Tag Archives: ennui

Slinging the Levers

I got on the commie bread line at a Polish church this morning for thirty minutes in the cold to vote, like people.  Far too late came Mary’s suggestion that I wait in the Escalade and have a migrant worker stand for me. That’s how Romney votes, he is a job creator!

So I inked my little ovals for the Kill All the Little People Party and got my dram of potato vodka and was then ready to ride from the land of no working subway into the freezing blasts to the city.  Last night at my theravada massage, my guru suggested I needed some empathy exercising.  I know “what’s that?”  Apparently my compassion organ has shriveled like a sad balloon from last New Year’s.  Other people have things a lot worse than I do, apparently.  My local market is out of Lapsang Suchong!  But there are also the homeless.  I know, because one looked at me today in a way that displeased me.

I digress.  The important thing to remember as I wear my manicure to a ragged state looking at election returns is that it hardly matters if you voted for one War Pig or another.  The rich will still be rich, the poor will still be poor, and the ugly will need vouchers for facial reconstruction.



This pictogram probably warns of some kind of accident regarding a wheel.  But I prefer to think of it as this poor fellow being crushed beneath the weight of his own existentialism.  He does not cry out, only barely manages to raise a weak appendage.  Clearly, he is doomed.

Of what were we talking?  Oh yes, the fruitless course of our natural existence.  Was that not it?  No?  Oh you were about to pass me some xanax and a Hendrick’s mule.  You’re true blue! What would I do without you?  Chew apart my splendid manicure, for one.  Which would be a shame, because it took patience and care to make my finger tips spell “unloveable”, as Morrissey would have them.  Sanity may be shattered but the dirty glamour, saved.  We have our priorities. 

I am still searching for the right extraordinary human artist to share in my studio space odyssey.  My favorite inquiry so far said, in its entirety, “Do I hoave to authenticate?”(sic).  I have zero idea what was going through that individual’s mind.  Probably very little, but the answer would have to be “yes!”  Authenticate, sir, or be gone!