The Horror, The Horror
It’s after 8. What am I still doing at work? I’ve forgotten, you tell me. Oh yeah, earning money or something. Well, I’m about done with that shit. Just waiting for the print job to end and I can get out of here for tonight. I’ll probably be back for at least some of the weekend, though.
I almost forgot that it was Hallowe’en. I had this great idea to dress Baby Dog up as Marlon Brando as Colonel Kurtz in Apocalypse Now. All she’d need is an olive drab t-shirt, some khaki pants, and a set of Doggy Dog’s old tags around her neck, and she’d be a dead ringer – she has the cheeks and the bald head and the chubby limbs already. Mama Dog did a desultory bit of fieldwork on the project the other day. She was at a hippydippy baby clothes store in North Berkeley, and asked the proprietor about baby-sized camo clothes. The lady was horrified. “We don’t encourage that sort of thing here. Try Target. “No,” (I wish I had been there to say) “we don’t want it in an earnest trailer trash way, we want it in an ironic postmodern way!” Ah well. Mama Dog has decided that Baby Dog’s not really ready for trousers anyway, what with the very bulky diaperage she wears, and also that the dog tags would be a choking hazard. Also, being actual dog tags, they’re probably in dire need of sterilisation, but the point is moo. (As some comedian or other said in a bit about cows not having points. I can’t remember what that was in. Anybody out there know? It’s not a Kelly Bundyism, is it?)
Tonight, when I told Dan the Chemist that we’d had plans to dress Baby Dog up as Colonel Kurtz, he said “Aw, her first Hallowe’en? That’s not fair, she should have a choice.” Well, that cuts to the moral heart of the issue, I guess. But it would’ve been damn cute.
Which reminds me – new parents out there, have you decided where you stand on the issue of The Big Christmas Lie? I haven’t really celebrated Christmas since 1986 or so, and now I’ve got to tell my child that some fat man with a herd of exotic livestock delivers presents all around the world in a night? Why do so many customs in our culture revolve around telling our children absolute bullshit?
I almost forgot that it was Hallowe’en. I had this great idea to dress Baby Dog up as Marlon Brando as Colonel Kurtz in Apocalypse Now. All she’d need is an olive drab t-shirt, some khaki pants, and a set of Doggy Dog’s old tags around her neck, and she’d be a dead ringer – she has the cheeks and the bald head and the chubby limbs already. Mama Dog did a desultory bit of fieldwork on the project the other day. She was at a hippydippy baby clothes store in North Berkeley, and asked the proprietor about baby-sized camo clothes. The lady was horrified. “We don’t encourage that sort of thing here. Try Target. “No,” (I wish I had been there to say) “we don’t want it in an earnest trailer trash way, we want it in an ironic postmodern way!” Ah well. Mama Dog has decided that Baby Dog’s not really ready for trousers anyway, what with the very bulky diaperage she wears, and also that the dog tags would be a choking hazard. Also, being actual dog tags, they’re probably in dire need of sterilisation, but the point is moo. (As some comedian or other said in a bit about cows not having points. I can’t remember what that was in. Anybody out there know? It’s not a Kelly Bundyism, is it?)
Tonight, when I told Dan the Chemist that we’d had plans to dress Baby Dog up as Colonel Kurtz, he said “Aw, her first Hallowe’en? That’s not fair, she should have a choice.” Well, that cuts to the moral heart of the issue, I guess. But it would’ve been damn cute.
Which reminds me – new parents out there, have you decided where you stand on the issue of The Big Christmas Lie? I haven’t really celebrated Christmas since 1986 or so, and now I’ve got to tell my child that some fat man with a herd of exotic livestock delivers presents all around the world in a night? Why do so many customs in our culture revolve around telling our children absolute bullshit?
posted by PapaDogDuvalier | 8:54 PM
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