Wednesday, May 11, 2011

OK 2DAY IT’S A RANT…

Brace yourself -- serious sniveling dead ahead…names change to protect the guilty...enhanced for effect...no guarantee any of this is even remotely the truth.

Like pets? My ideal pet is a 22 year old penthouse centerfold. And a youtube video of tropical fish. Being chased and devoured by Piranhas.

Dig dogs? Let me mind meld over to you the manifold times I been bitten, threatened, and harrassed by a supposedy family friend fido while merely waking on a public road minding my own business. Or had my only pair of pants sullied by dirty paws, slobbery mouths, a drippy wet nose that’s been places that would make a maggot gag and a mouth that fully smells like to five week old rotting chipmunk road kill it just ate. I now carry a yacht horn, a squeeze bottle of 50/50 ammonia mace mix, a laser taser and a portable nuclear device.

Love Nantucket? The real Nantucket vaporized around 1958 . (It had been a rundown has-been trawler port that stunk of fish scraps, coal dust, red tide, rancid sperm whale oil and rotting seaweed.) That’s when Green Stamp king Walter Beinecke decided to trash the place with a fancy marina and fake fisherman shacks turned into art gallery boutiques. In its place is a phony honky tonk theme park for super rich, ostentatious and obnoxious lawyers, chief execs and members of the New York Yacht Club-- who amuse themselves by suing each other over NIMBY, wrecking original colonial interiors, and thumbing their nose at the Historical Commission to put in hackneyed excessive self-indulgent “modern” kitchens.

Want a white knight – have I got a tour of the midnight sun you can go on.

Is traveling to exotic far-off romantic getaways your bent? Oh, then you must adore security pat downs, overflowing toilets, nine-hour waits, virus-laden cabin air and drunken pilots with I-Pod ADHD that over shoot airports and can’t actually fly with glass cockpit computers.

Do you want someone who is totally honest and open and sincere and truthful. Please get real. Life is a soap opera. Nobody’s perfect. Hypocrisy and self delusion are endemic and rampant in modern society.

Dislike cold? Then I guess you also anathematize the fall foliage, the spring orchids and White Christmasses that go along with New England weather. If so let me introduce you to my friend Mephistopheles who commutes regularly between the surface of Venus and El Azizia, Libya.

Longing for a long term relationship?. Okay, line forms to the right. And you can get inducted into the Hall of Infame of my previous significant others: washed-up exhibitionist pole dancer, desperate tachcardying housewife, serial adulteress and fellatrix, psychotic school teacher, biker chick…do you think this is the long tale of the bell curve of normality??!!

Oh, so you deem this unritualistic regurgitation as the much-vaunted over-heralded, “ inappropriate behavior”? Okay, then there is a button right next to that I want you to push. Its labeled “ Thermonuclear Armageddon – because our mutual self-destruction is assured. “ Inappropriate behavior” is just the kind of mealy mouthed, says-nothing, self-righteous, condescending, psycho-babble jibber-jabber that is dumbing down and screwing up our reality beyond all repair. It is the abject quackery practiced by Dr. Phil, the ludicrous pop justice dispensed by Judge Judy and the impeccable moral standards adhered to by Raj Rajratnam.

Think I am bitter? Suspect I am sarcastic? Do I sound a teeny tiny tad ticked off? Guilty as charged, right on the money, you hit the bullseye.

I’ve undergone two IRS audits, a contentious divorce with legal bills more than half way to seven figures, a mini-computer industry downsize reduction in workforce, and a badly bungled inheritance. I have been afflicted with lyme disease, male pattern baldness, tinnitus, tennis elbow, fallen arches, low-T and enamel erosion. Not enough? Add a subluxated sacroiliac, bilateral blepharitis and NordicTrack-induced metatarsalgia. My car’s been towed, truck wrecked, basement flooded and apartment cleaned out by thieves. I've been cuckolded, abandoned, extorted from and involuntarily drugged. I’ve had a 40B condo built in my back yard, a quarter acres of trees cut down and stolen, an ice storm that canceled modern civilization for two weeks, a hurricane that turned tall oaks horizontal and a colony of deer-mice that transmogrified a functioning automobile into a rodent amusement park and bathroom.

Somehow I am still standing, sensate and solvent. I think.

Okay I am done here. Rant ovah!

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