Wednesday, May 25, 2005

You Want I Should Break-a You Face?

So, that article linked below (and, what the hell, once more right here. It's not every day yours truly's in a newspaper, so why not put it up on the old electronic fridge?) is the reason I've been a-bloggin' at odd hours. I wrote the piece on Monday and had to edit it on Tuesday, exercises that occupied my daily allotment of work-shirking and duty-skirting. If I can parlay this into some kind of high paying career, I should really send Britney Spears a thank you note. She's a bubbling font of blog fodder and op-ed material. I tip my proverbial hat.

Lest I teeter too long at the dizzying height of newspaper writing's bottom rung, it should be noted that I am composing this in between photocopying chapters of the same manuscript I was photocopying last week. The only indication that any time has passed at all is the slowly dwindling pile of remaining chapters and the newly dead fluorescent tubes directly above the copier. The gray bleakness of my work day is no longer strictly metaphorical.

I literally photocopy in the darkest recess of my entire office.

But, on the bright side, it is a beautiful 42-degree spring morning. A fine, cold rain is cheerily falling from the ominously black clouds. My iPod is delightfully broken. Instead of music, I got to listen to a fascinating, hour-long conversation this morning on the train between fifty-year-old women exploring the depth of their love for American Idol finalist Bo Bice. I hummed along to the musical stylings of my seat-partner's sleep apnea and gazed at the beautiful scenery--namely, Sing-Sing prison, home of the first execution by electric chair.

Oh, what a beautiful mornin'! Oh, what a beautiful day!

I got a beautiful feelin' someone put a hit out on me. I've been getting strange phone calls since yesterday from blocked IDs. Twice someone left a message; once a man named "Tony" said I didn't have to "pick him up", because "Bob" would "drive him home" and the second time "Joe" from a "tree service" said "Tony" told him to get in contact with me about "scheduling an appointment" to "take a look at that tree." He also went on to say that he was trying to reach "Kathy Cabella," and that if I'm not her, he hopes I "have a nice day."

I see one black sedan following me today and my ass is headed to Canada before you can say who said ketchup-flavored chips were allowed? "Tony" sent "Joe" to "check out my tree?" Sure. And Jimmy Hoffa's just been in the bathroom for a while. I don't know who I pissed off, but unless I wanna be "sleeping with the fishes," or "wearing cement shoes," or "bleeding from a head wound," I'm thinking that maybe I should just pack up and seek asylum north of the border. The exchange rate's in my favor and I like flannel.

Should I disappear, know that I loved you all dearly. But Britney most of all.

5 Comments:

Blogger Ole Blue The Heretic said...

Britney is a columnist and comedians best friend.

1:30 PM  
Blogger What'sHerFace said...

Ain't it the truth.

1:38 PM  
Anonymous mombi said...

congrats, aren't you just the cat's

pajamas
meow
nip

1:55 PM  
Blogger DMo said...

Please do something about your craptacular weather. I'll be in NY starting tomorrow afternoon and expect sunny skies. Also, a red carpet.

Thanks!

10:23 AM  
Blogger What'sHerFace said...

It's still gonna be freezing, so SUCK ON THAT.

As for the red carpet, I'll have it dry cleaned.

10:55 AM  

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