Jul 11, 2012

My Pants Fell Down (and other laments)

1. A vast lethargy has overcome Camp J and all who inhabit it. As Commandant, I can take comfort only in the fact that I seem to recline, motionless, a little less than New Dog Libby. And it isn't even hot.

2. Today's duty Wranglers were well-fitted when new, and my mirror image (full-frontal disgust) reveals no substantial chassis changes. Further, the belt fastens in the same hole as it has for a very long time. Further further, the jeans were barely burdened. A thin sheaf of small bills, the Buck Squire 501,  and one pair of 14-inch Diamond channel-locking pliers. Yet my pants fell on the short walk from the shop bench to the hose bib. Only reliable elastic on my shorts prevented revelation of gross cleavage to revolted passers-by. (Boxers or briefs? None of your damned business.) I conclude that my butt is shrinking. I am unable to assign meaning to the fact.

3.  The wardrobe malfunction occurred as I was fixing a hose connection. The outrage leading to the entire incident was almost  -- but, alas, not quite -- enough to get my heart started. Upon investigation I discovered the washer inside the plastic 37-function nozzle from WalMart (I suppose) was likewise plastic. Meaning that after one months use it would seal fluids only at and above the viscosity level of hot asphalt. Replacing it with a Luddite's rubber, I tried to work up enough ill-will to avenge myself by finding the guy who decided that melted Sprite bottles could be turned into sealing washers and shoot him. Couldn't.

4. And that made me feel guilty about something else. This is but the second post of July, A.D. 2012.  Meaning I have gone days and days without trying to ridicule  the Court of His Ineptness, without sprinkling even a little scorn on the 535 congresssslugs and zoning administrators and  like vermin. What a sad dereliction of muh sworn duty.

To bring this all together, I must note that meaningful social comment here in the Age of AmSoc requires deep feelings of hatred and bile combined with a willingness to engage in what, in other circumstances, would be unforgivable lapses into vulgar, thoughtless, and cruel means of expression.

Guys, I just can't do it lately, so I'm all like WTF!? Is my reservoir of  noble muckraking venom in my ass which, as I mentioned above, seems to be shrinking?

(If so, does Obamacare cover it?)

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