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Archives: Nov 2007

It’s not December yet, you son of a bitch

Note: I’m a columnist for the Reader Weekly, an alt-weekly newspaper in Duluth, MN. Every Tuesday I post a new column.

 
Hey jerks, guess what today is?* It’s November! Not December. Not “The holiday season”. Today is just plain old November, so put your Christmas tree back in the garage, take down your lights, remove your candy cane tie, and stop being merry. I forbid you to smile, laugh, or be full of cheer until December 1.

I don’t care if Thanksgiving is over. The Christmas season doesn’t begin until December. Have some self-control, you filthy animals! Stop trying to force it upon the rest of us a week early. It is November, and you will act accordingly, or I will take off my shoe and throw it at your face.

What happened to self-restraint? I know everybody wants everything right now, but “right now” gets earlier and earlier every year. Patience is a virtue, you twats! Can’t you monkeys keep out of the banana factory for one lousy week? Have some willpower and discipline. Pretend you have a personality inside you instead of just an endless stream of selfishness and indulgence.

If you’re not selfish and you just genuinely like holidays, then why don’t I ever see you trying to celebrate Columbus Day early? Why don’t I see you a month beforehand listening to Columbus Day music and baking Christopher Columbus shaped cookies? You don’t like celebrating holidays at all, do you? You just like getting presents. You’re a liar and a bastard.

How to impress your friends by pretending to can vegetables

Note: I’m a columnist for the Reader Weekly, an alt-weekly newspaper in Duluth, MN. Every Tuesday I post a new column.

 
When I’m at the supermarket, I shop as if I were living through the Great Depression. Chef Boyardee for 99 cents? Never! The generic brand is 94 cents! Diet Coke? Never! I’ll get Diet RC Cola – which has the slightest taste of dental filling paste – for 30 cents less per case.

I purchase my breakfast cereal in gigantic horsefeeder-sized bags. If there was an illegal immigrant sitting at a card table outside the supermarket, selling even cheaper bags of cereal that were obviously pulled out of a dumpster, I’d probably buy those instead.

I blame my parents for this. From a young age, they planted this idea in my head that buying inferior products is worth the miniscule amount of savings. Didn’t I go to college so I wouldn’t have to eat generic cheese? “It all adds up!” my parents always say. Never mind that it only adds up to 30 cents each shopping trip. Since it all adds up, why don’t I start working nights and weekends in a Chinese sweatshop?

The generic brand of spaghetti sauce I bought the other day was so cheap that the label fell off during the drive home from the supermarket. Now it’s literally as generic as can be: Just a glass jar full of sauce. I actually like it better this way. It looks nicer and also gives the false impression that I made it myself. I’m going to remove the labels from all my food products, so everything in my kitchen will appear to be homemade.

E. coli sounds like an ice cream flavor

Note: I’m a columnist for the Reader Weekly, an alt-weekly newspaper in Duluth, MN. Every Tuesday I post a new column.

 
Is there anything left for me to eat that doesn’t have E. coli in it? Anything at all? Can I eat Werther’s Originals? How about ketchup? Can I use Listerine breath strips, or did somebody dip those in animal poop too? Should I eat Thanksgiving dinner this year, or just enjoy the aroma and then toss it in the garbage?

Every month something different is infected with E. coli: Hamburgers, spinach, apple juice, dead rats, Lucky Charms, condoms. Now five million Totino’s and Jeno’s frozen pizzas are being recalled. I’m pretty sure I ate that many over the course of my childhood. Why does it have to be Totino’s? Isn’t it bad enough that I’m too poor to buy a real frozen pizza, now I have to get sick too?

What kind of a world do we live in where I can’t trust companies to kill things and feed them to me? And Totino’s doesn’t even involve farms or animals. There’s not a natural ingredient in a Totino’s pizza. It’s just cardboard with fake cheese on it. The pepperoni is rubber from discarded shoes. It’s all engineered in a lab, like Viagra and Courtney Love’s face.

An awkward letter to my former lover

Note: I’m a columnist for the Reader Weekly, an alt-weekly newspaper in Duluth, MN. Every Tuesday I post a new column.

 
Dearest AT&T,

I hope this letter finds you well. I’ve been keeping busy, working at an office in the city. I started in September and it’s okay.

I don’t know how to tell you this, but it’s something you need to know. I met this really nice cellphone carrier at the mall a few months ago. They have great phones and treat their customers really well. They make me feel like a gentleman. I’ve fallen madly in love with them, and it’s only fair that I return your cellphone and contract.

Please don’t hate me, Cingy (I know you prefer to be called AT&T now, not Cingular, but I still think of you as my little Cingy). It’s awkward breaking up with you, partly because I paid you to go out with me, and partly because you’re a corporation in lieu of an actual person. Regardless, our relationship is over. I figured you’d get the message when I ported my phone number to my new carrier, but I also sent this letter just in case.

I’ve thought a lot about what I want out of a relationship, and the two of us are just too different in both personality and our desired lifestyles. You love the iPhone, and I don’t. You like the RAZR, and I think you’re a worthless twat. But let’s not get nasty. This is not about either of us “winning or losing”. We’re both winners in this decision. It’s just that I’m a lot more of a winner than you.