Friday Love/Hate

I hate the end result of the consumer culture we are, not in the general budding 13-year-old hippie girl two weeks after getting free Earth Day literature type of way, but in a grown man frustrated with how shit ain't shit anymore, especially while thinking about how my wife changes that "Box Chevy" song to "green Kia" because yeah, poor fuckers in our society still have four year old Kias with no resale value. Cheap fucking cars for a cheap fucking culture. My wife had tore up the carpet on the floor of our upstairs bedroom where the whole family sleeps in one big room because we are crazy compared to... well, this consumer culture where everybody needs their own room to sleep in, and underneath was the old ass wood with a hole that had been patched up with a flattened piece of tin can tacked into the wood. Very tight style. Patchwork perfection. No one drives patchwork perfection. They drive shiny pieces of shit made a third the cost by Koreans, being the Japanese have tried to be cool by building half their machines with lazy American laborers. Why the fuck don't we piece together our old real metal shit anymore? Plastic and fiberglass, plastic and fiberglass, let's get happy for our plastic and fiberglass. I feel like all the complaining about oil spills and corporate bonuses is a complete sham, because we all live a goddamned plastic and fiberglass life. Real wood is as soft as plastic nowadays because our real wood has no history to make it strong. And an old piece of shit car, box Chevy, real metal, pieced together a couple of times over, patchwork perfection, it's a history of our use of it. It's a lifelong tool more than a possession after a while. That's a dying commodity though. In fact, calling it a commodity is part of the problem. We are the land of the fucking lost, all too glad to be miserable so long as we have something new to be miserable over every so often. Makes me wanna scream fuck at the stars, but then I'd only disrupt my neighbors' peaceful misery again, and the ol' lady would think I had snuck a couple of the hydrocodones again with a pitcher of late night coffee.

I love wearing a surgical mask in public. It's very funny to see people react, on the immediate tip, because they're like, "Why the fuck is someone wearing a surgical mask?" like maybe they didn't know bird-swine flu hybrid had exploded across America that morning and no one told them yet. But when you bump into someone you know or have to interact with anybody, that's even more hilarious. It's painful to talk to someone wearing sunglasses, no doubt, but when you can't see if someone is smiling or not smiling, and you can still see their eyes, that's double awkward. I'm not really trying to fuck with people; I just find the surgical mask in public thing interesting because it makes other folks worried from afar, and uncomfortable up close and personal. Especially at Whole Foods. I hate going to Whole Foods and always refuse to go there even though I work in town and could save the rest of my family the trip. Fuck a Whole Foods. But wearing a surgical mask through Whole Foods, that's funny as shit. Even better is taking it off as soon as you leave the store, and throwing it away in that trash can right beside where you park your cart and carry off your two brown bags of groceries that cost $72.