While I Was Busy

After lifting my head up after ten weeks of a kitchen remodel, I see that the war is still on?

When are they going to stop this war? At this point, it’s like some crazy person you know who insists on continuing their pursuit of the perfectly tasty and digestible wool meatball.
At some point, it becomes all about stubborn pride, no?

After ten weeks of scraping and painting, I see that this country still hates the homos.

Coulter, that self-loathing drag queen with her fag remark, and that wretched Peter Pace, with his fear and ignorance, calling gay men immoral? I put down my paint brush for this?

After seventy-four days of sweeping, vacuuming and hauling off waste, I finally get my nails clean and take a movie break, and I have to sit through a militaristic propaganda film?

300 was so stupid and so obviously a “stay the course” war propaganda film. It sports a gayish villain and the hero dies at the end in a martyred crucifixion pose. How obvious is this crap? I don’t care how naked these guys are, running around protecting Sparta, the whole thing wreaks of simplistic, moronic thinking—playing to the blood thirsty single- neuroned heads of, well, children, I guess. Children and their trog parents!—because the movie is rated R.

All finished, I look at my kitchen and I can’t believe that we get to live in it.
But sadly, I can’t believe the world the kitchen is in.