Amoeblog

(Wherein I begrudgingly mumble the Body Electric.)

Posted by Job O Brother, February 25, 2014 10:07am | Post a Comment


Bollocks.


I hope you won’t think less of me, dear reader, but I’ve started going to the gym regularly. But wait – it gets worse – I’ve been going there to exercise.

I realize this sort of behavior doesn’t gracefully jive with my established persona; I live my life and make choices guided by the principle: What would Mrs. Dalloway do if Laurie Anderson was scripting her fate? If someone’s going to cast an actor to play me in a film, I aspire for the obvious choice to be Liv Ullman, or – if the film’s merely going to focus on my nervous breakdown, circa 1996 – Mink Stole, please.


"I can neither live with this crushing depression, nor tolerate anymore cheap, turquoise jewelry."
- Mink Stole as the author in his early 20s


None of these women would be caught dead wearing the sweatpants and V-neck undershirt I don for my workout routine, nor subject themselves to my Sisyphean Stairmaster set – though the look on my face when I approach the scale in the men’s locker-room does, I think, parallel certain expressions Ms. Ullman crafted in some of the darker scenes of Ansikte mot Ansikte.


Exercise is boring. It rivals sleep for my title of Most Boring Thing I’m Obligated to Do if I’m Going to Stay Alive on this Impertinent Planet Against My Better Judgment. (I’m sure you can imagine the glittered sash for this honor looks obnoxious.) I sometimes wonder if I don’t burn more calories procrastinating gym-time; regardless, if I’m going to have any meaningful self-respect, I simply cannot kid myself into thinking that – instead of heading for the treadmill – it’s a “real priority” to wash the lids of my spice-rack… again.

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Postcards of My Vacation Back Home:

Posted by Job O Brother, August 26, 2007 02:43pm | Post a Comment



Well, well – Look who’s come sauntering in like everything’s normal. If it isn’t little ol’ me. I think I can just waltz back in here after having been missing for days and expect you to just read my blog as though nothing’s happened? Is that it?

Well, I have another thing coming. You’re not some screensaver I can leave on, perpetually cycling a kaleidoscope of flying toasters while I go out and have a life! This is unacceptable! I mean, am I a blogger or not?

STOP!

You want the truth? Is that it? YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE TRUTH.

Actually, you can, but I love that line. YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE TRUTH. It’s so over-the-top. I’m totally going to say it to my future kids whenever possible.

“Dad? How do erasers work?”

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