flapping my flippers furiously If I were still in a horrible punk rock band I would write a song called "Disposable Culture, Reusable Lies". I don't have a point, I just like the name. You could make a great, cheesie song with a title like that. The poor litter the sidewalks! A smile litters your plastic face! Your lies litter the airways! And so on. Horrible. Anyway, not much going on here. Still waiting to see if I'm going to get unemployment benefits. Please, PLEEZE, please let me get unemployment so that I can stay home with Monkey in relative comfort. Of course, to get unemployment, you have to be actively looking for a job, turning in resumes, etc. I have a plan that will allow me to turn in resumes and still not get hired, what with my fantastic education, experiences, references and work record and all. My plan is to mention that I am a felon. On the resume. Pure genius!!!! And if that doesn't work, I'll dye my hair neon pink and baby blue. Which sounds like a good idea anyway. Actually, I'm not sure I have the cojones to mention that I'm a felon on my resume. I mean, what heading would I put it under? Other Experience? I will not feel badly for my intense desire to suckle at the foul governmental teat, however. I pay lots of money to the government, and I agree with very few of their spending habits. All those people that agree with bombing little countries into the pre-disco era for extremely dubious reasons, but don't agree with "safety net" programs, can pretend that all of their money goes to "defense" spending, and that will allow me to pretend that all of my money goes to happier things, like unemployment and public schools. I guess I could make some joke about public schools at this point, but I'm too lazy. Probably due to my poor education. Ha. I finally talked to a couple of the Cuban ladies that live across the street. They live in a duplex identical to ours, and they fit about 8 people in there it looks like. I don't want to think about it. But they were drawn over by the cuteness of my baby and we got into a small conversation. They filled me in on all the neighborhood gossip, saying that the lady with alzheimer's was hauled off to a home a few weeks ago and left her cats (which now follow me around), and that our former duplex mate also left his cat. Cats, cats everywhere and not a drop to drink. We're all leaving food out for them, poor buggers. And one of the ladies asked me what country I was from! I thought my Spanish was a good deal more halting than that. It's been a while since I've had a chance to use it, and the Nicaraguan Spanish that I learned was never the most dignified dialect to begin with. But I digress. From what subject, I know not. Yesterday we went on a pleasant outing to the White River. That is kind of an unfortunate name for a river, or maybe I just have a sick mind. Actually, it was so pleasant that I have nothing to recount about it here. |