Low on the Hog
I’m becoming some kind of suburban mormon hippie. Sulking against the machine.
Dane lent me some Regina Spektor. She’s sort of a slightly happier, less abstract version of Tori Amos. Who I adore.
I picked up a desk for my home office off of freecycle. My wife found it online. So cheap and juicy! One morning, unshowered, I hopped in the car and headed down there to pick it up, my four-year old son coming along for the adventure.
I am convinced now that you can live well off the leavings of the wealthy. Of course, wealthy is a relative term. I’ve heard that by having a car, a fridge, and a toilet you’re in the top five percent. Anyone want to back that up?
Once, when my wife and I were childless and broke and working for poverty wages, we dreamed of how much money we’d like to make every month. A number that seemed at the time so high (when we were bringing home like $850 a month), more than we could possibly spend, like who could possibly even blow that amount of dough every thirty days, now doesn’t seem like that much. Of course, we were clueless as to how much it would cost to maintain four kids.
She also found three really nice dress shirts, pressed and dry cleaned, for $1.00 each at a garage sale. They are high-thread-count-tastic. I sprayed them with some of my cologne to make them my own. The human version of pissing out my territory.
Say that reminds me of a story. While tracting (door to door) on my mission in Chile (possibly the most onerous task known to man– a labor of love, be nice to them, I believe it’s good karma) we ran into this guy, who in a thick accent called his dog to introduce them to the Mormons. This pony-sized black creature trotted out and sniffed us. Then it lifted a monstrous left leg and gushed out a torrent of musky urine on our dress shoes. “Ali!” he chided (for that was the dog’s name), “bad dog, these are our guests!”. But I think I detected the edges of his lips curling upwards.
And if you made it this far without slipping into a coma, I have published two posts below that I had taken off so as not to inundate you with non-gaming stuff. But what the heck, why let them go to waste.
For those still conscious, I will tell you what I had for breakfast. A ham and egg sandwich on an english muffin with pineapple juice. Nighty night.
For you young people, keep your chin up. Life gets way better. Behind the veil your ancestors are rooting for you. And I’m rooting for you, too. I remember well the electrical storms in my mind.