You're killing my buzz, bro
So, Quint fell into my evil trap of entrusting the most important blog in the world to me...mooohooohahahahaha. I think I'll follow Bush's lead with the budget surplus his predecessor entrusted him and just blow it all to hell.
Before I head off on my grand weekend adventure to...drumroll, please...CAMPTON, NEW HAMPSHIRE!...I figured I should say a quick "hi" to Quint's loyal following. Over the weekend I will likely be too stoned to type.
Let's see, it says here on the To Do list that Quint left me that Friday is traditionally reserved for the news roundup, so I will do my best:
1) Iraq: Still plugging away at our collective bum.
2) Torture: Good news! It's OK again. Boy, am I glad those brave few Republican Senators stood up and forced the administration to compromise--we almost started torturing people again last week. That would've been too soon. Run and grab those jumper cables from the trash before they haul 'em away.
3) School shootings: Back again. They're the bell bottoms of crimes.
4) George Allen: Still racist! Currently hating: black people.
5) Pedro Martinez: currently causing 1.2 million heart attacks in the NY metro area, at least one in Boston, and one in Scotland. My left arm feels tingly. Please, you crazy little gheri-curled nutjob, HEAL. At least we in Boston can take solace in the prospect of a fall in which nobody's yelling about the damn Sox. Perhaps I'll get some fucking sleep.
And now, to the original reason for this post...I was in the CambridgeSide Galleria mall last night, because I wanted to exchange my new Razr cellphone for a phone that will actually last me beyond the 15-day return period. And because I wanted to practice diving out of the way of bullets. As I approached the mall, I saw and heard the fire alarm going off in the office of Represenative Michael A. Capuano (motto: "Hi!"). As you might expect of a Congressman from metro Boston, his office is located beneath a Dunkin' Donuts. No, I'm sorry. Beneath the Galleria. Anyway, I proceeded into the mall.
Whereupon I was assaulted by the sound of fire alarms. Turns out alarms in the entire mall were going off. AND PEOPLE WERE STILL SHOPPING. CASUALLY, DARE I SAY. PRACTICALLY SAUNTERING THROUGH THE AISLES. Now, being your intrepid man on the scene, I could hardly leave. I needed to report on what was going on for you loyal readers. But these idiots? Risking death by immolation so they could buy knockoff perfume from that guy at the kiosk? (Side note: I HATE that fucking kiosk. It smells like kiddie porn.) These people were sheep.
And then it hit me that perhaps George W. Bush was onto something. Pry open your long-term memories to a little-recalled date: September 11, 2001. We've practically forgotten about it by now, but a slight mishap befell us on that day. Thankfully, amidst the death, chaos, destruction, tears, fear, and uncertainty, we took comfort in the arms of a president with a message. And that message was, "Shop. We will take care of everything. In fact, grab me some pork rinds while you're at the supermarket. I'm running low."
Many Americans took umbrage at the fact that in such a time of national crisis, when the nation yearned to act. Slightly fewer Americans actually understood the term umbrage. I digress. "We want to help!" we said. "Tell us where to go, where to sign up, where to donate blood, food, clothing. Tell us what to sacrifice."
"Shop," he said. And we were revolted.
But what if he was on to something? I witnessed it myself. Nobody wanted that fucking fire alarm to get in the way of their search for stuff. Is this a result of the fact that in the past 5 years we've been conditioned to keep the engines of commerce churning in the face of mortal peril? I'd like to think so, because that means we can blame yet something else on The Idiot in the Ten Gallon Hat Emblazoned with the Presidential Seal. But what if he was instead a keen observer of human behavior, playing to our deeply held instinct to keep doing the one thing we all can do: spend money? That, in my mind, is the scarier prospect. What if we really ARE all just wandering about, waiting for someone in a helmet to turn that damn buzzer off so we can compare prices? "Could you keep the shooting down? I can't concentrate."
Just a thought. More importantly, I got a new cell phone. An LG, like my last one. It's pretty and I can download music.
