August 17, 2002

I remember her from back in the day. She joined my family when I was still all about the family because I did not know you could escape the family. I was young but it was just before I realized that I did not have to participate in the family or at least not the minor bullshit – just the major family shit like Christmas and weddings. It was definitely pre-puberty but I was almost there. It was right before I started playing family when I wanted family and only when I wanted family. Nothing more. Nothing less.

She joined the family. She was a welcomed change of pace because she was not already a member of the family. She had some different stories. She had some different opinions. She had some different recipes. She was not more of the same at family functions because she was not there from the beginning. I liked this lady because she was an adult but she was not already one of them. I liked her because she saw the Who when Keith Moon was still alive and she saw the Who when Keith Moon was dead and she knew the difference.

You either love or hate the new person in the family because they are the new person and you have to make an decision. I chose love because of the Who thing and some new side dishes at Thanksgiving dinner.

I have very few memories of this lady because I hit puberty and dropped the family thing as she was joining – definitely before she added any new members to the family. I have one major memory of her that I want to share. She was passionate about her products. All of the products that she had chosen to consume – that was her shit and she defended it like God or country. She said that she was down with Peter Pan Peanut Butter. Really down. She was so down that she would never eat another brand of peanut butter because they were all, compared to Peter Pan, garbage or shit. At the time, I did not care about products so her passionate endorsement of Peter Pan Peanut Butter or any other product that she chose as hers did not matter to me. But I thought it was weird – such conviction - and it stuck with me. I have since become devoted to products. For example, I will only use Crest Toothpaste. All others are detestable tubes of puke. The thing is I will only tell people about my passion for Crest if asked. This lady will go off on her products of choice unprompted and unchecked with such fervor that you would think that she was a paid endorser. It is pretty wild.

She hipped me to two of her current favorites today: Vanilla Coke and Krispy Kreme Donuts. I had never tried either. She was flabbergasted that I wouldn’t have already chose her products and wanted to watch my face when I took my first sip off Vanilla Coke. It sucked. She told me that she hated donuts, except for Krispy Kreme, and forced several on me – gauging my reaction again. I liked the donuts. They were better than most. But I am not going to get crazy hot or crazy cold over either – you know what I am saying.

But we are all consumers. That is what we are. That is all we are. We were born to work to earn money to aid consumption. What we consume is the sum of our existence. Shouldn’t we be excited about it?

posted by Thea at 8:57 PM

August 16, 2002

I am in between this and that and I don’t have too much time to write or too much to say. I just got back from my jog. Whereas last night I was reeling in triumphant triumph, tonight I felt as if I was about to give the death hoot while trucking down Lake Avenue. It was too damn humid and I ran like shit. This is what BLOGGING is all about - sharing the victory and the defeat. Tomorrow will be another day… blah blah blah… I will live to see it… blah blah blah… Move your mind and your ass will follow… blah blah blah blah blah blah blah…

posted by Thea at 9:52 PM

August 15, 2002

I started running again on June 17, 2002 after a ten-month lay off. It started with me rapping with my boys at the office about how out of shape we are. I boasted that if I could not run a mile that night then I did not deserve to live. My boys said bullshit. I ran the mile but was so slow it almost did not count. I went to work the next day and sadly gave my progress report. I also promised that I would be able to run a 5K in 24 minutes by Labor Day. To that, I also got bullshit. Tonight I hit it in 24:56. So, how am I going to shave off that last minute in two weeks? Better yet, what did I do today that made me run slower? One. I ate a big hamburger (HAMbooger) for lunch. That will make you sleepy. Two. I then ate a mound of disgusting Chinese food for dinner. I will never eat anything that is both sweet and sour again. Sweet or sour. Make up your fucking mind. Three. I made sweet love with my wife after dinner. That wiped me out. Four. I ran at night when you can’t see so good and the sidewalks on Lake Avenue are crowded with fat asses walking their dogs or kids or just hauling that big fat ass. I think that if I take care of all of those mistakes, I will be able to hit that goal with no problem. Take that, player haters. I know I should not worry because player haters are going to hate and talk all that shit, so fuck them.

What is up with white trash dudes who used to carry pocket knifes on their belts carrying cell phones instead?

