Here’s a gaggle of thoughts rattling around inside my head. Instead of using a straight line to separate each subject, I’m using pics from Moveable Type, a sound and vision permanent installation in the lobby of The New York Times building. Two walls of digital screens pars the Times archive and randomly display sentences.
Recently, an acquaintance told her boss she had an appointment and would be a few hours late for work. He assumed it was related to the new baby, but it wasn’t. She attended a Fashion Week event in Midtown. Her boss saw the selfie she posted to Facebook and promptly fired her. Social media fail.
Either keep that shit off Facebook or DON’T FRIEND YOUR BOSS
The dog and I don’t like each other very much. To me, dogs are needy, dirty and expensive to maintain. They’re like having a bad boyfriend/ girlfriend. Plus, they’re mentally dull. They eat poop.
But last Saturday morning I walked downstairs and saw Coco curled up on the sofa. She looked all fluffy and sweet. I got a warm pang in my chest that felt like genuine affection. I approached to give her a scratch and make friends. Here’s how I was greeted:
My Bride was a little tired so Daughter and I volunteered to do the weekly grocery shopping. Can someone tell me what the hell this is?
Is there a big demand in the New Jersey suburbs for this? It could be scrumptious for all I know but I won’t eat it because it’s got the word “dick” in it. To each his (or her) own.
Daughter-the-Eldest is attending her first boy/girl party at her friend’s house tomorrow night. I am almost catatonic with anxiety. All I can think about are the many suburban bacchanals I attended. I know what goes on in those wood-paneled basements. My two sisters have successfully talked me down off a window ledge. Told me to trust her. It has helped but that doesn’t change the fact that men are scum. I’m still praying that both daughters are GAY.
I work with a hypochondriac. By all appearances she seems fine, but every conversation revolves around what’s currently ailing her. What aches. What’s robbing her of her sleep. Why she needs to leave early to see another doctor. It’s endless.
Our company nurtures its employees. To that end, she’s convinced them to install a “standing” desk (at a cost to the firm of $500). The keyboard and monitor are on a platform that can be raised and lowered, allowing her to stand and work. But oftentimes, after standing for a spell, she’ll sit down but not lower the platform because she’s LAZY. It results in this:
Well, that can’t be good for her perpetually achy back.
I saw this at the local fall festival. It’s exactly what my quiet, lily white, middle class New Jersey hamlet needs: a military grade, armor plated attack vehicle with a cannon-mount turret.
You never know. ISIS might be paddling up the Passaic River as I type this. Thank you, Department of Defense overstock program! Feeding the egos of pencil-pushing weekend warriors and chubby suburban cops since Operation Desert Storm.