By George! I Think They Got It! (not)

Today, I engaged in a political war of words with the big, barrel-shaped, construction men at the place I frequent Monday thru Friday in order to make money to support my stubbed-toed-like social life. Oh, to most, the place I am referring to is simply known as a job or career.

I didn’t want to pull out the political bazookas so early on in the Blog game. But, Alas! I was armed with an extra large Dunkin’ Donuts coffee and spitting angry after the big lugs cornered me.

While the spinsters are busying themselves with rewriting history and the guys are biting at the silver, lie-tipped hook, I felt it necessary to remind them that our “initial” offering of aid to the tsunami victims was $15 million, not $ 35 million. $ 20 million was tacked onto the “initial” $ 15 million after an accusatory statement by Jan Egeland, UN Emergency Relief Coordinator, regarding rich countries and their stingy offerings.

$ 35 million! I sneeze at that too! The offer is like a few pennies jangling around in the pit of a prize-sized cauldron. * Phhht-Hmmmphhhh*

If George Bush were a penguin, I bet he couldn’t even fly. He’d be the worst sort of penguin the Earth has ever borne. But what does that have to do with anything? Nothing. Nothing. Like he'd even care about penguins or any other kind of live thing to know I am insulting him, and not very well. No, George Bush is off, still pressuring Mother Nature for a blow job.

Enough said. No. No. Not enough said.

If George Bush’s cabinet were a flock, gaggle, school (someone please correct me on this) of penguins, they would be the worst flock, gaggle, school (again) of dang penguins in the Milky Way.

I suppose we can now continue offering rewards of $ 5 mil to capture a single cartel leader in Columbia, $ 500 mil on a single space shuttle launch, $ 90 mil to faith-based organizations to knock on doors of single moms in poor neighborhoods to advise them on the benefits of getting hitched to their men, $210 billion to the Iraq debacle, et al.

Well, how gracious, you stupid penguins, every last one of ya! I bet the penguins wouldn’t even have them!

Damn it.

My apologies to penguins. And, yes, I know that penguins cannot fly, anyway.

On a sidebar note, Lisa asked for a list of 5 songs she should legally download from ITunes. Here are my recommendations.

The Funny Thing About a Dead Hibiscus Is...

Continuing to water a deceased hibiscus is an activity one might naturally be inclined to partake in, even if there are like a zillion other hibiscus’ on Earth. One, in some Great Goddess of All Plant Life Complex, might have been toying with the unsuspecting plant to prove it’s superiority over the thing. Lightly nudging it’s parched clay pot to the edge of a scorching porch stair, leaves flaccid and buds sagging, panting for a drink. And then, the cool shock of a pitying garden hosed blast brings the little flora back to a brilliant hiccup. And so the pattern goes.

And me, I’m just an orange tree. And it’s fucking Florida.

I wonder what if feels like to have someone fawning in regret over my shriveled leaves. Instead, I’m just sitting, dropping fruit. Fucking orange trees can be pretty cool, you know. We are feeding the world, man!

While the hibiscus, it just looks pretty.

And well, damnit, what I wouldn’t give to be a hibiscus.

First and Lame

I have not a clue how to create a blog. The Aries side of me, the side of me who is conceited, wanted to post a reply to Jen's Blog (Known to my circle of friends as, "You know, 'My Ex-Jen from Seattle'") and not wanting to be known as some mere anonymous schlub who crawls Blog Pages all day. Thus, I have created this page. My guess is the whole newness of my blog will wear off about as quickly as my fond likeness of Friendster, I will be done with it as soon as I figure out the following:

1. It will not help me get chicks and I should stay with face to face approach shots like, "Hey, aren't you in a band?"
2. I have no one interested in my life, this includes strangers as well as friends
3. Stupid Biters, also known as screenplay writers, ripping off my ideas about pirates