Summary: September is upon us, and yet...you know, I don't feel cooler. I talk about Alabama insects, current feelings, and dump this or that in your lap to enjoy.
Big Bugs, Bigger APRs, and other things... aka, Ah, September!
BLOT: (01 Sep 2011 - 01:04:33 PM)
Big Bugs, Bigger APRs, and other things... aka, Ah, September!
First off, this is a big bug:
Second, this is an EVEN bigger APR [aka Annual Percentage Rate]:
Ready for a bit of Kafka-esque? The agency (a) that sent me that "You are pre-approved for this loan!" statement has a name that seems to be riffing off another well known semi-local bank (b). "A", however, actually seems to be some subsidiary of another corporation (c). And, that check/loan debits from whole other bank (d). What's more, the check number taken off of "A"/"C"'s account with "D" claims to be in the six-millions, despite "A"'s use of the word "Alabama" in the title, implying that everyone in Alabama and then some has a loan through them. Maybe that's what wrong with the state?
Third, if those things disturbed you I promise there will be something better later on. A certain picture. Very cute. Just wait. DON'T SCROLL DOWN! Just wait. All good things. In time.
First day of September, huh? Summer only has a trio of weeks remaining. Does this mean it is cool yet? Seriously, does it? I've not been outside today, because it has been F—KING HOT. It hates me. The whole thing. Summer, I mean. We get more sun, which kills me. I am murdered and forced, like Phoenix Christ, to rise from my own ashes and put my sweath, frothing, melting self back together. We get more heat, which kills my corpse. And we get insects (see above) which don't necessarily kill me, but make my wife twitch like a crazy person.
You know how you can't see a bug, a ickle bug, from a distance, but you can see a person swatting at it? And it looks like they are having some horrid panic attack and flailing at the air, as though they have decided the Universe is a carnivorous engine and they must slap and dodge and kick and flee it? And if the wind is just right, you can hear a noise somewhere between a grunt and a moan and a tea-kettle hitting a boil? Well, now you know what I see and hear everytime Sarah goes to leave the apartment and one of the billion wasps found in any square inch of Alabama Summer air gets close.
Speaking of bugs, and I'm sure this will be funny ha-ha one day as opposed to "Ah, FUUUUUUUUUUUUUU", Sarah and have these little critters that, I suppose, are coming through our bedroom window and getting in our carpet. What are they? I don't know, the exterminator is supposed to come out tomorrow and take a guess. They are not bedbugs. Not ticks. Do not look like any sort of lice/flee/roach. Have no wings. Aren't ants. The closest we have found are carpet beetles but they don't look precisely like that, either. I don't know. They don't seem to be doing much besides increasing in number and slowly spreading. So I am rapidly vacuuming them up. Seems kind of cruel, and I grew up in an area/house where the average bedroom had more insects than the state of New York, but I'd like to think I've moved on from that now. My childhood and teenager years were spent, as it were, camping. That's what I'm going to keep telling myself.
Speaking of moving on, it has been less than one month (month=1; time.lt.month=true;) since I have graduated and I'm starting to get...jittery. We cannot move on, right now. Not really. Sarah has at least several months to go. Next Spring is a different matter. I'm just...jittery, is all.
How about happier things? Songs? Songs! If you are looking for a little hard rocking paranoia mixed with drug joy lyrics to start, end, or whatever you do at 6pm your day, may I recommend Clutch's "Willie Nelson"? Sample lyrics: "Boss demon tells me, oh how he would like to kill me. Save your bullets tough guy, my disease does that for free. Well I don't know if I'm coming or going, if it's them or me. Oh, but one things for certain: Willie Nelson only smokes killer weed."
And if you think, maybe, just maybe, you need something a little bittersweet, a bit more...maudlin...lilting, well then how about some of Wye Oak's "Civilian"?* Sample lyrics: "I am nothing without pretend. I know my faults, can't live with them... I still keep my baby teeth in the bedside table with my jewelry... I don't need another friend when most of them I can barely keep up with. I'm perfectly able to hold my own hand..."
And if, just if, music videos aren't your thing (though neither of those are videos in any real sense), then how about this bit from McSweeney's Internet Tendency: "YOU DON'T HAVE THE MENTAL STAMINA TO OUTLAST ME IN THIS DRY SAUNA". I laughed and I laughed and I laughed. Your mileage, of course, may vary.
And with that we come to the promise of better things. The "third", above. The promise of cute. Is it, I don't know, a cute little rat hunting, and failing, a butterly?** Or is it Sarah and myself being a cute little couple?
God I am a goofy looking bastard. Hey, at least my wife is cute, so suck it!
* I have been haunted by that song for a bit, I think because of the baby teeth line which is both touching and horrific. Today it gets brought up because I found out it is in the
** One day that page will no longer exist on the Internet, the one with the rat and the butterfly. On that day, the whole world will be diminished.
OTHER BLOTS THIS MONTH: September 2011
dickens of a blog
Written by Doug Bolden
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