Tuesday, June 22, 2004

Some Gifts for Me

So my cool-as-shit boss, or now my cool-as-shit ex-boss (that's a whole other story that you'll eventually read on her soon-to-debut blog I'm sure), bought me some great gifts for the big two-five. One of which is the Miles Davis/Gil Evans Complete Columbia Studio Recordings box set. Simply put in the style of Richie Valens, this gift is the bees knees, a real gas, kitten. I cannot wait to get home and throw this puppy in the fire. Actually, now that I re-read that sentence, I'm kind of in the mood to throw a real puppy into a real fire. But that'll have to wait until after I listen to those discs. But then, then it's curtains for some poor puppy.

The other gift was President Clinton's new autobiography, My Life. It's officially 957 pages, including the much-needed epilogue. How does one even go about writing a book that long, especially one that's non-fiction? Does that not seem self-indulgent to anyone else? Couldn't he have cut to the chase a little faster? Am I supposed to read the whole thing, or can I skip around using the index? And what's the deal with Big Gulps? I mean, can anyone possibly drink this much Mountain Dew?

While I'm sure it's an inspirational story and all, a po' boy from Arkansas working his way up to prominence, I'm more sure that people are buying this book for other reasons. If I were Willie Jeff's ghost writer, this is the exact book you'd have in stores:

"This Jew girl came in the other day, and she volunteered to tongue-massage Little Slick Willie. I gave her my patented thumbs up into my Clinton face, encored with a drop trou, and the next thing we knew, that blue dress was ruined -- Goddamn, I've still never met a Jew that swallows. Then that fat bitch Tripp messed shit up for us, so that skinny bitch Hilary got super-pissed and made me tell Chelsea. But when I looked her in the eyes I nearly vomited from the sight of her. Finally, Ken Starr and I wrestled naked Greco-Roman style in a tub of chocolate pudding, and then that putz got elected President. Epilogue: I'm rich, beeyotch."

Less than half a page, and I'm sure it tells the exact same story most people are buying the book to read. Well, except for the part about Ken Starr...maybe it was tapioca.

4 Comments:

At 11:38 AM, Blogger Sox1918 said...

love the chocalate pudding. just came upon a phenomenal quote...

"Bachelors should be taxed heavily. It's not fair for some men to be
happier than others." --Oscar Wilde

 
At 2:49 PM, Blogger Don Fiedler said...

Just came upon another quote:

"Stop making it seem as if you are well-read when it's obvious you just read that bachelor quote on the elevator in your office"

 
At 3:11 PM, Blogger Ace Cowboy said...

Way to go, Donnie, way to alienate our readership. Guy's a first-time poster and you're trying to embarass him? Boo, Donnie, boo. Kid's handle is Sox1918 for chrissakes, we can't alienate these people.

 
At 10:49 AM, Blogger Gypsy Rose said...

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