Debaser Redux

Got me a movie

I want you to know

Slicing up eyeballs

I want you to know

Charles Michael Kittredge Thompson aka Black Francis

Up at 4:34 this morning, the moaning of the terrier must be answered. No sense sleeping. She’s a lady, and doesn’t want to pee in her diaper. It’s good to know she has standards. Except when she doesn’t. After all, she is just a little 16 year old dog with attitude.

Does Maisy love the Pixies? You know how one thing leads to another? Lump leads to cancer, which leads to radiation and chemo, for giggles we get about three months of treatments and this life saving treatment leads to recovery. I worked all through my treatments from home, then I went back to work in August. The thing about work is that it is exhausting, and insatiable. There is no way to dabble, no way to gently go into the night. It is not the fault of the work. There is too much work, and not enough me to go around.

So I’m on this treadmill again, and lo and behold, some woman who is not paying attention to the script or the road, thinking about God knows what- did I put the cream back in the fridge? Do my children love me? At what point can I simply not afford to live in this city, when BAM!!! She rear ends me, pushing my aging Honda into the brand new car in front of me, a car driven by her coworker, effectively ruining everyone’s day, week, month. Life goes on.

But today, at 5:31, as an hour has passed, and I finished my breakfast, and drink my decaf coffee. “There was this guy, An underwater guy who controlled the sea, Got killed by ten million pounds of sludge…..This monkey’s gone to heaven. The creature in the sky, Got sucked in a hole, now, there’s a hole in the sky and the ground’s not cold, everything is gonna burn, we’ll all take turns.”

I guess it was her turn to burn that morning. I work with organic food, which is a good thing I tell myself. Organic is certified, which means paperwork, documents up the Ying Yang.. Yesterday was our annual inspection. Part of the inspection involves sending random samples of ingredients to a third party lab to test for pesticides. Also another sample has to be sent to the US to test for gluten. Because we are certified gluten free as well. That should not be too hard, but it is the US. And everything about the US is complicated. I spent about 6 hours yesterday trying to arrange for this sample to go to the USA, on the phone with FedEx and the US FDA. I was trying to follow through this simple task, by interfacing with their various websites, because everything has to be done with websites now. The password in the computer for both websites does not work, apply to Forgot Password, get temporary password, make up new password, sorry, not long enough, need to add three more characters.

Waiting on hold to speak to a human.

Hi! I can help you with that. What is it you want to do?

SPEAK TO A HUMAN.

OK. I can help you with that. Then goes through a list of options that the robot voice can help me with. What is it you want to do?

SPEAK TO A HUMAN BEING!!!

Minutes of my life drip away, never to be found again.

SPEAK TO A FUCKING HUMAN BEING!!!

I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. What can I help you with? I can help you with that. Would you be willing to take a short survey?

Is it any surprise that I wake up thinking of cashing out? Buying a trailer, setting it up on some friends land, and leaving all this fuckery behind. Get behind me Satan! I want to forget all the temporary passwords. Can I just drop off the grid? Can I have my Freedom 85, without enduring this nonsense for another twenty years?

“ Gouge away. You can gouge away. Stay all date if you want to. Chained to the pillars, a three day party, I break the walls, and kill us all with holy fingers.”

Old man mumbling in the corner of the punk rock nursing home.

“He liked the Pixies.”

Channeling his inner Black Francis. Debaser. Redux.

He’s a lady, and doesn’t want to pee in his diaper. It’s good to know he has standards. Except when he doesn’t. After all, he is just a little 65 year old punk with attitude.