I’ve heard that freedom ain’t free, but then again, Congress passed an important law a few years ago clearly spelling out that all Americans are entitled to “Free Dumb Fries” and would no longer have to be subjected to those horrible French fries that we’ve been, well, subjected to ever since TJ went to France. I know what you’re thinking–Finally, proof that our diets are making us not just fat, but also less intelligent, but wait a minute. I am talking potatoes boiled in oil–FREE! The only thing is, places around here are still charging a dollar or more for FREE DUMB FRIES, which the government guaranteed us as a FREE replacement for French fries. It takes a while for these things to trickle down (just ask Ronald Reagan, who, I am sure, would have 100% supported Free Dumb Fries or maybe fried jelly beans, anyway), but still, come on. I bet I could get them in France.
It’s hard to believe but Susan just DIS-invited me to to a party she’s having for people who have dogs (Or was it jobs? Or who jog?). She tried to say it was because of global warming and as soon as Al Gore gave the ok, she was re-inviting me. But I’ve heard that before. In fact, I’ve said it before as an excuse as to why I had to cancel my Hee-Haw party, but frankly, I expected more of Susan.
I told her that my dinner plans were still at her house and that I’d be by sometime between 3 p.m. and midnight to pick up my food. She said that was fine, which made me think that the party wasn’t really cancelled, but that I was just no longer a guest. I’m not overly fond of dogs, anyway, because if I wanted to be sniffed, licked, and whined at, I’d run out and get me some more kids as I have just recently gotten my own to the stage where they slam things and stomp off instead of biting me like they used to. And I’m not too keen on jogging because I’ve spent the last nine months recovering from a summer of training for and running a 5K with nothing but my legs and feet (which I had to walk part of). I definitely can’t get any jobs after frittering away my prime working years staying home with a bunch of whiny people who licked and sniffed me all day.
So, in every case, I don’t think I am invited to Susan’s secret on-again, off-again party for gainfully-employed, physically-fit pet enthusiasts. I’m not mad, but just wait ’til Al Gore hears about this.
I just hate public parks because to create and maintain them, it would take valuable yacht money away from the job creators! Gosh! It would be just awful. Plus, we plebeians can always go to the “playlands” at corporate fast food restaurants which are just as good, if not better, than being outside, which everybody knows is so fraught with dangers, anyway. I really prefer eating a lot of empty calories while hanging around in a noisy, germ-filled room full of crying toddlers to natural settings where somebody might fall down on grass and sue.
I am posting again because I need to be out walking and I hate walking by myself around my neighborhood like a rat in a maze unless, of course, I am going down to the drugstore to buy some chocolate and/or bags of chips, so this is my way of procrastinating. I’m “working” on my blog, so I can’t be bothered with something like exercise. I am thinking really hard about getting out and getting going as you can see by the serious way I am approaching it in this post and soon I won’t even need to go to the drugstore as a motivation, which would also cancel out the health effects of walking if I eat a whole bag of chips. Soon, very soon, I will stop typing and walk outside. I mean, practically any minute now. Really. The next time you see me I will have walked. Also, I may have bought some chips or leftover chocolate bunnies at the drugstore because they are so on sale.
Today my friend got me to drink a “special” glass of apple cider and I immediately went into a sort of sugar coma and had to rest my eyes for the next two hours before I could drive home. I thought about telling her to get her butt off the couch we were sitting on in the bookstore so I could lay down, but I thought that was maybe going too far. There was a pretty nice-looking coffee table right next to us she could have sat on, though. We were pumped up on the way to the restaurant and bookstore because we were two ladies out on the town and we were talking super fast and exchanging deep, insightful women-type information, but by the time I left the restaurant, I was slouching and looking like a cotton-eyed dummy without a word to say for myself. I had had big plans to go out for a wildflower walk, but that seemed super ambitious after that and I thought when I got home, I probably better lay around and watch TV instead.
My last post a few weeks ago was a hard-hitting expose on the impacts of the economic downturn on our blog, which I scientifically measured by checking how many poor saps were still reading it even though we never post anymore (don’t worry, poor saps, here is another piece of Marie Antoinette’s cake for you from one poor sap to another-that is, my blog is the mythical cake you are supposed to be eating when you have no bread–is this analogy just really going off the rails here or what?). However, with my keen powers of observation, I have detected another measure of the societal ills we face, specifically, lack of big hair.
That’s right. Hair size has been on a steady decrease since the 1980’s until girls are forced to go out and purchase flatteners or straighteners or whatever they call those heinous devices to completely take any poufiness out of their hair, until it is as flat as the hair from the 60’s that had to be ironed on a ironing board, which led to all manner of licentious 60’s behavior and the general unraveling of traditional society as we know it. Once again, it was up to us 80’s kids to uphold morality and hair volume with only our pure hearts, curling irons, and huge cans of Aquanet.
I have been looking at class pictures lately and have noticed this decline in hair size (and good behavior and economic power-they’re all related) since the 80’s. And I believe I have finally found the cause for all our problems.
It certainly is hard times and you can tell because even though Susan and I never post anymore, there are still sometimes ten people a day lurking around this broke-down old blog dumpster looking for blog crusts. It reminds me of the depression when my grandma could barely afford to keep her blog up and had to wrap it in old bread sacks and hide it under her mattress. She would have shot and ate her blog if she could have. Well, here’s a few simple lines I’ve written, hoping they’ll keep your little recession hearts warm. God bless us, everyone.