'tis the season to be ....you know.
The Mega million Buck season is upon us once again. Just when I thought that it was safe to emerge from the EB(Election Bunker) and start burping turkey feathers in honor of the religious fanatics and escapees from the fanatics- hope they booked separate cruises over- the BUY ME blitz broadsided me.
Can't turn around without seeing something enticing, glitzy, high-tech, action-filled, gotta-have, new wave, old rip-off, ronco-esque, surefire, and prohibitively expensive. Don't anyone need it, can't anyone afford it, ain't anyone gonna remember how to use it after Valentine's Day, but gonna git it anyhow!
I ducked and covered, like they taught me back in the cave-school days, but this insidious merchandising poison swept over me like fresh cow plop on a grasshopper, and so stripped away all vestiges of fiscal restraint. I now have the redolence of shopping fever oozing from every pore and orifice and have joined the mindless masses in the local mega mall.
We all look like a casting call for 'Night Of The Living Dead, Part 6, The Revenge Of The Mistletoe Victims' and probably smell the part too. I have had my credit card(s)-"sorry we don't take Discover, just Mastercharge and Visa"-on a leather shoelace, threaded through my nose for convenience.
I will admit there is a bit of that catharsis stuff floating around in the discomfort of this arrangement.... no, not the stuff that naturally is discharged from the nose, but self-deserved retribution. Or something like that.
Time to go to my Birthday Party. Don't have any idea of what I am getting, but odds are that I won't know how to use it or am too dumb to learn how to turn it on, off, but for damned sure I will find the mute....
Can't turn around without seeing something enticing, glitzy, high-tech, action-filled, gotta-have, new wave, old rip-off, ronco-esque, surefire, and prohibitively expensive. Don't anyone need it, can't anyone afford it, ain't anyone gonna remember how to use it after Valentine's Day, but gonna git it anyhow!
I ducked and covered, like they taught me back in the cave-school days, but this insidious merchandising poison swept over me like fresh cow plop on a grasshopper, and so stripped away all vestiges of fiscal restraint. I now have the redolence of shopping fever oozing from every pore and orifice and have joined the mindless masses in the local mega mall.
We all look like a casting call for 'Night Of The Living Dead, Part 6, The Revenge Of The Mistletoe Victims' and probably smell the part too. I have had my credit card(s)-"sorry we don't take Discover, just Mastercharge and Visa"-on a leather shoelace, threaded through my nose for convenience.
I will admit there is a bit of that catharsis stuff floating around in the discomfort of this arrangement.... no, not the stuff that naturally is discharged from the nose, but self-deserved retribution. Or something like that.
Time to go to my Birthday Party. Don't have any idea of what I am getting, but odds are that I won't know how to use it or am too dumb to learn how to turn it on, off, but for damned sure I will find the mute....