Warning! This Post Contains A Politically Incorrect Joke!
So...whatcha doing.
Drinking. Studying. Drinking and studying.
How's that working out for you?
Eh. I am having some serious give a fuck problems at the moment. Impending deployment and all. I have a hard time worrying about Glassner's lame-ass book about paranoia where he tries to frighten everyone. I can see why Michael Moore likes this guy.
You know, you're the smartest person I know.
I am aware. I should be the only person you know, what with you being my conscience/internal monologue and so forth. You are exclusively my conscience, right?
Um, yeah.
Wait, you mean you work for other people?
Sort of, we've been through the amalgamation thing before. There's a few consciences I timeshare with. I'm also supposed to guide a conch fisherman in La Paz. That's why you seem to be obsessed with Baja, more than likely. Just like I'm the conscience of several Russian prostitutes and a handful of hobos.
That's kind of random. Do you have to draw straws? Like, why the baja kid? Are you sure you're qualified for all this?
We have an eight-week class and a cultural indoc for all the different people we have to be. I am current in several cultures, Indonesian, Indigenous New Zealander, Reformationist Hindu, and I'm working on my Appalachian qual. Kind of a tough one.
Well, most of my microculture derives from similar origins to most of your Appalachian people.
Really?
Oh yeah, I even knew how to yodel at one point. That and all the weird religious backstory is pretty much straight out of the hill people. I think anyway. You'll run into a lot of the same words.
Scrame?
That's one, I still catch myself using it sometimes. Past tense of scream. And Drame, past tense of dream. Also, scrempt.
Scrempt?
An indirect scrame, mostly.
Example.
"A call went out from some Brethren in Carbondale who had a young'n get croupy for the Elders, but they had to leave a day late; the elevator wouldn't take our beans early until Bro. Claudy went and scrempt at 'em."
I don't know whether to be fascinated or not.
I don't either, really. So, how much time do you really spend on me?
I just picked you up for the bullet on my annual eval, but you've taken up a lot of my time. The kid in Baja? He never needs shit from me. Of course, all he does is spear conches. I caught him screwing a tourist's daughter a while back, but I figure what the hell, the kid deserves to misbehave a little.
Tourists in La Paz?
Long story. Hey look at that, a sailor recalled even though he was discharged for being a fruit.
Woah, you can't say it like that! What the fuck kind of conscience are you? Besides, see where he was sent?
Naval customs battalion bravo, Iraq. Ha. That's funny, that's where you're getting recalled into. Know what the difference between your recall and his is?
There's a difference?
Yeah, he LIKES getting fucked in the ass.
Wow. Um...is it OK to laugh at that joke?
Quietly in your head is fine.
9 comments:
Oops. I laughed out loud.
Nice backwoodsisms.
Im glad yer teachrs have holped ya talk right.
[insert knowing nod here]
Indeed, Casey.
Indeed.
I love this post. It makes me happy.
If I gave my readers a glimpse into my inner-monologues I think I'd scare the bajeezes out of people.
Revernd: I kind of did, too. Does Sister Veronica have a cat o' nine?
Joey: I'm glad I could help. I thought briefly of writing this blog phonetically, sort of like this Polski I know.
Momentary Academic: So you have some backwoods creep up every once in a while? By the way, I am in love with your avatar guitar. Too bad they quit making them.
Diesel: Glad I could help make your life better.
Dr.: I only let the tame exchanges be made public. As it turns out, my conscience is a drunken pervert with a temper problem.
As it turns out, my conscience is a drunken pervert with a temper problem.
You too? I just don't know what to do about my conscious. Sometimes I think I'd be better without it.
And, that Glassner book...is that the Culture of Fear one? My sister keeps trying to get me to read it. I don't wanna.
It sure is. Basically, he tries to get you to quit buying into the politico-media machine's fear mongering (good). Then he turns around and tries to scare you into agreeing with his agenda (bad).
If you read it, get it from the library, don't buy it. And don't be surprised when all the black-wearing, conspiracy-believeing Michael Moore-o-philes think you are their friend.
This post is brilliant.
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