Wednesday, September 18, 2002

I guess it would behoove me at this point to explain my recent absence from the blogging scene. Rest assured, I wouldn’t have taken so much time off if I didn’t have a good and truthful excuse. I will now make one up.

It all began in late August, when I was contacted via telephone by an official from the U.S. Department of All Sorts of Things. When I asked him how he got my number, I was surprised to learn that my name is currently on a list of people the government can contact regarding All Sorts of Things and the implementation of policies regarding All Sorts of Things as well as All Types of Other Things That May Come Up With No Advance Warning.

The man from USDAST identified himself as Luke Winthrop, and told me he had a series of questions about all sorts of things and was wondering if I might help him out. I told him I would do my best, but that I could make no guarantees. A short transcript of the ensuing conversation is as follows.

LW: So, what have you been up to lately?

Me: Oh, you know. Same old shit. Just trying to make an honest living in this crazy world.

LW: Really? That’s cool. Have you read any good books lately? Our records indicate that you like to read books of all sorts ... and hardcore donkey porn mags ... and the sides of cereal boxes. Whew, you have an interesting profile Mr. Innocenzi. But I’m getting off the subject. So, yeah. Um, you read any good books lately?

Me: Yeah, yeah. As a matter of fact, yeah. My lovely and gorgeous sexy fun smart girlfriend, Miya, gave me this one book as a gift. It’s called “The Passion.” It’s about this guy who cooks chickens for Napoleon and falls in love with some Venitian hooker with webbed feet and—

LW: Um, Mr. Innocenzi, I’m trying to conduct a serious inquiry here. If you haven’t read anything lately just say so. Don’t go making shit up and wasting my time.

Me: But—

LW: I sit here in a cubicle all day, speed dialing a bunch of pompous know-it-alls who know all sorts of things, but seem to fall short when it comes to knowing a little something about common fucking courtesy—

Me: No, you don’t understand—

LW: Oh, I think I understand. I’m just a little worm, some little, inconsequential bug who you can toy with for your own amusement. Well, I got news for you Mr., I have a wife and kids back home who aren’t going to find it very funny when daddy comes home in a bad mood and accidentally stomps the Playstation to pieces because he can’t stand the fucking racket anymore. My boss isn’t going to be laughing either when I tell him your little fairy tale about women with cleft palates and guys who wash windows for King Friday—

Me: No, it was chicken. He cooked it—

LW: Yeah, the old boss might even tell his boss about your little ego trip and maybe have the IRS do a surprise audit on one Michael Innocenzi: Smartass at Large. Here’s a little information I need for my survey, Mikey Boy: Would it frighten you to know that I not only have your address, but I also have the phone number of a guy named Brick Face Marconi who cracks the spines of shitheads like you for fun?

Me: Well, yes. But—

LW: Oh yeah it would. Wouldn’t it? So now Mr. Fancy Storytelling Boy is ready to wet his pants and run home crying to Mommy, isn’t he?

Me: No, but—

LW: Yeah, Mr. Screw Everyone Else’s Life, Let’s Just Think About Myself might have a little attack of conscience if he knew that some Italian with a machete in his pocket was going to chop off his limbs and use them as firewood, wouldn’t he? So do me a favor; Do us both a favor, and just answer the questions without being a dick about it. You think you can do that? Huh? Do yah?

Me: Well, sure. I mean, I was just trying to help.

LW: OK then. Next question...