seats aren't getting any bigger, are they?!
While you have them trapped in the elevator take the opportunity to infiltrate their spongy little brains and leave them with something to think about for the rest of the day. Get them Pearl programmed.
It's COLD out here! Can I borrow your sweater?
Delores, trapped in an elevator is the perfect time to start talking to them about the dangers of not flossing!!
fishducky, help is on its way -- and bringing apple schnapps. :-)
Waitaminute...they told me I was going on an Antarctic cruise. That's not what this is???
Shelly, get off the boat!!! Get off the boat!!!
:-)
I wish people in High School would take up THINKING. I don't think many do.
You are skating on thin ice with your theory. have a great weekend
LOL! It's not fat - just the muscle created by experience...
Ah ... I get it, so instead of voting you off the island, they're voting you onto the iceberg, sneaky. I have already noticed this, and I think I am already afloat.
I'm counting on global warming to melt my iceberg.
Bill, I like that. :-) I suspect I've been inching along the thinning ice cap for a while now...
Lady Fi, Oh, thank heavens. :-) Then the Olympics are within reach.
esb, see? That's how they get ya.
Laraine, I'm hoping that something in my demeanor convinces them that I am to be saved. Either that or that I can get a good running start on the little buggers.
Here I just thought they were rude little snots . In any event, whatever you think you can teach them will be an improvement, if accomplished. Go, Pearl.
Flying over the Andes as I do on a bi-weekly basis I am prepared.
If we go down I'm good for at least 6 months.
Yes, but doesn't fat help you to float? Oh God, is that just me?
So, when people see me on lying on the beach, and they try to nudge me back in the ocean, it's because they're trying to help me...so I can get back to my natural habitat (or what they think is my habitat), right?
Yes, fat floats. When I was several months pregnant and carrying plenty of blubber I could float and move through the water like a whale. I could have drowned any pink cheeked snot nosed smart-alec I could catch.
Sometimes I feel like saying to these rude young things, 'You wait, you'll be old(er) one day' but I don't because they might hit me . . .
I'd rethink that. Their lunch is probably Ramen noodles.
Do the pink cheeked youngins even eat lunch anymore?
I will be the old guy out there rescuing ladies from ice floes. I am assuming, of course, the ladies will be grateful.
By the way, this bothered me:
"And just like high school, I've taken up thinking again... "
Were you one of those who actually did some thinking during high school? I'm so disappointed.
Everybody that has been in high school almost knows that a little bit of blubber is better than any iceberg afloat. I know some individuals that float like shapely corks, you couldn't sink them with a torpedo.
That doesn't make them any more pleasant. They get annoyed having to keep polar bears from swimming over and resting on them. Insist on your shippers adding a "private island" sign. That oughta do it. Where's the shipping lane you'll be coasting along in? Lunch too? I say, the hottest iceberg afloat... ":)
Everybody that has been in high school almost knows that a little bit of blubber is better than any iceberg afloat. I know some individuals that float like shapely corks, you couldn't sink them with a torpedo.
That doesn't make them any more pleasant. They get annoyed having to keep polar bears from swimming over and resting on them. Insist on your shippers adding a "private island" sign. That oughta do it. Where's the shipping lane you'll be coasting along in? Lunch too? I say, the hottest iceberg afloat... ":)
Whilst the pink cheeks are getting your ice flow ready ya might just step off and loosen the ropes.
No ice floes round my neck of the woods, but I can imagine being put out to grass! LOL
Go get 'em, Pearl!
This is frickin' brilliant. And hilarious! Good one, P Dawg. :P
I saw that your book was a second printing, so I jumped at the chance to get the new improved version. I am sending it to my mom so she can see what kind of wild dangerous women I hang out with on the Internet.
Interesting and bloody funny at the same time although I thought it was because we get set afloat we are so big we will sink and drown and then not longer a bother to anyone.....
Yank those brats by their droopy drawers. I need to talk to you about an opportunity. Check my blog and email me, please.
My sons have been telling me for years that there is an ice floe and a spear in my future!
Go for it, girl. Just be sure that you stop working before you have to start wearing Spanx every day and have lost your edge. Though I can't imagine that will ever happen to Pearl! LOL! Love your work stories...so reminiscent of days gone by...I quit before it was girdle time. LOL!
"...with all the indolent sneering of one who has yet to contemplate his own mortality"
Pearl, you have such a way with words.
I love it...your way with words. Hit enter before I was ready...durnit
Nausea and panic? Sounds like a normal day around here. I always figure, with my extra weight, I'll last a lot longer than anyone else in a famine or on a deserted island.
I'm rather glad there are no ice floes around here, although there is our red centre to be abandoned in.
I thought I was told that I was ready for an icy root beer float. Are you saying that I got that wrong? I certainly could outlast any of those scrawny, snot-nosed little buggers ice floe or no.
At least, you'll be well fed!
Sitting indoors out of the hot sun in the semi-arid desert as I sit here procrastinating writing yet another paper, this makes sense to me. I used to use the line from Garfield: "I'm not overweight, I'm undertall" now I can shorten that one to "I'm in training for the iceberg", thanks for the new perspective. And when an explatnation is asked for my response will be one of two: 1. One day you will understand or 2. Ask Pearl. :-)
Have a fantastic weekend, cheers.
Sitting indoors out of the hot sun in the semi-arid desert as I sit here procrastinating writing yet another paper, this makes sense to me. I used to use the line from Garfield: "I'm not overweight, I'm undertall" now I can shorten that one to "I'm in training for the iceberg", thanks for the new perspective. And when an explatnation is asked for my response will be one of two: 1. One day you will understand or 2. Ask Pearl. :-)
Have a fantastic weekend, cheers.
I see you bashing him while playing some speed metal on your accordian. What? It would be a beautiful love story.
Mind you the lunches of those skinny Minnies are not usually something to write home about. Steal the lunch of a just married young man instead. While his brand new bride is packing amazing lunches plus treats. And love notes. You will have to be fast though - two weeks after the honeymoon ends and he could be back to buying his lunch. Which will still be better than skinny Minnie's.
I am packed, well-packed, well-marbled, and ready for my ice floe. And we'll give you a few years, dear Pearl, and you'll be able to pack heat too. Not THAT kind of heat, but the kind that will make the ice floe downright comfortable.
I think youre being a bit over dramatic here Pearl my dear friend. But while we're on the subject of water, would you like to come look at my new boat? ..that one over there, by the iceburg....
Yikes ICE and ADRIFT I could hardly get past those words. Will my tribe do that? Yikes. I love your logic I think. B
So, I'm imagining that I've made it off my ice floe; I've metabolized myself to the tune of about thirty lbs. slimmer; I'm done thinking life is over and I've realized that it's time to kick out the jams. What would I do first?
This is almost as good as the If I Won The Lottery game.
This reminds me that when I was still able to ride my bike and I'd be going some 12 miles, and my leg muscles would start to burn, I'd think, if I weighed less, it might be easier. My legs working so hard to carry my lard butt on a seat. Something didn't seem quite right about that.
You're on top of the world! Titanic humor. Never mind. But I do have a word of advice: grab for the purse; those skinny young things are likely only packing a salad.
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