At least, not at the moment. I hear Great White Sharks have a special liking for kittens, because it's so rare to have them floating around somewhere and fishermen (understandably) don't like using them for chum.
But what I was going to blather on about is actually directed to women of the female persuasion. Yeah, youse. Youse knows who youse is.
Do you not hate it, and be honest, when your husband/boyfriend/seatmate/occasional dickwad but usually serviceable dickwad has . . . uh . . . some HOBBY that you don't have a clue about but that you are resigned to be resigned to?
God. I could come up with a list, but it just would make your eyelids droop -- there is simply not enough time in the universe to list the things that Boys With Toys will get up to.
Not just GET UP TO . . . will devote entire lifetimes, years, months, minutes, hours . . . doing these seemingly useless things that will get them nowhere. And they know while they're doing them that it will get them nowhere. No more money, no more jobs, no more security. AND THEY STILL DO THEM.
I know, I know, female human beings are far from immune to these behaviours. But males . . . they take it ALL THE WAY.
Think Dungeons and Dragons. Think World of Warcraft. I, of course, know nothing of these distractions, but apparently, 168 million people would beg to differ with me.
The distinction among these widow-making interests, is, at least to me, the payoff. What do you GET after wasting 1,765 hours on some hobby or interest? Something you can hold? Something you can look at, and treasure, 50 years down the line? Or just a poker game that is destined to float in memory, remembered only by you (and by Vito. Never forget about Vito).
So what is the point of this large-scale rant? Fine scale. I know you have absolutely no interest in people who make small plastic models for a living, but you can take it from me: if there is something on Earth that humans can do, there is something that humans will take to the Nth degree to be better than other humans.
The people at Fine Scale Modeling bring this to mind. It reminds me, regretfully, that anything you do, someone else can do better. That, Flock, is my watchword of the day. Write it down and occasionally pull it out of your wallet when the chips are down.
And notice that nowhere in this post did I include the word "fuck."
Who are YOU and what have you done with the Nick that we have come to know, love and cringe at?
ReplyDeleteI got rid of that son-of-a-bitch. I checked the front door and that bastard had somehow jimmied the latch, sneaked in and gotten on my computer. And where did he go? Straight to my blog. Posting whatever he felt like.
ReplyDeleteAnd then he sneaked back out, probably right under my nose (I got up to get a glass of milk and I thought I heard the door close) and somehow managed to lock the chain behind him.
It'll never happen again. I bought another Nazi GI Joe and he'll take over my security detail.
From the dark side: It happened again ballerina barbie looks like an plasticine angel, but she's been working out and she's Jewish. Kicked Joe's ass to the curb. Those are his little broken fists you hear beating, well, tapping really but fiercely on your door now. . Shes also put a little something in your milk. The angel thing isn't all looks. Now, I think the behavior to which you refer is not divided by the sex chromosome so much as the right series of defects along some string of DNA. And then there is the genetic imperative to work with the hands. Like other useless defects, we can thank modern science and pesticides for keeping us from being combed from the flock - as I am about to from yours. Compulsive/obsessive women tuck up their Freudian slips and dodge scrutiny because they usually must hide their fixations behind shopping and children, and tragically in this day and age, general domestcity- out of necessity - because the men can't be pulled from their models, miniatures, and DND. A spoiled bride in possession of all the defects compulsive-impulsive-obsessive etc etc (this is me of course) pushes the marriage contract to the limit each day with time mostly wasted on useless bullshit. This reversed stereo-type perpetuated in part by self-employment, a touch of ADD and adolescent-like selfishness. There's only one shot as far as we know it, so what the hell. Speaking of which, did you see the story on Vivian Maier (sp). Go to Wimp.com Not old, not German, she spent a lifetime hiding an obsession with street photography. 100,000+'images were found in boxes in an abandoned locker. Should made us both feel even more like an ass. When you've thrown the model against the wall due to extreme irritation, get some exercise and go back to your writing. Write something long and funny and amazing. You're fucking brilliant Nick - there you see, I didn't forget. Just because we have no ambition doesn't mean we can't do something of relative value. Yes, somebody will always be better at it. Do it anyway.
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