You’ll have to forgive any errors in this column. I’m txting the entire thing to New Times, on deadline, Gonzo-style, while driving back from Tijuana on the Cinco. It’s already been a long drive, and I’d love to dictate the thing over the phone, but talking while driving is illegal, wrong, unethical, and immoral, as everybody knows.
Unlike texting and driving, which is a God-given, inalienable right. At least nobody can ever take that away from us. Unless ... shit! Did you see that highway sign? It says: “Illegal to text and drive Jan. 1.”
Bastards. I’m going to text them an angry message as soon as I navigate this M
Whew. That wasn’t the capital-letters-not-swearing thing. That was my cell phone bouncing down the dash of the Dart after I nearly got clipped by one of those fancy new Chrysler Bailouts. Weird cars: They don’t come cheap, but they look tremendously stupid to everybody who hasn’t gotten one. Be nice if they were a little bigger so we could move in after the foreclosure.
Wow. Long column. Let’s give the thumbs a break for a bit, shall we? ……. ah, heh, heh …….. er? ………. Damn, these are short ellipsises; that didn’t fill any space at all, and I’m not at all sure that’s how you write the plural of ellipsis, or if there is a singular version come to think of it.
Cruising through the Third World, messing with editors. I’m a lot like Hunter S. Thompson, except I’m juiced on Musketeers instead of mescaline and I’m down with OPP instead of LSD. You know me.
It’s been a nice Mexican vacation for me, though, full of experimental medications and discount dentistry. Next time you see me, I’ll have my entire grill pimped and on display. They don’t even bother with fake teeth here, they just gather up the teeth scattered nightly across the sidewalks in the latest narco killings. Good, young teeth. Barely used.
Speaking of foreclosure, here’s something you recent homeowners need to know. Nobody’s supposed to tell you stuff like this, so listen up. This was a line in a story in the San Francisco Chronicle: “In California, purchase mortgages on residences are ‘nonrecourse,’ which means lenders cannot pursue foreclosed homeowners for additional money.”
You want that again?
In California, banks cannot come after homeowners who walk away from their mortgages and let them go to foreclosure. Plus, you can live payment-free until the process works itself out. Now, according to the story, walking away will destroy your credit as surely as George W. Bush diagramming a sentence. Better to negotiate with the lender or blah, blah, blah.
Once more: You can freakin’ walk away and they can’t do anything to you except make it harder for you to borrow money! Which you shouldn’t really be doing anyway, since you’re the type of person who’s willing to walk away from a mortgage.
Come to think of it, let’s just walk away from 2008, the recession, the stupid war, and the entire Bush presidency. We’ll write it off, walk away, and start rebuilding our credit. Rebuild our credit with the world, rebuild our credit with humanity. Rebuild our karma while we’re at it. We’ve built up quite a deficit, and payback’s a bitch.
Gas and oil
Time to stop for more gas. It’s so cheap I’m filling up the back seat, too, and I’m not the only one wasting it. Did you see that Greka, that fun-loving Santa Barbara County oil company, had three oil spills in three days around Christmas? I don’t know if you remember, but we started off the year with some Greka oil spills, too. They’ve tried to blame these various spills on everything from ghostly sabotage to bureaucratic harassment. In an unreassuring news release over the latest spill, company president Andrew DeVegvar got all bristly over suggestions that the company’s equipment might be a little too old.
Not so, he protested in a news release: “the only reasons there were any releases Saturday and Sunday was a result of human operator error.”
Somebody, the company explained, turned off the wrong valve, causing the last two spills. So don’t get your panties in a barrel, you regulators! The equipment’s only responsible for 33 percent of the recent oil spills. No problem.
Speaking of not having transitions from one thing to the next … heh, heh. Enviro Bill Denneen is still smarting about how I mentioned that he seemed to think Michelle Obama looks like a monkey, which I deduced because he sent out his newsletter with a photo of Michelle Obama, next to a chimp, making similar facial expressions. The caption: “Two primates.”
“How do you know what I think????” Denneen protests. “Just because two primates have similar facial expressions doesn’t mean I think Michelle Obama looks like a monkey.” He goes on to urge me to take biology classes “or at least Mammology” because chimps and monkeys, he alleges, are different. (He doesn’t know that I already aced MammaMiaOlogy; I’m a Super Trouper.)
Ah, okay, Bill. Got it. So that didn’t look like what it looked like? You just put those two photos next to each other, with similar expressions, because, ah … nope, you’ve lost me. Putting them together with that caption is giving the impression our future first lady looks like a monkey. Okay, a chimp. Can’t put that one back in the cage.
I suggest you just write it off and move on. We’re all doing that this year.
Shredder could be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org. But why?