11 September 2005

Sargasso Spleen

I am overcome with a curious malaise, leaving me unable to vent my spleen of its usual caustic venom. I even briefly toyed with a fantasy involving the non-voluntary spleen ventilation of others; but this is generally a messy process with which both the spleentilated and judiciary seem to disapprove.

I can not even take pleasure in washing down a handful of peyote buttons with absinthe and shooting at the hallucinations; as this would leave me nothing to do at work.

Instead, I am forced to sit in the sunshine with a beer in hand and enjoy the late summer afternoon.

Perhaps someone could send me some hate mail. A death threat? Arrest warrant? Some Jehovah’s witnesses? (Scratch that last bit; I’m in the Jehovah’s Witness Protection Program). Some relatives? Hell, I’d even take Fran Dresher right now.

God, is this what it’s like to be a normal, decent human being? This is really boring. Luckily, I have to spend the week in New York. Nothing recharges my reservoirs of rage as well as being surrounded by a huge number of people that are almost as obnoxious as I.


And that's the way I likes it.