Oozy Cooze

I think someone is trying to April Fool me, perhaps in retaliation for 2004's Reclaiming Art prank. It started with something that might have been a death threat, swiftly followed by a barrage of insults, and a declaration of undying friendship. God was mentioned, and atheism pooh-poohed; then, there was something about shooting people. After that, it just got weird.

For my part, I did what I always do in these situations: bugger-all. It's been a few hours, now, since the last missive. Perhaps my prankster is running out of crazy-juice. It can be tiring, sustaining that sort of act. All that bluster and brimstone--phoah! You thought Reclaiming Art was easy?

In other news, Miss White has been screaming a lot, just lately. She gets up early for that express purpose. There's another bird in on it, too, an outside bird. All morning, Miss White squawks, and all morning, that other bird answers her from across the rooftops. Miss White mimics its cry, which is a complicated pattern of high and low notes: "PEEP-pawk-pawk. PEEP-PEEP...pawk. PEEP-PEEP...pawk, pawk, pawk." It's a bit like that Mentos commercial, where the birds sing the jingle. Either that, or packbawky Morse code.

Sometimes, after a particularly satisfying peep-and-pawk session, Miss White carries on the conversation by herself. She carries it on well into the night. She screams and screams for that outside bird. It's a little annoying. I don't mind so much, but her cagemates don't like it. They try to flap her down from her perch, and turn their backs when she sits next to them. I don't think she notices. Miss White is oblivious. She reminds me of someone--or maybe a certain type of person. My mother? Mothers in general? (Ha, ha.)

I have also been making a lot of noise recently, with the intention of drowning out the TV set. Every once in a while, a commercial comes along which makes me want to rip my own ears off, just to get away from the spokesperson. In 2001, it was a public service announcement from MADD, which had a baby crying uninterrupted for twenty or thirty seconds. I once threw a shoe at the television when that PSA came on. It left a big scratch. After that, it was a Kalles Kaviar spot with a kid in a Spiderman mask. Then, there were the Healthy Harvest commercials with the sloppy eaters, and the Subway ones with the same.

At the moment, there are three obnoxious commercials on the go, all running in the same time slots. Once, I kid you not, all three ran in a single commercial break. They are as follows:

1) A child with a serious speech impediment praises...er, applesauce, I think. It's hard to tell, with that skreeky voice going "SHUT YOUR HOLE, YOU LITTLE COOZE!" (Oh, wait. That's me.*)

2) A child with a sinus infection blathers on about Kraft Single Slices. If you want to know what she sounds like, plug your nose and talk about cheese.

3) A crazy lady shrieks about "sensational salads." She is worse than the brain-damage kid and the nasal-drip kid combined. If Applesauce Girl is a cooze, Crazy Lady is an oozy cooze. She sounds like Barbie on methamphetamines. "First, let's kick a normal salad!" (She kicks a salad.) "SENSATIONAL! Now, here is Wendy's ranch border vinegar chicken salad! SENSATIONAL! Woo! LETTUCE! SENSATIONAL!" Shut up!

On the other hand, I must give props to...to Swanson, I think (or maybe Stouffer's), whose frozen dinner spot makes me chuckle. They bleep out the word "frozen" throughout their spiel, so you think they're saying "fucking dinner," and then it goes "'Frozen' doesn't have to be a dirty word." Not bad. Not bad at all. Way to go, Swanson (or Stouffer's).

Finally, a handful of photographs:

Me, looking like the little imp I am.

Me again, with a diamond ring on.

And last, but not least, the giant mess in my kitchen. WHAT A PIG!

* Ordinarily, I wouldn't speak in such a vulgar manner. I can't stand the word "cooze." It's revolting. But it's also the only word that adequately expresses the way that voice makes me feel. If I had a kid that talked like that, I'd wear earplugs all the time.