I’ve been thinking a lot about the Roman Empire lately. Which of course leads me to think about the fall of the Roman Empire. And how much I hate those ugly gladiator sandals everyone is wearing, but that’s not really the point.
You see, I’m pretty sure I live in Rome. Fine, to be perfectly fair, I live in a suburb of Rome. (The Roman Suburbs. Does that sound like a kick ass band name or what? Their debut album should be entitled “Lead Poisoning Sucks.”)
Anyway, I suspect that when the end of the world comes, it’s going to hit here first. That, or we’ll all slowly go mad from breathing those toxic fumes that surround the nine hundred and seventeen nail salons peppered around Manhattan and suddenly one day snap, suffocating one another with Subway sandwich wrappers and discarded pages of the Village Voice while the rest of the world shakes their heads, sipping wine civilly from crystal glasses.
Sometimes, I overhear conversations that make me think that day is here already, that the oxygen levels have already dropped below safe levels. Like this one:
Girl: I’m pregnant.
Other Girl: See what happens when you use the front hole?
Ok, so that one might not have been random strangers, but I’ll deny everything in a court of law. Speaking of the legal system, I was down by the courthouse a while back and heard this little jewel:
Girl: So! How’s the baby?
Second Girl: I sold it.
*sigh* Of course you did.
Guy: Sometimes I worry I have a drinking problem.
Other Guy: Why?
Guy: I keep waking up in my own piss.
Other Guy: You have a drinking problem.
You know what? I’m a glass half full kind of girl, especially when that glass is half full of straight liquor. (I need a little room for my mixer, damnit.) So I’ll just celebrate the fact that his buddy recognized that waking up in a puddle of piddle isn’t exactly a healthy lifestyle. So maybe I don’t have to start stockpiling non-perishable foods and water filtration devices…yet.
Still, I’m starting to see the upside of living in Ohio.
Note: I blame KeepingYouAwake for this post. He spent the whole morning distracting me with videos like this one. Which may replace “Big Booty Bitches” as my favorite song to sing while browsing the frozen foods section of my grocery store. Oh, for the record, I suppose you could consider it vaguely NSFW. You suit wearing types do get a little worked up about that, don’t you? You post one little Willie Nelson Vag…