This old woman with sand bag titties walked by with a shirt that said “Glacial Greed Pussy.” This is the kind of shit you see from time to time in a country where people put foreign words to print and then spread those words out into the wide world without bothering to check with an English speaker. Or maybe they know exactly what they are doing and they got that old lady good. I’d really like to start manufacturing shirts of my own here. Ones that say things like “I have no idea what my shirt says.” and “I’m wearing this cus Engrish is kitcheny,” or “If you speak English, point to my left tit and laugh wildly until I look at you.” Or maybe make shirts with Korean curse words for myself and then look at people blankly when they get offended and scream Korean at me, pointing to my shirt. Then I can give a look of recognition, flash a smile and say, "Kamsahamnida!" (Thank you).
There is this ad that comes on the subway car TV screens from time to time. An ice cream scoop dives lightly into a bucket of cookies and cream and creates the perfect curl of a wave. Next, a woman’s finger is dipped into the cream and circles round the rim, creating a little mote. Ice cream porn, right before my very eyes. I just saw those Summer's Eve feminine wash commercials that are airing in the states now with the talking hand pretending to be a vagina. Honestly, I’m in the wrong profession. Apparently in marketing you can just do whatever crazy ass thing pops into your head, and show it to the whole world and it’s like, cool ok. That works. Let’s do it! Genius!
I picked a snail up off the sidewalk today to move it to the bushes. I was afraid I was going to rip its shell off the way it suctioned to the ground but eventually the whole thing popped up and I set it gently down in the dirt. I walked away feeling like I’d done a good deed for about half a second until I realized perhaps there was something very important it was trying to get to on the other side and I just set it back in progress a whole hour or two. I don’t know how fast snails move. (One site says about 0.03 mph, good lord, I'm a monster!) There I was trying to save it from getting smashed but really... wow. What an ego the human mind has. I can imagine myself just crawling along and all of a sudden, pop, I’m lifted a million snail heights into the air by an unknown force, and put back right where I started from. Monica Snail writes “FML” in snail goo on her wall over the course of 3 hours and starts off again. Reminds me of how I feel like after every hard break up. What? I gotta start back at the beginning again? Screw this. I’ll just camp out right here a while. Uh uh. No way. You can’t make me move. Oh what's that over there? Shiny...
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