Wednesday, February 28, 2007

12 oz.

There’s a bald man sitting in front of me on the train right now.

It’s taking every ounce of self-restraint (which isn’t saying much – on any given day I’ve got 12 oz. tops) to keep from reaching out and giving his fuzzy little melon a fast and furious rub for good luck.
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Imagine a world sans self-control.

Chubby, excitable chicks grabbing bald guys on mass transit.

Whew.
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Are we that far away from it?

Obesity. Alcohol and drug addiction. Caffeine. Cigarettes. Credit card debt.

We’re accustomed to getting what we want when we want it. We’re accustomed to self-medicating with whatever convenient legal or illegal substances are available.

Do you know one person who doesn’t rely on something to keep it together?
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Tip: The new Sharpie retractable markers ROCK. I don’t know why I had to say that.

Lack of self-control I guess.
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“Hedy, for the rest of your life you cannot drink alcohol.”

“Okay. Cool. I’m good with that.”

“Also, you can’t have Crunchy Cheetos, dark chocolate, or Skippy peanut butter from a big round spoon.”

“Fuck YOU and your stupid rules.”
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I am listening to: Feel Better Songs for Scott II
I am reading: Crain's Chicago Bidness
And I am: Keeping it together

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

if you had any b*lls, you'd go rub his head....ya sissy!

Hedy said...

Sooooo...you're a bald dude and you're minding your own business on the train and some crazy broad starts rubbing your melon. What do you do?

Anonymous said...

He turns around and says, "Hey, baby. How YOU doin'?" Que the bad 70's porn music (the bald guy has that little mustache, right?), and it's off.

Good idea showing restraint.

-Mr. Uk