Dr. Strangelove or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb
There was a woman on the Metra train whose cell phone, when it rang, played Mozart's Alla Turca with a surprisingly good sound quality; you could hear the thirds and everything. I wish she wouldn't have answered it so quickly. But then another cell phone conversation was starting behind me. (i remember when i thought it quite incongrous to see someone on public transportation with a cell phone, especially on the bus, but now the devices are ubiquitious: i've seen bus drivers on cell phones while driving, which is not at all an encouraging phenomenon.) I've always been intrigued by the way people will refer to the early stages of a courtship by saying: "i'm talking to him/her," as if they were engaged in high level negotiations. The young woman behind me on the train happened to be engaged in such a negotiation. She was, i would guess, about 16, and was articulating the requisite terms of any agreement. She explained why the agreement with her last negotiation partner had fallen through: "he was too sexual," and she stated unequivocally that she "needs a lot of attention."
I wanted to suggest to her, if boyfriends fail to meet her exacting demands, she might seek attention by starting a blog.
Here is the comment of the week:
"I think your niche has found you. Your brilliant wit is now being shared with the world, or at least a portion of it. Its great to see you speak to the world about the world and I'm sure no topic can escape your thoughts."
-MAC
Hey, thanx for the sycophantic flattery. There is much that eludes my understanding, but i will continue to type into this unholy abyss for the time being.
Well, this week saw a major victory for the Duct Tape lobby. (The Gaffer's tape people really dropped the ball on this one.) I'm going to go wrap myself in plastic, but before i do, i want to wish a happy valentine's day to all for whom that sort of thing is relevant.
I heard a radio commercial this week wherein a man wonders if he will have to leave the country after forgetting to get his significant other a Valentine's gift. "they don't deport you for that, do they?" he wonders. No my imaginary friend, but they can declare you an enemy combatant and detain you indefinitely.
Thanks for stopping by, Goodnight Amerika.
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