Friday, December 17, 2004

Example

This is a kid with a cool racecar bed.

Example
This is a kid whose parents misunderstood "cool racecar bed"

on their son's Christmas list
I just got back from work. Did you know I'm working? I'm working. I log footage for a reality series entitled Brat Camp. And sadly, no, it is not a television version of Up the Academy - as much as I've prayed for one.

I work from 7pm-5am, so it's around... 6am. The only other person awake right now is that hooded-sweatshirt guy who stands on the corner of Bellevue and Silver Lake every morning as I drive home from work. I think he's waiting for someone to pick him up. That or he's shadowing me. Yes. Hooded-Sweatshirt, P.I.

Hm. I want to go to sleep. I'm very tired. I've been up for 37 hours. Does that deserve an explanation? Maybe later. I'm tired. Although, honestly, I could have explained why I've been up for 37 hours in the time it took me to write: "Does that deserve an explanation? Maybe later. I'm tired."

And that.

And this.

And I'll have you know I re-wrote that whole "Does that deserve an explanation? Maybe later. I'm tired" line. Twice. I didn't just copy-and-paste. I work hard for my money.***

So this begs the question: If you're so tired, Pauly Dangerfield, why don't you go to sleep?

My response (in TWO parts):

A) As tired as I am, I always need to relax before sleep-time. I can't just walk straight from my car and into bed. Unless , of course, I had one of those racecar beds (like I wanted when I was a youngster****) If I had a racecar bed, I could both sleep and drive to work in it. Although I'm sure the sheets would get oil all over them. And bird-shit.

B) Why don't more people call me Pauly Dangerfield? Only a couple of people in my whole, entire life call me that and I like it. CHRISTMAS GIFT FOR ME: Start calling me "Pauly Dangerfield." CHRISTMAS GIFT FOR YOU: My eternal adoration.

So, I'm writing this blog to relax. So I can fall asleep. Even though I'm very, very tired.

FOOTNOTES:
*** Is the song "She Works Hard for Her Money" about being a waitress or a prostitute? I've heard both arguments. Where do you fall on this issue?

**** Dammit, I'm an adult now. I'm working. I'm making money. Why haven't I bought myself a racecar bed yet? *****

***** Oh yeah... because I'm 23 and even as a kid, if I saw an adult man with a racecar bed, I would feel sad for him.

1 comment:

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