d Pardon My Juice: November 2005

Tuesday, November 29

The Rauschenberg

MAN: Uhh, excuse me, I'd like to buy the Rauschenberg over there.
GALLERY ATTENDENT: The what?
M: The Rauschenberg, over in the corner there.
GA: Oh, you mean the Duchamp.
M: There's no Duchamp over there. I mean the Rauschenberg.
GA: The whositswhatsits?
M: The Rauschenberg, the collage there in the corner, awkwardly placed next to the Magritte.
GA: Ohh, the Magritte! A fine choice, a good choice.
M: Yes, the Magritte is good, but I'd like the Rauschenberg.
GA: Magritte's not really to my taste, I much prefer the Existensialists, but--you know, what will you do when you work at this sort of gallery.
M: Certainly you mean the Expressionists.
GA: No, Magritte's not to my tastes, but I'll ring you up for it.
M: I'm really not asking for the Magritte. It's a fine painting but I don't want it.
GA: No one asks me for my opinon. Oh no, they're always so interested in what they like, in what they want. No one ever bothers to ask me what I'd like. All these colors and no pictures to look at. I just work for the gallery, that's it. The Magritte's two-fifty.
M: I don't want the Magritte, I want the Rauschenberg. Can I show you which one I mean?
GA: You can show me, but I won't like it. Not one bit. What are you? Some kind of hoity-toity, light-in-the-loafers college man? You probably teach gender studies or Chaucer or something.
M: Look, what I do doesn't matter, I just want to buy that painting there in the corner.
GA: The always say, "It's a matter of personal taste. I just like that painting." Certainly, Archimedes didn't say that when he wrote his discourse on art. Certainly not.
M: Fine, how much for the Duchamp?
GA: The Duchamp's 720. But we don't have it in stock right now.

(I don't know where this goes or if it went anywhere to begin with.)

Friday, November 11

Garrison Keillor Said This:

"We made our choices in life, based on lousy information, and got stuck being who we are."

...And I like it.

Monday, November 7

A Prayer

Lord, please forgive me. I know I have sinned. I know I am a sinner. Please Lord, have leniency on my meager and pathetic soul. I am a man and fallible. I know I am unworthy.

When I took that package of Bic pens, I knew it was wrong. I know I shouldn't take things home from the office. The day was getting long and I was tired and the wife told me to pick some up at the store.

Please Lord, forgive me for when I ordered an extra pair of scissors for the wife when my boss asked me to order office supplies for my division. Making Wal-Mart pay for my wife to have nice things is a sin and wrong and I know it.

And, Lord, forgive me when I told my boss to shovehis finger up his ass when he told me that I shouldn't have ordered that second pair of scissors. I don't know how he found out about it, but he did and I am sorry. Mean words are not the way of the Lord.

Also, Lord, forgive me for when I sent that anonymous note to the boss when he asked all the low-level executives like myself to work 15 hours of unpaid overtime a week the closer we get to Christmas. Telling him he was what's wrong with America was not right, not patriotic and not the way of a man of faith like myself. Furthermore, putting a picture of a goat with an arrow pointing to its ass and a caption reading "fuck here" was simply vile, inappropriate and stupid.

And when I used your name in vain when I received an e-mail to come to my boss' office to discuss disciplinary actions about said anonymous note, and when I suggested that the bitch in accounts receivable who ratted me out be sent to Hell, forgive me for these sins too.

I'll take whatever punishment you'll give me for calling her a bitch.

And, Lord, forgive my son for being gay and my daughter for being a slut. Forgive my wife for being cold and distant and not wanting to have more kids. Forgive her also for that blow job in the kitchen three weeks ago. My wife that is, not my daughter. I forgot to ask forgiveness for that. Woops!

Thank you mercifcul lord for forgiving me of my sins. Thank you for giving me a moderarely attractive family and a job that puts delicious food on the table. Thank you mostly, though, for you being you and doing what you did. Forgiveness is pretty damn great.