Words and Thoughts – July 18, 2024
Hello again, alleged readers. Late last week, I was accosted on the street by some ne’er-do-wells with their pamphlets about the environment; and presumably big oil, big pharma, and medium sauce. A bubbly woman approached me and asked me if I knew that by the year 2124, the temperature on earth might rise by six degrees. Firstly, she was not talking about Kevin Bacon, secondly, a six-degree increase will not be enough to fry bacon on the street. So, in summary, none of what she was talking about was bacon related, which I found unfortunate.
I said, “Lady, Ol’ Stav here ain’t fixn’a be ’round these parts by then.” Shrewd as she was bubbly, she countered with, “But the kids will, and those kids are our future!” Fortuitously there was a baby in a stroller nearby; and as I glanced at this baby, within seconds it involuntarily blew a snot bubble, then threw up on itself. If that’s my future, I don’t want it. I demand to blow snot bubbles, and/or puke, purely of my own volition, on my terms! I responded to her, “the future is horrifying,” and then I gagged a little as the rottweiler belonging to the snotty pukey baby’s family tried to lick the puke off the child, much to the child’s amusement. I have eaten literal trash before (sometimes on a dare, sometimes because it looked good), but even for me, this was a new level of ick.
Shortly after this conversation, upon my return home, I became highly aware of how hard it is to actually blow a quality snot bubble. Needless to say, I’ve spent much of my time this week at my desk practicing the art of snot bubbling. I have watched a lot of videos of echidnas blowing snot bubbles (Google it, seriously), but I, while perhaps at first glance appearing somewhat echidna-like, am not an echidna, and can not blow a consistently adequate snot bubble.
I called a meeting on Tuesday with the subject line “Urgent Operational Update”, and once everyone was there, I updated them that I couldn’t operate my nose good, and am urgently seeking their thoughts on how to improve. Not one of those 14 people, including upper management, had any ideas for me. I guess, dear alleged readers, I’m on my own.
However now, I’m neither optimistic about my future, having seen that gross baby, nor am I optimistic about the future of the company I allegedly work at, what with a complete lack ability to generate innovative ideas. Dark times, these.
Although, upon further mental marination regarding Little Lord Grossleroy back there that day in the stroller… he was very good at snot bubbles. And like I said, he wasn’t even trying. Perhaps this child of the future is the key to my success. By studying its ways, I will master snot bubbles, and therefore avoid the future I so dreaded, by mastering the skills I so presently lack.
Stav Knudsenen: 22nd Century fox.