Friday, June 3, 2005

so fascinated by the balloons

This is another image, recently arrived from the Ether, from the Muttonham fest.

Some of you may have noticed that I got a new camera that has eight little spidery lenses. If you want to see more pictures from it, just click on the above image and surf through my "photostream" (as far as I can tell, you don't need to register). The oktomat (as it is called) has the ability to take a 2.5 second movie via the eight little lenses that fire in sequence. That is right, it can capture time. I haven't quite figured out how to make a good movie (it involves being at my home computer). This is my first roll of film, so I am learning a lot about what makes good pictures on it. Not so impressed with the driving scenes. So the next time you come over, I will force you to watch my "movies" muagh, ha ha HA HA!

tales of an American Consumer
Needed that quintessential of american goods yesterday, toilet paper. The M*ster and I put our heads together and decided that a certain consumer club that everyone knows would be our best bet (more wipes for the penny, as it were). I pride myself on what a bad consumer I can be. Especially with the housewares, clothes and crass materials (not so commendable when it comes to gas, sadly, but I try to bike as much as I can). It was with a lot of pride-swallowing that I took the Silver Bullet to this club-thing.

I knew the drill, presented the membership card, and then I fell into their rabbit-hole grip. Assaulted on every side by deals, mass quantities, I wandered like a little lost puritan through the massive aisles. I was seduced and yanked and it was with the most self-control I could muster that I forwent the phone cards, the massive wheels of cheese, the steaks, the canoes, the bras (they didn't have my size, but I checked, dagnabbit!). Finally at the far end, I found my prize, the huge bales of TP. I slung one over my shoulder (I really detest pushing a cart around, not having one limits your purchases to what you can hold) and made my way through the throngs to the checkout line, where I got to contemplate the people.

observations sans judgement (sorta)

in front of me. a skinny white woman with 2 grossly obese sons. her cart was piled high with frozen burritoes, pizza, large bags of cheese, flats of mayo, and a gigantic Darth Vader head.

behind me. a hispanic woman, whose active progeny were climbing everything that was climbable. she had a pile of watermelons, a bunch of bananas, and bottled water. the rest of her cart was empty.

when I got to the checkout, the cashier surveyed my purchase with a sneer, "is that all you're getting?" he asked me.

damn fucking right.

and getting out is as much as an ordeal as leaving the proverbial casino, with the receipt check line and dodging all the flying carts.

I felt exhausted, violated. I needed to cleanse my poor, battered inner-consumer, so I hauled over to the Bargain Barn for their last 5 minutes of commerce. It was nearly empty. I found a hard bound copy of Tom Robbins' Half asleep in frog pajamas, and it was mine for one nickel alloy quarter. The parking lot was littered with trash, derelicts and old cars. The beefy black bouncer gave me a wide smile when I left.

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I blog about life and soup, but mostly soup.