Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks
Tuesday, July 23, 2002 Nothing good happened to me today while I was spending my lunch break running some errands. Except maybe in my head. Wanna come along?
At the ATM:
Someone left a card here. It’s the size of a business card, but it says:
A Love Song to God
It goes on to say:
“Singing HU can:
Expand your awareness
Help you experience divine love
Heal a broken heart
Offer solace during times of grief
Bring peace and calm"
There are more detailed instructions on the back. They basically consist of: “Sing HU. Sing HU again. Continue for up to twenty minutes.”
This is a new one on me. Is it a form of transcendental meditation with the text changed to avoid copyright infringement? Are they hoping that if enough people will try it they’ll be able to simulate an air raid siren? Is it a deceptively simple incantation designed to summon Scorpion King star Kelly Hu?
I kid, of course. I think I’m going to try this when I get home, but instead of singing HU myself I’ll just drop “Who Are You” into the CD player and put it on repeat. Same effect.
On the road
There’s a store called “Al’s Vacuum.” How does a business like that make any money at all? How did he get financing?
“Hi, my name’s Al and I need a business loan for my new store.”
“And what will you sell, Al?”
“Nothing. It’ll be called ‘Al’s Vacuum.’ It will contain absolutely nothing, not even air.”
“How do you expect to make money selling nothing?”
“It’s an entirely new paradigm.”
“Then why do you need financing?”
“Because airlocks are expensive.”
“Okay, sign here.”
At the Post Office
I can tell it hasn’t been long enough since the last postage rate increase, because I still have a bunch of one-cent stamps left over from back then. It would be fine if I had exactly three times as many leftover one-cent stamps as I do leftover thirty-four cent stamps. Then I could just keep sticking four stamps on everything until they both run out. But no, I’m going to have to buy a whole roll of three-cent stamps that I’m going to have to hang on to until the next three-cent rate hike, which, given the likelihood that the next hike will be one or two cents, probably won’t happen until 2168.
It would be even better if I had thirty-seven one-cent stamps left over. Then I’d cover the whole envelope with them, leaving just enough space for the address to show through. That’ll learn ‘em to hike the rates on me.
Oh, I can just buy six three-cent stamps and it’ll even out. That’s okay, then. What a relief that I’m not going to have to bust out the “going postal” joke, because I hate scraping off mold.
In the parking lot at work
Why are my coworkers staring at my car like that? Haven’t they ever seen a station wagon before? Oops, I guess this Bob Seeger song on my radio is a little loud. That’s kind of embarrassing. I didn’t mean to leave it there. Now they’re going to think I’m one of those guys who blasts classic rock out of my open car windows in the parking lot to show everyone what a “rebel” I am. Maybe if I switch back to the alternative station right now they’ll realize I really am a rebel. There, see? Dashboard Confessional. Quit looking at me, coworkers.
At my desk
Back in my chair, and back to work. I think I need a break first.
posted by M. Giant 3:15 PM 0 comments