A kind request from Zeke

Hi,
I'm Zeke the Plumber. You may remember me from an episode of "Salute Your Shorts" in which I haunted Michael and Telly's dreams. I'd like to request that the title "The Plumber" be dropped from the political vernacular. I keep getting false alarms to do my haunting. It makes my job tough. Sometimes, I pop up at political rallies. That's pretty embarrassing. It's also having an emotional effect. My demographic are mostly in their mid-twenties. They don't really call on mask-wearing ghosts to do their bidding anymore. I miss the work and all these false alarms, getting my hopes up, are just awful. It just reminds me that I'm obsolete.

Thank you,
Zeke the Plumber

A home inspection company after my own heart

In my endless rambling through the internet, I came across a home inspection company in south-central Indiana called–get this–SHERLOCK HOMES. In Disney's Jungle Book, there's a scene where Mogli laughs at the elephants as they fail to stop and end in a twelve pachyderm pile up. He's rolling and gripping his sides. That's me. I love the name Sherlock Homes so much. I'm well aware that it's probably been done. To death.



Last year, I bought a new iPod. And since I have never synced an iPod to iTunes, my play counts were reset. I also tend to go through music phases. I'll listen to one or two bands for weeks and then not go near them again. All this leads to the discovery that I had only listened to 40% of the 7600+ songs on my new iPod. I've spent the last two weeks listening to anything with a zero play count. I'm up to 47%. I've also deleted a lot of random duplicates.

Disney surprises for two.

Several years ago, Oscar worked a summer at Disney World. Oscar also has a cynical, dry sense of humor. To hear that he loved working at Disney shocks me just a little. To me, Disney is fake and opposite of all that is Oscar. But he was happy. That's my Disney surprise.

Sleeping Beauty just came out on DVD. The first time Oscar and I saw the commercial, I squealed about how much I love that movie. Oscar was so surprised. He hadn't taken me for a Sleeping Beauty kind of girl. That's Oscar's Disney surprise.




Euler is making biscuits on the pillow beside me.

Is America ready for a shoe salesman who sings protest songs?

I thought protest/political singers were all sixty year old stoners who miss the electricity of the sixties. They have bad posture. They're gray balding, but insist on keeping a ponytail. They have beards and wear dreamcatcher jewelry and turquoise.

I hate this.

Also, this:

Why?

Gawk

Dear Kinkos, Stop referring people to us.

My hands smelled like celery. Who knew celery had a smell?
I can be very seat of my pants.

I need to plant a garden. My crop? Nuts. Balls. Testicles.
We had a walk-in today. He was a giant man with lots of jewelry and an unidentifiable accent. He made me extremely nervous. Three words out, and I knew he was the type of man who expected people to cater to him. And that's exactly what I did. He needed business cards. He wanted raised ink. Flat ink. Gold ink. Silver ink. Green ink. Gray ink. He want gold foil. Silver foil. He needed it designed from scratch. And he wanted it tomorrow. Screeching hault! Not possible. We aren't open. We don't do raised ink or foiling in house. Oh, but there must be a way. How bout Sunday? Nope, again, we are not here. Are you sure? Yep. Monday? Let me call the company we use for thermography and foiling. Ring ring. Blah blah. Nope, foiling with ink will take no less than seven days. There is no way to rush it. It needs that time to dry. Having something like that done overnight would defy the laws of printing physics. Long story . . . crap crap crap. The only thing we can have by Monday is a two standard color raised ink card. Pick two of the inks on this page. Okay, that green, gold, and silver. TWO COLORS.


I emailed Oscar requesting an apocalypse, NOW!! This is one of the biggest things I hate and am ashamed about. When I am scared or nervous and do not like whatever situation I am in, the only way out I can see is an apocalypse.