05/11/99
Soulless

At work today we received an invoice from an artist who had worked on a cartoon character named Shorty.

"Who's Shorty?" I asked one of the coworkers.

"You know," she explained, "Shorty the Electrical Outlet."

"Shorty the Electrical Outlet?" I said, puzzled, "that doesn't inspire confidence at all. That's like Leaky the Condom or something."

This amused the coworkers mightily. I was so pleased with this snappy witticism that I drew a picture. Hope you like it!




Sonya's day was not without humor, either. On her way back to work after lunch she saw two pigeons doing the deed.

"It was awful," she told me, wide-eyed with terror, "the one on top was just flappin' like crazy. If I'd seen that when I was a little kid I would have never been right afterward."

For my part, I didn't even know pigeons knew how to screw. You learn something every day. Whether you want to or not.




After work today Sonya and I ran to Midtown Video to try and grab a copy of Velvet Goldmine (they were all out, but we've got one reserved for tomorrow. See this movie, people. See it see it see it. You'll be thoroughly entertained).

Anyway, we were roughhousing around on the way back and Sonya popped me a smart one on the cheek. Later, I smacked her in the mouth. My wedding ring dinged her in the teeth a good one.

"You'd feel really guilty if you'd chipped one of my teeth, wouldn't you?" she sneered.

I shrugged. "If I felt guilt at all, yeah, I'd probably feel guilty. Sure."

"You have no soul," Sonya declared. So the rest of the ride home was one long "Harold Has No Soul" joke-fest. Sonya did try to backpedal out of it, though.

"When you say I have no soul," I asked, "are you talking about the Stax Records kind of soul?"

"That's right," she said patronizingly, pinching my cheeks, "I just meant you'll never work in Motown."

It stretched on into the evening, too. When we were playing Yahtzee a while ago Sonya was having an especially good run of dice-rolls.

"The Lord must love you," I observed.

"That's because I have a soul," Sonya observed primly.

First my coworkers, now my wife thinks I'm the antichrist. Me and Marilyn Manson; we catch all kind of shit.




Are you excited about Star Wars: The Phantom Menace yet? I am. I am wallowing in the hype. This is a goddamned honest-to-god cultural event, y'all. I can't wait to stake out my little piece of history.





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