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Perma Penguin
menthol case
08/27/2007 = 12:01 PM


À propos of nothing, I write a pretty decent beer haiku, if I do say so.

Moving on.

I used to say I don't hate people, I just hate the things they do.

Like OJ Simpson writing If I Did It, the "hypothetical" treatise of the murder of his ex-wife and a friend of hers. I don't know him. But I hate the almighty fuck out of his writing that book.

Or Michael Vick. Again, don't know him, but hate with blind fury what he did to those dogs.

For money.

I'm broke beyond all measurements of pennilessitude, and never once did it occur to me that active participation in animal cruelty would be a reasonable option to make ends meet. I think you have to be a special brand of nasty for that to seem like a good idea.

Mind you, if Michael Vick, a few years from now, decides to write a "hypothetical" treatise called If I Killed Puppies, I will have no choice but to hate him.

Fortunately, if I were then, hypothetically, to run across him and accidentally shove his face into an industrial-sized vat of menthol decongestant and hold his head down until he suffocated, the line of suspects would be so long that it would take them years to get to me.

By which point, I will have written a "hypothetical" treatise called If I Vapo-Rubbed Vick, and I won't give a damn if I have to go to the chair just on the basis of having written a book with that clever of a title.

These are the things that occur to me when I have gone for exactly five years (as of the 18th of August) without having even a single puff of a cigarette.

I got a present for my smokeaversary. It is the Awesome.

I'd have posted about it sooner, but, as I mentioned, I kept not having my camera and my present in the same place at the same time. So, without further ado:

Red Swingline Stapler
Excuse me, I believe you have my stapler.

This stapler is The Bomb. It multitasks, in that it secures papers and is, as previously mentioned, the Awesome.

I'm not saying it would have cured Mother Teresa's crisis of faith (I give that woman mad, mad, posthumous propers for being patient and continuing to help others when she felt so very miserable and lonely), but it might have cheered her up a little. If she was still here, I'd give it to her.

Unlike Milton's, mine is very clearly personalized, so you can borrow it but don't even try to keep it, unless you're planning on changing your name, or unless you don't mind my possibly setting the building on fire.

(If you want a stapler like this, let me know. It was custom-painted for me by one of my coworkers and you can be hooked up. He also paints other random things, like computer speakers and telephones.)


Tags: ;

drinking: amp overdrive energy beverage fizzy-lifting drink
listening to: Chris DeBurgh, Don't Pay the Ferryman
feeling: congested. (summer cold or something)



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