Tuesday, January 28, 2003

As I logged onto Blogger just seconds ago there was, in the welcoming window, a link to a discussion board regarding, for god's sake, The Shroud of Turin - hoax or ferreal. Immediately my thoughts shrank backwards to the horrors of Prometheus Books where I slaved as jacket copy girl/assistant to director of p.r./assistant to director of advertising among the mushrooms growing in the corners of the orange shag carpeting in the basement office (this sounds like a bad dream but, believe you me, this fucking happened and is how I bonded with my pal Jamie Johnson, who also miseried there) and ducking the blue clouds of cigarette smoke streaming from several offices. And so much more.
Anyhow, the place is owned by Mr. Killjoy/professor Paul Sharits who believes in nothing. So that meant a constant stream of tomes debunking everything. Tooth Fairy Mystery: SOLVED. Shroud of Turin Mystery: Solved. And on.
The best book I ever came across there were the memoirs of a porn star (Jerry Butler) who was married to Wednesday of The Adams Family at one time before their coked-up minds derailed and forced their marriage onto the rocks.
George W. Bush Presidential Mystery... why doesn't Mr. Sharits solve that one?
Could not bring myself to watch his state of the union address.
I would, however, like to read a transcript and after the tidal wave of deadlines I'll look for one online.
Oban Addiction Mystery: Solved. No, don't solve that Sharits.
And, for the record do not solve the following -
Shoe Assembly Mystery.
ps: nearly forgot the real reason I was blogging which was that today, as I drove down the DMZ that is Middling City's Main Street I was behind a car with clever vanity plates with a religious theme: UR4GVN. I was regarding these nincompoops thinking how best to yell at them from a car length away, smirking madly, when I looked over and there, mere feet away, was a man looking at me, smiling and pointing to the heavens. I smiled back and thought Thanks be to the gods of serendipity I don't have an impressionable mind and believe this is some sort of sign.
Sign (and rock) on.

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