The Bitter Parade

The Bitter Parade has once again rolled into Cyberville. Rejoice!

Free Balloons for the Kids and free Kids for the Baboons!

Surgeon General Warning:

Reading this blog may cause constipation, severe migraines, reduce the motor skills of pregnant women and cause cancer in perfectly healthy laboratory animals who had "initially hoped that they'd be adopted by a loving family but were saddened to discover that they had been purchased in bulk by a conglomorate (that manufactures goo and has convinced millions of people through the power of advertising that nobody would like them if they didn't put this goo product in their hair) and the defenseless critters would live out their short lives under sterile conditions undergoing a series of potentially, spine-stingingly, painful experiments from which theere is almost no chance of escape, unless ironically, one of the scientist's offspring were to come to the lab, see the animal, fall in love with it/them and brow beat their parent into letting them take the adorable animal(s) home to "love." This love would come in the form of squeezing, prodding, tossing, and abstract tortures which are too numerous to mention, but certainly lacking any scientific merit whatsoever. Thus totally pissing off the hapless creature(s) and only serving to amuse the child captor and Mrs. Fluffernutter, the fat spoiled family cat-- who gets her own birthday party every year and fancy gourmet kitty-cat snacks on Christmas. Treats that are manufactured by the same conglomorate that makes the goo that nobody could possibly live without.

Yes, sweet Christmas. Gather round children and you'll learn how Jesus was crucified on the cross so that Mrs. Fluffernutter could enjoy expensive halibut-flavored Pounce Treats which make her coat all shiny 'cause the main ingredient is goo. Now available in new Sea Bass flavor. Ting! Some assembly required.


SWEET TEMP OBLIVION

Greetings from the Tax Department at Huge Gigantic Company, Inc.

So, my dear readers, after day two here at Huge Gigantic Company I must say, "I don't like the office world. It's awful." Every little worker ant/cog/sheep/administrative assistant etc... jammed into their identical beige (the color of purgatory) cubicle and the head worker ants in their slightly larger pods allowing them to decorate thm with "art". (a framed poster exclaiming things, like, "Batman Forever 0VER 100 Million Dollars Domestic Gross!") on the wall. It's truly depressing.

This particular building is a maze. Yesterday I couldn't even find my way back to the office for twenty minutes. "Yes, I've done recreational drugs, why do you ask?" Even the bathrooms are identical in every way. It's like something out of the movie "Brazil." The same exact layout everywhere you go.
Corporate America rides a big black horse and you can bet he's gonna find every last one of us happy little Hobbits and trample us into pixie paste. So I've decided to take up arms and start a Jihad against George W. Vader Bush. Oh, don't worry mine is a kinder gentler Jihad. One that provides women with equal rights and yummy fudge pops for all.

But really, it's dull here in cubeville. I just finished labeling sub folders of folders of boxes of files, then marking them with ID numbers and then stamping them so they can quickly be whisked off to... Storage. Where they will be packed away, never looked at, and then destroyed. I'm a pre-storage preparation technician.

And the florescent lights they have here. These are very bad things, made by very bad people.

I'm not depressed by this environment exactly. I'm more amazed that I've never REALLY noticed it all before. I'm just looking around thinking "wow." It's like a Disneyland of misery. Each little cube-dweller "spruces up" their cubicle with delightful (stupid) little colored frames and cute (mass produced) knick-knacks in an effort to express their individuality. But most of them have nearly identical decoration, complete with American flags. But what really smothers my toddler are these little inspirational messages that are pinned up everywhere.

For example: This one.

"Dear God,

on those days

when hope escapes me,

whe all I am is weary,

when darkness is all I see,

let Your strength be my beacon

like a lighthouse

on a rock

shining bright enough

to dispel the clouds

of despair

and bring me new vision."

Well, I like it. It's vague yet generic too... badly written, and yet also terribly depressing. It's saying "God, things suck and I certainly can't do anything about it. Help!" And believe me there is no need for a "beacon of light" in this office. The mega wattage of the florescent bulbs are more than enough for me.

It makes one yearn to go to the forest, eat like twenty pot cookies and find a real new vision. (Kids stay in school, and don't do drugs and definately don't do drugs in school. Lotta bad vibes there.)

Join the Revolution (sorry there's no pay and no dental plan)

The Bitter Parade will be in town through this Friday.

Remember the first 100 negative, jaded and cynical folks get in FREE! And get to meet the Care Bears. In a steel cage grudge match for the ages.


All my love,

The Florescent Light of Your Life

Krankiboy