Tax Day

I was sitting at the post office today. Tax Day apparently. When I pulled my little number out of the red-round-justice-and-order-number-dispensing-thinger it said, 26. The wall said – now serving 80.

Well crap, its not my fault I had to go buy 1200 stamps for work on the second busiest postal day of the year. So I walk to the coffee shop, grab some caffeine, a copy of the onion and settle in (by the time i get back we’ve progressed to 87).

So there’s bajillion people jammed in to this sorry excuse for a strip-mall post office – two clerks working the counter, several screaming children and a general air of financial anxiety as all these Westlake residents collectively stew in fear for their SUV’s, 15-car garages, and the future of little Johnie Jr’s trust-fund (Westlake is where Austin’s hippy-shtick slams into a brick wall off modern yuppieism). Amidst all this I hit upon my horoscope:

Thank you, onion staff for putting my post office experience into perspective, and indeed, summing up the last few weeks so succinctly. You are the Shakespears of our time.

The (only functional) Box With Pretty Pictures

So, for reasons detailed below and others (specifically ones that will cause a sharp increase in our car insurance rates) yesterday kind of sucked. If we were being very web 2.0 about it, I would tag November 20, 2006 as craptacular, craptastic and piss-poor.

The events of the day behind me, I opted for the intelligent mature option when I finally got home: drink a large bottle of wine and watch television (there were some extended conversations with the dog about various, ill-advised traffic flow decisions made by the city, but she was kind of mum on the subject so I won’t go into it here).

TV is not generally my thing as we only get four channels. But as I was surfing (and drinking), I ended up splitting my time between Antiques Roadshow: South Dakota and Deal or no Deal. They’re really the same show: cross section of America contestant picks an item, hoping its worth a lot of dollars, with no real idea of how said dollar will come to them, or how many of its dollar bill buddies it’ll bring along (ok the timeline is a little different, but work with me here). One show has class and rich cultural history, the other has an attention deficit afflicted host and aspiring models but the essential principals are pretty close.

They should really ponder a crossover. Stick antiques in the cases on the game show- congratulations you picked the Navajo Blanket, the banker would like to offer you a nice armoire to walk away now.

I’d watch that.

I have got to get that computer fixed soon…

“Thoughts ?”

It blows my mind that professionals with college degrees, in the year 2006, will still end an email like this. Adding insult to injury, this came to me from a PR firm, who’s only function as far as i can tell is to have lunch meetings and except absurdly large checks.
It’s not good, cute, correct or witty. Nor does it inspire me to ruminate over your poorly composed communiqué. People who do this should be made to go live in Dallas or something equally horrific.