Before I head off on my grand weekend adventure to...drumroll, please...CAMPTON, NEW HAMPSHIRE!...I figured I should say a quick "hi" to Quint's loyal following. Over the weekend I will likely be too stoned to type.
Let's see, it says here on the To Do list that Quint left me that Friday is traditionally reserved for the news roundup, so I will do my best:
1) Iraq: Still plugging away at our collective bum.
2) Torture: Good news! It's OK again. Boy, am I glad those brave few Republican Senators stood up and forced the administration to compromise--we almost started torturing people again last week. That would've been too soon. Run and grab those jumper cables from the trash before they haul 'em away.
3) School shootings: Back again. They're the bell bottoms of crimes.
4) George Allen: Still racist! Currently hating: black people.
5) Pedro Martinez: currently causing 1.2 million heart attacks in the NY metro area, at least one in Boston, and one in Scotland. My left arm feels tingly. Please, you crazy little gheri-curled nutjob, HEAL. At least we in Boston can take solace in the prospect of a fall in which nobody's yelling about the damn Sox. Perhaps I'll get some fucking sleep.
And now, to the original reason for this post...I was in the CambridgeSide Galleria mall last night, because I wanted to exchange my new Razr cellphone for a phone that will actually last me beyond the 15-day return period. And because I wanted to practice diving out of the way of bullets. As I approached the mall, I saw and heard the fire alarm going off in the office of Represenative Michael A. Capuano (motto: "Hi!"). As you might expect of a Congressman from metro Boston, his office is located beneath a Dunkin' Donuts. No, I'm sorry. Beneath the Galleria. Anyway, I proceeded into the mall.
Whereupon I was assaulted by the sound of fire alarms. Turns out alarms in the entire mall were going off. AND PEOPLE WERE STILL SHOPPING. CASUALLY, DARE I SAY. PRACTICALLY SAUNTERING THROUGH THE AISLES. Now, being your intrepid man on the scene, I could hardly leave. I needed to report on what was going on for you loyal readers. But these idiots? Risking death by immolation so they could buy knockoff perfume from that guy at the kiosk? (Side note: I HATE that fucking kiosk. It smells like kiddie porn.) These people were sheep.
And then it hit me that perhaps George W. Bush was onto something. Pry open your long-term memories to a little-recalled date: September 11, 2001. We've practically forgotten about it by now, but a slight mishap befell us on that day. Thankfully, amidst the death, chaos, destruction, tears, fear, and uncertainty, we took comfort in the arms of a president with a message. And that message was, "Shop. We will take care of everything. In fact, grab me some pork rinds while you're at the supermarket. I'm running low."
Many Americans took umbrage at the fact that in such a time of national crisis, when the nation yearned to act. Slightly fewer Americans actually understood the term umbrage. I digress. "We want to help!" we said. "Tell us where to go, where to sign up, where to donate blood, food, clothing. Tell us what to sacrifice."
"Shop," he said. And we were revolted.
But what if he was on to something? I witnessed it myself. Nobody wanted that fucking fire alarm to get in the way of their search for stuff. Is this a result of the fact that in the past 5 years we've been conditioned to keep the engines of commerce churning in the face of mortal peril? I'd like to think so, because that means we can blame yet something else on The Idiot in the Ten Gallon Hat Emblazoned with the Presidential Seal. But what if he was instead a keen observer of human behavior, playing to our deeply held instinct to keep doing the one thing we all can do: spend money? That, in my mind, is the scarier prospect. What if we really ARE all just wandering about, waiting for someone in a helmet to turn that damn buzzer off so we can compare prices? "Could you keep the shooting down? I can't concentrate."
Just a thought. More importantly, I got a new cell phone. An LG, like my last one. It's pretty and I can download music.
posted by terratiburon at 11:28 AM
2 Comments:
PK, it comes as no surprise that you know what kiddie porn smells like.
Hi!
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