Pages of Euphoria
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
  At Odds (reprint)
The whrrr of the drying machine takes my brain on a sleepy course. Reading my book is becoming futile as I try to pass the time between loads of clothing being washed or dried. Its my quiet time. Where conversations are avoided; internet, tv and the beckon of my thigh master are out of mind. However, the joy I WAS taking in my gluttonous lethargy is starting to dwindle. I feel myself attenuating to something. What is it? It sounds like a woman having a conversation with her dog. Shitballs.

"Do you want to go wait in the car?!?!?" she inquires with a stern voice, believing that the animal understands the ultimatum.
"Yip Rowrk!" the dog answers breaking his silence rule.
"Now that's enough!"

Clearly it wasn't enough, as the tiny phallic shaped dog gets into another yipping match with the resident rat dog, a 4 lb poodle named Charlie.

Now this middle aged woman is walking around with her dog perched on her shoulder, the dog looking more like some insecure piss ant parrot who wouldn't eat a cracker drenched in cheese. The weak parrot impersonator is not the issue, its the fact that this woman, Deb we'll call her, is carrying around this animal on her shoulder and having a conversation with it. Why do people do this? How is this behavior acceptable in our society? Where would Charles Darwin put this dog breed named wiener (being toted by the homunculus Deb) in his theory of survival of the fittest?

Some people find this babying and cooing behavior cute, I find it not only unnatural, but downright inflammatory. I mean, I understand companionship, and how important it is to have it. But Deb, do you have to carry the wiener K9 on your shoulder everywhere with you like its some kind of mini deity? Deb? Simply At Odds.

Staying with this fun theme of things being at odds, I would like to reiterate that this rant of mine was realized and inspired in a downtown Edmonds luandromat, where $1.50 washes you half a hamper. I am fortunate enough and cool enough to be living in my parents house which was recently appraised at around $3 million*****. That dollar amount is slightly misleading, or completely at odds with both the Greenberg frugality complex (or GFC) and general Greenberg ethics. For example, father Charles would sooner hop in a vat of molten lava than pass up a penny or nickel left on the side walk. Zach Greenberg as recently as 6 months ago, asked a waitress if the refills on his diet coke were free (this is actually completely condonable behavior, yet still humorous to think about). I am living in a fairly expensive house which throw around descriptive attributes like pond, and pool, and spiral stair case(s) I and am washing my black work socks at a laundromat. At Odds, and I could not be more in love with it.

*****First and foremost, allow me to apologize for sounding like the biggest schmuck ever to grace the blogosphere. I put that dollar amount out there to mock the fact that I was washing my dope threads at a laundromat for $1.50 a load, and in fact our clothes washer had decided to overdose and die on my dads BVDs.
Nice edits. Nice use of the Yid, too ;)
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Location: Los Angeles, California, United States

I come from a small town north of Seattle, WA, where I learned that rain is a magical thing because it turns things green. I have had the chance to go a few places and see a few things of which all I have are pictures, memories and stories. I am currently living and learning about Los Angeles, California, and what it means to be an Angelino.

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