“The world is getting sloppy. Spanky is dead.” - Andrej Cuturic

posted by Thea at 10:15 PM

August 14, 2002

I got screwed at work today. Not the good way that happens in the file room or on a desk in an empty office but in the bad way that includes me doing too much of somebody else’s work. I was screwed, man, and it sucked.

There are a couple of good things about working too much too fast. One is that time flies by real quick when you are on a deadline and working under the gun. I usually watch the clock for most the day and try to think of things to kill time – wandering around aimlessly and bugging people. There is no need to do that when you are getting jammed by one of your co-workers into doing their work. All I did today is work and the time just melted away. The other good thing about being overworked is that you can tell anybody that calls you and wants you to do some stupid shit for them to go to hell because you have too much to do. Too busy, I got to say, I am way too busy for you to bother me now with your stupid shit. Shutting people down is another great by product of work overload.

The bad part is I have more of the same tomorrow and I don’t want to work.

I have learned things on the job. I work for a law office. Part of my job is reading depositions of people who have broke the law. Through my readings over the years I have learned how to defraud people out of loads of money in almost every single way imaginable. I think you always get caught but it seems like the price you have to pay is never worse than the mad loot that you got to rip off. Where do criminals learn new and exciting ways to commit crimes? In prison. Where do law abiding office workers learn how to perfect stock and mortgage scams? In the law office. Maybe I should be putting this knowledge into action? What do you think? Didn’t Dostoyevsky write in the joint? Hmm… I wonder.


posted by Thea at 9:08 PM

August 13, 2002

First off, big ups to listener Don for his www.yourethemannowdog.com website and killer travel log on his trip to San Francisco, CA. He has raised the bar as far as BLOGGING is concerned. I am lifting my oppressors for him as I write.

Secondly, my neighborhood, which used to be Thea’s neighborhood and Carolyn’s neighborhood and the Sinner’s neighborhood and the Webmaster Flying V’s neighborhood and more cool people than I could name’s neighborhood until they all moved away, has some parking problems. Not as many as back in the day because all of the new residents seem to effectively utilize public transportation allowing them to douse their chips and dab their bingo dabbers and fo their hams while the RTA acts as their own private limousine service. But, on street parking remains a problem – especially for this fat bitch who keeps on hogging (I mean HOGGING) two spots with his fatmobile. He sucked up two spots tonight. I hate that. I ran tonight completely pissed off at this blubberous jackass and planned on confronting him, my white whale, when I got back from the jog. He must of sensed that I was warming up my cinder block arm because the car was moved when I got home. Please, listeners of the Assholier than Thou Good Times Happy Friends Monday Morning Radio Show, learn to park. And then show the non-listener how to park. I am begging you. And then we can all maybe focus on driving after the parking thing is settled. It will make the world a better place.

Lastly, I was talking to one of my boys at work who was pining away for the days when he used to do nothing and was sad that he was not doing nothing now and he was looking forward to the day when he could do nothing again. Doing nothing – that may be what it is all about. Dare to dream… of nothing.

posted by Thea at 9:28 PM

August 11, 2002

Well, the computer seems to be working fine. That’s good. I am looking forward to years and years of obsessive BLOGGING and keep track of those BLOGS on my home computer. This is a happy day – almost as happy as the day that I figured out that I could marry my manic work habits and writing. Oh, that was a sweet day. I asked myself if I just told myself that I could have all the fun of counting words and producing endless amounts of highly focused minutia concerning itself mainly with the origins and evolution of nothingness. Oh, blessed day. Oh, glorious day of recognition of the importance of manufactured purpose and the realization of the precise order and design of accomplishing that goal of imagined reason.

Today was a typical summer Sunday. I ran, read the paper, did some yard work and then tackled a couple of the billions and billions of projects that need to be completed on the exterior of my house. I listened to the Velvet Underground and now I am about to watch some cartoons on television. This is every Sunday for me during the summer. Plus or minus the Velvet Underground. Plus or minus some other jams. The only thing special about today is that this entire BLOG was composed with a gentle old man Southern accent. Read it again with that in mind and enjoy.

posted by Thea at 7:33 PM