Hi,
If you’re anything like me, you still haven’t eaten breakfast on account of all the interesting coverage of the “flogging” going on down at a place called “Capitol Hill.” One can only assume that big changes are afoot in the world of people who still drive cars. What’s that? Yeah, I know, I too think it’s pretty weird that people still drive cars that run on gas. It’s like, wow man! Uncool!!! Right?!?!? I mean, pretty much everyone except my friend R___rt has quit smoking since it went out of fashion. But then again I guess things come in and out of fashion. Like fashion. I mean, ladies, come on. My mom called and she wants her pleated dungarees back. You really shouldn’t be wearing them. Unless they’re really high waisted. But that’s another conversation.
Anyway, in case you didn’t get the memo, it’s now officially uncool to have a gas using car. Unless of course you are a taxi cab driver or your name is Casey Shea and you need to give me a ride home from band practice. In that case your car is pretty cool and proves once again that I am the exception to pretty much any rule you can think of.
But luckily for people like Rex Tillerson, today congress is gonna be really ineffective and by the time these totally worthwhile hearings on why the oil industry is making so much money and, eh hum, folks on Main St. US of A are suffering so much you’re still going to have to take your sad little excuse for an income and enjoy it. Just like pretty much everyone else you know. Unless you’re a millionaire. In which case pretty much everyone else you know is probably also a millionaire. Unless you know your landlord really well. In that case he might be a billionaire and you might treat him better than you treat your wife. If you know what I mean. But maybe not. To both.
And now, since you asked, for today’s installment of ‘The Thing I Made For Breakfast That Is Better Than “Whatever It Is You Call That!”’ I present to you a piece entitled, “He’s Entered His Baked Eggs With Pyrex(c) Phase…”
In related news, this really hot chick who took me to a really funny movie about the Rolling Stones last night forwarded me an article from a magazine called Vanity Fair. It’s all about this really boring subject matter. It’s so boring I’m not even gonna bother you with it. What’s that? No, I mean, you don’t wanna know. It’s too boring. You’ll just fall asleep again. And then you’ll be asleep at work and then you’ll get fired for being unproductive. And then you’ll never have a chance to become one of the top 1% of earners in these here United States. Not that you had much of a chance anyway. Unless of course you’re really good looking and I just haven’t noticed. And by really good looking, I mean really good looking. Not the kind of good looking that will get you into the top 10% of earners. I’m talking at once untouchable and disarmingly good looking. That is, assuming you have no untouchable talent. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I too don’t having a clue as to what it’s like to be the heir to the Johnson and Johnson fortune … but after a little bit of something called “googling” it has come to my attention that I do know a thing or two about what it’s like to live as one of the top 10% of earners. And since my income as the proud holder of a High School diploma should actually be some 12% lower than it would be if we were living in 1980 instead of 2011, I couldn’t help but wonder why I should find myself amongst the same elite company as “a lot of other good looking people I know.” What that? Oh, you wanna know if I think most people who have achieved what might be described as “an above average lifestyle as it relates to income related opportunities” are more likely to be “above average as it relates to being genetically gifted?” Well, yes. For the most part I guess I do. Unless you’re ugly but were born rich. Then you’re probably just an ugly rich person who probably wears really expensive clothes that are probably equally unflattering. But not me. I can’t afford to not look good. It took me 28 years to figure that Levi’s 514 jeans fit me in a way that is at once flattering and comfortable. Let alone clocking in at under $60. Not a bad deal. And then there’s H and M. Thank god for H and M. “Making the faux-rich look socially acceptable to the actually-rich since 1947.” That’s actually their new slogan. And I’m the model. Look it up. Anyway, all I’m saying is that apparently all those hours I spent when I was seven years old in front of the bathroom mirror wondering why I was adopted have really paid off in my ability to look sincerely interested in a bunch of things I actually think are total bulls#!t as an adult, thus translating into my knack for garnering gainful employment. And yes, to answer your question, I am also saying is that if you happened to have just now realized that your male spouse you were planning on having children with is actually not that good looking … you should totally have an affair.
Mwah!
M
P.S. Speaking of me, pretty soon you’ll get to hear the first ever recording of me playing the upright bass.
P.P.S. It happens on a song by someone named Andy Fitzpatrick and another someone named William Merriman.
P.P.P.S. And, don’t forget … next week we got a big show with The Casey Shea Band!!!!!
