... And they're farming babies / While the slaves are working ....

11:05 pm, February 1, 2005

I just saw my brother shell out over seven hundred bucks on a car stereo system. Once I saw the debit transaction completed, all my skin melted away and I spontaneously combusted. Seriously, it was like staring into the Lost Ark in that Indiana Jones movie. Only, you know, with better special effects.

So, in the spirit of the evening, I decided to empty my checking account of all nine hundred plus dollars, including the $675 I owe for this month's rent, and shove each single dollar bill up into my ass. You know, for kicks.

Let me get this straight, for more than the price of living at my apartment in even a Non-February month, I can get a 200 dollar cd-player, an 80 dollar amp, a 200 dollar box and woofer, two 100 dollar speakers for the doors, and upwards of 80 dollars for installation of all that crap just so my new techno cds I just blew 200 more dollars on will sound extra bumping in my 1990 Geo Storm? Hey, forget a month of rent, all that shit is now worth more than the fucking car itself.

I don't know if I'm really one to talk about impulse purchases, but then again I do get pretty good milage out of the needless luxuries I procure. Yes, there are starving children in China; yes, there are drowning children in Indonesia; yes, there are sex-slave children in Vietnam; but you know what! I won't rest until I own every single Weird Al Yankovic album on compact disc!

Hey, I appease in other ways. Dig on this, I haven't cooked one meal since I've moved here (frozen pizza, PB&J, noodle soup don't count). OK, that's a bad example. Well, that week where we only had three plates to go with our three forks was pretty ornery (incidently, we're up to six plates and a whopping four forks now).

All right, so I'm at a loss, but you know what? I'm a spoiled assface from privilege. Well, as much privilege as a 23 year old from Tacoma with a superior ego-capacity and a mommy who pays for his cell phone and car insurance bills but isn't waiting in the wings of a throne ascension can possibly derive. Rockefeller I ain't, but then again I CAN pull out the dated reference as well as the next Dennis Miller-in-his-heyday Wannabe.

Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a fat man upstairs shaking more ground than an Indian Ocean earthquake. Yes Peyton Manning, Cast of the O.C., Bastard Sellout Living Members of Alice In Chains [[[I'd like to give a hearty "fuck you" to 96.5 K-Rock {{K-Rock my ass, that's a fucking station in New York City, stop trying to capitalize on a hipness you'll never achieve with your shitty 80's college music playing round the clock with some watered down turn-of-the-century Chili Peppers and, of course, Audioslave thrown in to show you're "current" and play a variety of music when you're just looking for an excuse to push Duran Duran, The Clash and Elvis fucking Costello 40 minutes an hour making me want to shove a rusty spork in the asshole of your pisspoor excuse of a programming director}} for this disgusting display they're putting together as a part of this ongoing Tsunami Relief we all won't give a shit about in another two weeks {{oh wait, that's right it's already old news, or have we forgotten what REALLY happened to the money going to the 9-11 fund?}}. Getting three members of Alice In Chains together in some bastard reunion is sickening beyond anything I can possibly imagine. Jerry Cantrell sung MAYBE three songs in the Alice In Chains catalogue before going solo and making it big in the Kid Rock Coattails movement of the late 90s. That means they'll most likely be getting a substitute singer and I swear to God if they bring in that singer from Godsmack, the people from 96.5 K-Rock better be on the lookout for a lone assassin with a very sane agenda. Oh, and to round out the bill, we get Krist "I'm a bass player for a band that was huge over ten years ago and now I just make back-alley deals with Courtney Love while simultaneously selling out all that I once stood for and worshiping the jock of a dead rock god I'm not fit to be carrying" Novoselic, hopefully delighting the crowd with another boring sermon rather than attempting to sing anything or give us a 20-minute version of "Drain You" done solo with the bass guitar. Don't forget Ann Wilson of Heart (her sister Nancy, incidentally, has been eaten and presumed digested by her considerably chunkier sister who will grace the stage, I'm assuming, in one of those whale hammocks) and Chris DeGarmo of Queensryche. Talk about your fucking unnecessary, old-hat, loser douches with no relevance in today's society whatsoever. Oh, and there's Sir Mix-A-Lot rounding out the bill. It's fitting that the Bumpassaurus would give back to the community in such a generous way. Forshame, K-Rock. This Union of the Damned is completely unnecessary. I'd like a 96.5 K-Rock Hearing Relief Concert where we aren't subjected to any auditory abominations. And, while you're at it, if you're gonna try to copy The End, why don't you do a better job and try playing something BESIDES Morrissey, The Police, The Pretenders, or New Order for a change]]] I will surely give five dollars of my hard earned money (that's 30 minutes of processing checks / making-it-look-like-I'm-working-when-I'm-really-just-sitting-around-on-my-ass) because you told me it's a good idea.

Here's a thought. A cow doesn't know why it's a cow. It just lives, gives milk, and gets turned into food. Is it fair? No, but it doesn't know any different way of being. People of the South Pacific may live in such destitution by our Lives-of-Excess standards that it brings pangs of guilt to our hearts every so often when those damned Christian Relief commercials come on, but if you come down off your high fucking horse and put yourselves in their shoes (or hideously disfigured, gangrene-riddled bare feet), you'll realize that our definition of "poor" is all they really know.

So, really, a tsunami is a nice change of pace for them. Get's the ol' heart pumping. A little distraction from the flies-buzzing-on-my-eyeball, contracting-diphtheria-and-other-Oregon-Trail-type-preventable-diseases-with-only-75-cents-a-day-from-your-donation-in-return-for-which-you'll-receive-a-letter-every-month-noting-the-progress-of-the-little-boy-or-girl-you-choose-to-adopt-today, Sally-Struthers-eating-all-my-food norm they've grown so accustomed to.

Callous? You betcha. But, I bet you dollars to donuts that no one in Indonesia has to get up in 5 and a half hours to run in the freezing streets of Renton and then go to work for 8 hours at a job slowly but surely sucking the last bits of life from my ever-hyphen-overusing self. Lucky bastards

Current Mood: Uh, OK
Current Music: Temple of the Dog - Hunger Strike

2005-02-02 09:13 pm UTC
Was that like a meltdown right there? Seriously I think there are much better things to get angry about. P.S. what are you doing for the Superbowl?
-Sarah (without the Big)