Why is it May now?
I suck for having totally blown off May Day. I totally meant to at least go to the Minnesota capitol for this immigration march, but I had this chemistry test, and the great mouse dilemma, and it was rainy, and St. Paul is so unbearably far away. But still, none of this makes my suckiness suck any less. On the West Coast, they managed to shut down every single port on that side of the country. Every single one! And on the East Coast, they... uh... um, well, presumably got their nails done while listening to reggaeton, maybe muttering some homophobic comments about people they saw walking down the street. I guess I could suck a little bit more.
Today, I got a nice little live release mousetrap, and found myself right next to this Mexican restaurant I'd often been intrigued by, because they have a lunch buffet, and they're called Taco Blass, which is written, for some reason, in Greek font, between pictures of Greek columns. I discovered that actually, this buffet sucks. It's like a small salad bar table, with some lukewarm refried beans and some rice, and some of those hash brown patties you put in the freezer. It was kind of fascinating, though, because it was the fakest restaurant I've ever seen. There were two people hanging around watching T.V. when I came in, we all seemed a little confused, but then I explained I wanted the buffet. They said okay, and then went and hid in another room. When I was done, I went over to the hole in the hiding room, but the lady was busy talking to her friend on the phone, so she just showed me the receipt. The fact that this meal cost $8 felt a little New York-esque, but it was arguably worth it as a once-in-my-lifetime experience. But really only once. And probably no one else ever needs to go there.
I guess, after lots of unconvincing threats to do so, tomorrow might be the day Al Sharpton et al. were last saying that they were going to try to shut down New York, in response to the most recent incident of the NYPD shooting an unarmed black guy 50 times and then getting off without so much as a stern talking-to (they've worked out this awesome system, where they murder somebody in a really exaggerated manner, opt out of a jury trial, and then get acquitted by a judge, who makes a point of expressing sympathy for the fear that groups of police officers often feel when swarming around a black guy with no weapons and shooting him over and over again--sweet!) Anyway, I guess it was apparent that if they interfered at all with the "Capital of the Universe! TM"'s precious economy on a white-collar workday, they would all be bayonetted to death immediately, but still. I'm guessing that there will be about 10 protestors, who won't be able to do anything, and will be bayonetted to death within a few minutes anyway. Okay, that's hyperbole. They'll probably just all get arrested and incarcerated for the next 20 years. And then they'll probably get sodomized with broken broomsticks by the prison guards every other day of their sentences. At any rate, I wish those 10 people luck, and I also wish them a magical bulletproof force field just in case.
Time to sleep! (Awesome electric guitar riff blares as I leap high into the air, do the splits, and then land in bed and fall immediately into a deep, death-like slumber).
P.S. The mouse totally hasn't gone into the trap, despite it being full of delicious, delicious peanut butter (honestly, I don't get this guy at all--it's like he's from Mars, and I'm from Venus. Sure, people often mistake me for a native of Jupiter, but really that's just the planet I go to periodically in order to get more stupider). He has, however, begun to demonstrate more of a fondess for scurrying at godlike speeds through every other inch of the apartment, just not into the delicious peanut buttery trap. Oh well. As I always say, you can't win 'em all, nor can you even win a single one, ever, as long as you live. Amen.
Today, I got a nice little live release mousetrap, and found myself right next to this Mexican restaurant I'd often been intrigued by, because they have a lunch buffet, and they're called Taco Blass, which is written, for some reason, in Greek font, between pictures of Greek columns. I discovered that actually, this buffet sucks. It's like a small salad bar table, with some lukewarm refried beans and some rice, and some of those hash brown patties you put in the freezer. It was kind of fascinating, though, because it was the fakest restaurant I've ever seen. There were two people hanging around watching T.V. when I came in, we all seemed a little confused, but then I explained I wanted the buffet. They said okay, and then went and hid in another room. When I was done, I went over to the hole in the hiding room, but the lady was busy talking to her friend on the phone, so she just showed me the receipt. The fact that this meal cost $8 felt a little New York-esque, but it was arguably worth it as a once-in-my-lifetime experience. But really only once. And probably no one else ever needs to go there.
I guess, after lots of unconvincing threats to do so, tomorrow might be the day Al Sharpton et al. were last saying that they were going to try to shut down New York, in response to the most recent incident of the NYPD shooting an unarmed black guy 50 times and then getting off without so much as a stern talking-to (they've worked out this awesome system, where they murder somebody in a really exaggerated manner, opt out of a jury trial, and then get acquitted by a judge, who makes a point of expressing sympathy for the fear that groups of police officers often feel when swarming around a black guy with no weapons and shooting him over and over again--sweet!) Anyway, I guess it was apparent that if they interfered at all with the "Capital of the Universe! TM"'s precious economy on a white-collar workday, they would all be bayonetted to death immediately, but still. I'm guessing that there will be about 10 protestors, who won't be able to do anything, and will be bayonetted to death within a few minutes anyway. Okay, that's hyperbole. They'll probably just all get arrested and incarcerated for the next 20 years. And then they'll probably get sodomized with broken broomsticks by the prison guards every other day of their sentences. At any rate, I wish those 10 people luck, and I also wish them a magical bulletproof force field just in case.
Time to sleep! (Awesome electric guitar riff blares as I leap high into the air, do the splits, and then land in bed and fall immediately into a deep, death-like slumber).
P.S. The mouse totally hasn't gone into the trap, despite it being full of delicious, delicious peanut butter (honestly, I don't get this guy at all--it's like he's from Mars, and I'm from Venus. Sure, people often mistake me for a native of Jupiter, but really that's just the planet I go to periodically in order to get more stupider). He has, however, begun to demonstrate more of a fondess for scurrying at godlike speeds through every other inch of the apartment, just not into the delicious peanut buttery trap. Oh well. As I always say, you can't win 'em all, nor can you even win a single one, ever, as long as you live. Amen.