n o w p l a y i n g - s c r i p t b i n - f a n c l u b - s t u d i o

make love to the camera



April 09, 2002 - 7:51 am

No More French Kissing

Good lord. I just saw a commercial for a 'Friends' rerun where they go to a Hootie and the Blowfish concert. Was that show ever cool? Ever?

And yet, I watch. And I sometimes even like it. And I know it well enough to have once written an episode for a class.

Take away all my "cred points." Go ahead. I didn't have very many anyway. But, while you're at it, take away Christina Ricci's for joining 'Ally McBeal' and The Donnas for doing a Target commercial and changing their lyrics.

Apparently, those gals no longer want to "french kiss you," and are now just satisfied to "be with you."

Where's the love, baby?

Anyway. Good morning.

You know, sometimes I think that the earlier I wake up, the later I am to work. Today I woke up around 7am, and I know that I'm going to spend a good amount of time writing this, then I'll lounge around for a bit before I eventually jump in the shower and split and then maybe get to work at 10:15am, about 45 minutes late. By contrast, yesterday I woke up at 9:30am, realized that I was supposed to be at work right now, threw on some clothes and got over there by 9:55am.

The reason that happened was coffee. If I had stayed home and made a pot, I would have got to work around noon. Since I left right away, I was able to get to work and commandeer their coffee pot, set up a defense perimeter, and violently fight off the 60 year old ladies who work in the attendance office.

Speaking of being late: It's nice to work in the high school where your mother controls the payroll. It pretty much ensures that no one fucks with you.

So. Everyone apparently feels the need to whine about Daylight Savings Time. I think I've heard thirty different explanations and histories for DST, from railroad complexities to benefitting farmers to evilly mustachioed madmen who would sadistically, mentally torture us.

Even if there were no good scientific or logical reason to set the clocks ahead in the spring, I think it's just about one of the best ideas ever. The reasoning behind this is simple: That extra hour in the fall.

I mean, think about it. We lose an hour now, but who doesn't love getting that extra hour of sleep that first night we set the clocks back? It's like everyone suddenly decides to magically change the rules and we all get this nice little gift. That hour is a national treasure, people. An hour long holiday. It's like finding a twenty dollar bill. Sure, it's the same twenty that you lost before, but you've got it back, and goddamn if that isn't a good feeling.

If you're the type of person who would compain about finding a twenty that they lost, I just can't help you. You probably also cry about changing into warm dry socks on a rainy day or eating when hungry. What more do you want from your life?

Bastards.

So, speaking of the Grand Mysteries of the Universe, one of them was solved for me this morning.

There's this car in my neighborhood. It is not notable except for one thing: Occasionally, it's trunk is open. This has always perplexed me, as the default condition for most trunks I know is that they are closed. I have happened upon this car twice, and both times the trunk was open, and there was no one in sight.

There is nothing of note in the trunk, by the way.

So I go out this morning to get the newspaper, and as I'm approaching the street to cross, I hear a 'tchick' (yes, 'tchick') and up pops the trunk of this car. "Ah," thought I. "The trunk just sometimes pops open on this car." Mystery solved. All is right in the world. I closed the car trunk. Good deed for the day: Done.

It was like a movie in which everything is revealed in the third act, except, you know, not cinematic.

Unless it were a movie about a mysterious car trunk.

Which would suck.

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