HAIRSHIRT
Helping You Get the Most Out of Your Misery
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HAIRSHIRT Helping You Get the Most Out of Your Misery |
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Thursday, September 01, 2005Malaise
I'm down. I'm down like Tara Reid at a dance club. Because Tara Reid is a slut and would probably go down on someone when at a dance club and so I'm comparing her to my mood. It's a simile.
Anyway, I can't quite pinpoint the reason for my downosity. It might have to do with the bottles and cans that I can't bring myself to put in the recycling can. It might be the fact that I'm horribly out of shape and so even a simple bike ride around Central Park leaves my thighs screaming like Jamie Lee Curtis in Halloween. It could be that the Eastland Academy blog is going the way of the dodo. Or maybe it's a more noble state of mind, like I'm feeling the pain of the people in New Orleans. Probably it's not that last one, though, because I can't begin to imagine what they must be going through and I'm not sad enough about it to drop what I'm doing and go down there and volunteer or anything. Whatever the reason, though, for this existential funkitude, I just feel like throwing out some venom. So I thought I'd keep things simple today and just write up a list of people to whom I'd like to feed a big slice of pistachio and shit pie. (The pistachios are, I realize, kind of gilding the lily, but I think it makes a little extra statement.) The problem I run into, though, is that there aren't a whole lot of people really pissing me off right now. The waitress in the bar where I met some friends last night was a bit slow, but it didn't piss me off. Martha Stewart talking about what a hellish experience it was to be under house arrest on her gimundous estate and to only be allowed off of it when she really needed to be is a little annoying, but I've never had to go through that, so maybe it does really suck. The mere existence of Ben Affleck is normally enough for me to want to smack somebody, but he's about to be a dad, so I can't really wish him any ill. I guess the only person I can really find it in myself to loathe today is George "Ritz Cracker" Bush, whose administration drained away people and funding that could have helped prevent at least some of the damage to New Orleans. I realize that he's not to blame for the hurricane and I realize that, even if he hadn't cut funding for programs to look into improving the levees, even if his policies hadn't helped to destroy wetlands around the city that might have helped stem the tide, even if he hadn't diverted so many national guard troops to Iraq who might have otherwise been available for disaster relief, this isn't ultimately his fault. But I don't care and he's a fucking asshole. He cut short his vacation by two days? Yippee! He requested that his pilot fly Air Force One over the devastated area? Big fucking deal! The man's financial policies are, in my opinion, at least partially responsible for some of the people who didn't have the means to leave the city. Sorry. Sorry. George Bush is not to blame for this. But fuck him anyway.
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