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On the Scene
I normally love communing with Joe Q. Public. The vox populi is always so refreshing. But I'm meeting with mixed results lately. Example? Well, White Trash Woman for starters. Apparently her life has not turned out quite the way she'd like. How does she deal with this? Does she fight for the positive choice? No. Instead she opts to pull hapless documentary crews into her web of an intergalactic vacuumness. Who's Melvin Pendleworth (besides being the only schmoe who would take her to the prom) and why do we care? Blast. I suppose I wasn't at my best because with all the rush, I didn't massage my aura that morning. This is a very important part of my day and I recommend it to anyone who thinks they might have extra-sensory gifts. My lack of massage notwithstanding, I was appalled by some of the behavior I witnessed. Don't people get it? Am I all alone on this planet - I know I'm not when it comes to other planets, so why is it that I so often feel that way on my home planet? And what's with Mark David's incessant appetites? Appetites for junk food, for beer, for women. Arrgghh. And to think for a moment I thought His Hairy Highness was attractive. Was I Wrong-o.
Along with the eternal questions such as why we are here, what's our purpose etc. one will also be: Why women attorneys have to be so harsh. I mean, do they teach a course on that in law school? I was trying to engage her in some conversation important to being a human and she just brushed me off like I was nothing. Which I'm not. Then the always-overripe camera ape, Mark, had to make some comment. I tell you, if it weren't for the strength of my convictions, the cosmic weight I feel to deliver to you what I know, I think I'd just pack up and go sailing for the summer, you know.
I mean, the number of maladjustable malcontents we met the grumpy lawyer, the frightening white supremacist, the Bill Gates Worshipper, et al. Do any of you speak Hip Hop. I am versed in three terrestrial and 2 extraterrestrial languages and I still can't fathom that shit. Ay-oh check - what's that? I usually celebrate any sorta' break from the norm, but I like to understand what I'm celebrating. Ah, well, perhaps language is an overvalued form of communication.
On the spiritual plane, well, that's been unfortunate. I
mean, the number of maladjustable malcontents we met
two overly Christian ladies, Kathy and Sandy. I won't say
which, but one of which was actually overly forward in a I
- want - you - as - my - girlfriend - even - though - I -
married - with - two - kids (minivan inclusive) way. Perhaps
I'm overstating. Maybe she just was friendly. Real friendly.
I had to bounce a "boundaries, please" message out of my third
eye. Seem to work, but I got a peephole installed in my front
door just in case.
Stay tuned for the next installment... coming soon.
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Bling Bling... my Hip Hop guys giving me
the milkshake about Tupac Shakur ("Shakur for Shure")
One very surly lawyer stops to speak on her
way to bailing out some dud out of jail
Kathy and Sandy, our Christian ladies, got
way too close for comfort
See the Next Installment
Crystal talks to the Duo's family.
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