Bad Hair Day

I have a cowlick. A cowlick, right there, in the center of my hair, right in front of everything. A cowlick. What did I do to deserve this? What does anybody do to deserve a cowlick? I don't know. I certainly know that I don't deserve a cowlick. I do not deserve to have a single piece of my hair stick straight up.

Do you know what it looks like, to have a single piece of my hair stick straight up right in the center of my forehead? It looks like my hair is giving people the finger, that's what. I've got a rude gesture on my head. Nobody deserves that. Not even mass murderers. Did Hitler have a cowlick? No, but that's probably because he had three tons of industrial oil on his head. I can't put that much stuff on my hair. The rest of my hair didn't do anything--it's just this one piece, this one little section, that's screwing it up for everybody else. I think hair is a metaphor for life. There are the people who truly care about their hair, they spend hours in the bathroom or in the salon, making sure that everything is perfect. Then there are the people who would like to care about their hair, but there's just too much of other damn stuff in the way, and so they leave it until the last minute and then go nuts. Then there's the people who don't give a damn, and believe me, it shows. And then there's me. And my cowlick. I think it's an omen of some kind. What kind of an omen is a cowlick? It can't be a good omen, that's for sure. Maybe it's all a figment of my imagination, maybe nobody but me can see it, and maybe while we're dreaming I can be Queen of the World. With my own hairdresser.

A cowlick is a cowlick is a cowlick, and no amount of dreaming will make it go away. No amount of fuss will make it go away. It's the hair equivelent of a cockroach. A vulgar cockroach. I think it's something I have to learn to live with. Either that, or I can get my head shaved. Depends, I guess, on the amount of fuss I'm willing to show a little cowlick.

What Not To Do

Hi. I just wanted to let you know--I'm so happy to be here. Getting this interview. I'm so happy--I love working with people. People just naturally like me, y'know? Maybe it's because I talk so much. I know that sounds weird, but people don't like long silences. I sure don't have that problem! Nope, I love to talk. Sometimes when I'm nervous, I might talk a bit too much, but then, I don't think it's that bad. Anyway, that's why I want to be a saleswoman again. I love talking to customers! I haven't had a job in a while, not since my last one where I got fired because I insulted the boss. I mean, she deserved it, right? But anyway, I got fired, and it was a real shame, too, because my brother Joe was in charge of personnel, and it was him that got me the job.

Well, not got me the job, it wasn't like that or anything, he told me about it and I applied. Of course, he gave me the interview too, but he assured me that just because I was his sister didn't influence his decision in the slightest. My brother wouldn't lie to me. I know I haven't got the best family, I mean, they're kinda weird, but still. Anyway, I just wanted to say that I got the job as the head saleswoman because I'm such a great talker. I was headsales woman, too, which, I know, is kinda like getting a demotion now with the job I'm applying for, but that's okay. I mean, being out of work for the past two years has put it in perspective, you know? It was fun, at first, having all the spare time, but I got pretty bored. That's when I decided to look for more work, but I haven't gotten hired since, even though I have all that great experience as a saleswoman. Well, I mean, sure it was only the one job, but I was headsaleswoman, that's gotta count for something. If it didn't, I'd be in trouble! But anyway, I'm sure I would be great for the job. Sure, it's beneath my level and everything, but beggars can't be choosers, like they say.

By the way, did you know that the coffee machine outside is broken? I would have that fixed, if were you. It doesn't look to good to people coming in if the vending machine is broken! You're lucky I'm not so picky, otherwise I would have walked out right then, and then where would you be? Out one great saleswoman, that's for sure! Just be lucky I'm so desperate. Anyway, I've got to be wrapping this interview up, so thanks for letting me fill out the application, I guess I'll be seeing you in a few weeks!

That Damn Dog

That damn dog is barking again. Every night, bark bark bark bark bark. I can never get any sleep--you can hear that damn dog all over the apartment. I tried sleeping in the back room, it's the farthest from the party wall, but you can still hear it like it's right beside you! I haven't had a decent nights sleep in months! I complained to the super about it, and he talked to the idiots next door. They promised to get rid of the dog, only they didn't and they hide it whenever he goes to see them. Nobody else can hear that stupid dog except for me, so it's my word against theirs.

My wife says I get too emotional about the whole thing, but you would too, if you had to listen to that damn dog. Sometimes, you hear about those nutcases that go around neighbourhoods, poisoning pets, and sometimes I think: "Gee, maybe we could track this guy down and hire him."

Nobody understands what I'm going through. My wife, and the kid, they sleep like corpses. A nuke going off in their bed wouldn't wake them up. Me, I wake up at the slightest noise. And calling that dog "slight" would be the biggest understatement in the history of the english language. I swear--I'm just so fed up. If it wasn't bad enough with that damn dog, new neighbours have moved in upstairs, and they must practise clog dancing or something, the noise is incredible! Again, only I'm up at four--the damn dog, naturally--so I'm the only one here lucky enough to get treated to upstairs' impromto recitals. The only explanation besides the clog dancing is that they're moving furniture while wearing army boots. They keep me up until around five thirty every morning. I finally get to sleep then, when I'm woken up at six thirty by my alarm clock, cause I've got to go to work. So I get roughly an hour or two of sleep each night, between the damn dog and the Morris' upstairs. Naturally, because I'm not getting any sleep, I'm a bit cranky, and my wife has been complaining. What has she got to complain about? I'm the one that has to go to work for nine hours on one hour of sleep! I'm the one who has to sit through at least three hours of meetings per day--do you know how hard it is to stay awake? It's difficult in normal situations, and I'd hardly call this normal. Today--today was the biggest kicker--the lowest point. My wife and I had a huge argument this morning because I suggested moving. She didn't take me seriously, and it wound up becoming a huge fight, and she ended up taking the kid to stay at her mom's until I can "get my act together." So there, my wife had just left me, and why? Because of that damn dog.

I'm Not Paranoid, It's Just That Everybody Is Out To Get Me

They're everywhere, you know. I know. I know what's going on today. They think that we don't know--but we do. We're not as dumb as They think we are. They expect us to swallow everything like--like a glass of milk. The Dairy Board is part of a giant conspiracy, you know. One of the biggest. Along with the government, They are trying to kill us all to make more profit. It's true.

Think about it--the Dairy Board says milk prevents osteoporosis, right? Only, get this: scientists have proved that people can't digest milk after they're weaned from it. So all that calcium that is *supposed* to help our bones actually goes straight through us. What does that mean? Well, say a young woman drinks all the milk the Dairy Board tells her to drink. Two things: one: They make money. The driving force of society, right? and two: the woman thinks that she's got the right amount of calcium in her system, so she doesn't bother making up for it. Then what happens? She's not getting enough calcium, and she gets osteoporosis anyway. So then she falls, and boom! Before you know it, the government has got one less person to put on a pension. That's why They're targeting women, too. Women live longer. So They've got to knock them off sooner, before the women make too much money off of the Them. Protecting their assets, that's what the government is doing. And stepping on you and me in the process. It's a dangerous world out there. You have to be careful.