Tuesday, August 19, 2008
HEY, HEY DUMMIES!
I want to marry you!
It's been too long, my loves. I have no excuses, beyond being a self-involved, lazy honky with a house that's filled with ants and dog hair. Summertime drifts in, sweet and lovely, then crushes the spirit with its heat, its thirsty ants, and its drifting dog-hair tumbleweeds.
Should I pay people to clean my house? That's what my friends say. They have handservants who come once a week to clean their floors 'til they shine LIKE THE TOP OF THE CHRYSLER BUILDING! But can I stomach such a thing? Do I want my daughter to know that white people need not get on their hands and knees and clean, when illegal brown people can do it for them for one low, low price?
Also, can I afford it? No, I cannot. But should I hire people to do it anyway? Because it's out of control? Because I don't write my own frivolous, self-involved shit anymore, because every free second must be spent busily sweeping or vacuuming or setting that Roomba (the lazy maggot!) to work somewhere? And do you know how long Roombas can survive in a truly hairy environment? About three months. Then their cleaning modules must be replaced. But the parts are always on backorder for three months! That's three months without a robot slave to help you tackle your fucking hairy floors, honkies. UNACCEPTABLE!
I need a robot ant assassin. A little guy who buzzes around, electrocuting ants, and then sucking them into his ant incinerator.
You see, we honkies feel more comfortable bossing around robots, even when the brown people need the work. It's just too unfair, making some human being who's already living badly scrub my disgusting toilet. I can't handle it.
Besides, I deserve to do demeaning work! I don't deserve to be free from my daily battles, no matter how much they consume my supposedly-otherwise-worthwhile brain with their tedious trivialities! I am as lowly as my robot maggot! I'm the one who rescued a fluffy dog in the first place! I made my bed of floaty white dog hair, now I'm the one who should have to lie in it!
OK, someone tell me about their real problems before I float away on a sea of soft-pawed, trifling concerns!