C'est Non Un Blog

To: God
From: Ben

Thank you so much God for new O.C. I really appreciate it.

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I was just about this close to a heart attack today. So I’m checking out vtlottery.com this morning to see if I won the Powerball and I notice that the Jackpot went down, meaning someone won it. I look down at the numbers and at my ticket at the same time. The first three numbers are exactly the same. My heart stops a beat.

Of course then I notice that none of the other numbers match. But still, $7! I’m back in the clear again. If I keep this up there really is no reason NOT to play Powerball. I mean, I never lose money and I have the chance to win lots of it. My mom even says that if anyone she knows would win the lotto, it would be me.

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I know some of my friends who read this watch Survivor. So I ask you, what the crap happened tonight? How is Jamie still on the show? They still had the numbers, why not get rid of that ass? Still, it made for one of the best episodes of Survivor ever. Every time I’m disgusted with something from now on I’m going to spit.

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Everwood = The best show you aren’t watching.

How is it that oil usage can be going down, but a company like Exxon-Mobil can see a net increase in profits of over 75%? And why do oil companies need $4 billion in tax breaks again? It seems like they are doing OK to me.

I should have posted this last night, as it would be more timely and not as lame a post as this, but last night’s The Office was probably one of the funniest yet. From moving Dwight’s desk into the Men’s Room before the opening credits, to Dwight and Micheal wailing on each other like little girls, the show had me in tears for the whole episode. Best quote: “While the Albany branch is actually working through their lunch hour to avoid downsizing, Micheal has actually added an hour onto lunch so that we can all go down to the dojo to watch him and Dwight fight. Fight, fight, fight!”

OK, well, I have to make a decision on my insurance by Wednesday. I could stay with what I have, which sucks but is relatively cheap ($6) or I could go to a good provider and pay out four times as much. I’m never sick and loathe going to the doctor, but heaven forbid I ever need to do so. I could definitely use the money, but would really REALLY need it if I ever got sick. Oh decisions. I hate them. Mainly because I hate reading all the boring literature they give you to tell you about the plans. Grrr.

Since I always seem to bitch and complain about work when it is not going so right, I should probably write when life’s all right, no? Yesterday, although we didn’t exactly sell lots, was actually a really good day. One of those days when you can easily talk to everyone and everyone seems to be having fun. Oh man, I love it. Too bad I couldn’t sell anything to anyone. You’ve never seen someone work harder; it just wasn’t in the cards for me, I guess.

There were two portents of doom that morning though. First I had to take a detour because the Reluctant Panther burned to the ground. Then a bird flew smack dab into the middle of the front store window. He got back up and flew away…after a while.

I had a dream the other night where I was literally carrying my dirty laundry around with me. Wrap your noggin around that.

OK, I’ll say it: Meg White is damn hot.

I just watched The White Stripes concert DVD, Under Blackpool Lights, and while Jack White was wailing away on his guitar I sat there transfixed on Meg. Meg’s drums have a very raw, primal, masculine sound, and yet looking at Meg you couldn’t be thinking anything but the opposite was true. Her back is delicately arched, her head tilted to the side so that her hair can fall in her face. On a downbeat you can even see her pinky lift up on her left hand, as if she were at some fancy tea party. She could not look more sexy if she tried. And to all of those that say she can’t play the drums, well, they’re just jealous. She just makes the whole thing look easy.

Best of all, the whole time she looks like she’s having a blast. Which actually reminded me a lot of Ginger Rogers. I had watched some of her films with Fred Astaire lately, and again I was fixed on this woman doing what she does best while making the whole thing look like a quick rehearsal before the lunch break. I have a fantasy of getting dance lessons from this woman. Like Meg, some put Ginger down by focusing all of their attentions on Astaire’s effortless footwork. But as one critic famously said when asked which they thought was the better dancer, “Ginger did everything Fred did, only backwards, and in heels.”

Which brings me back to that smirk and smile both these women seem to have. It’s as if they know how good they are and are just marveling in how fun it is making the seemingly impossible look so easy. And I have to tell you, as a guy, that’s really hot.

Dear Mr Ben Merrell,

Our records show that you haven’t yet registered for the benefits of AARP membership, even though you are fully eligible…

…

Uh, what? I’m not even sure my parents are fully eligible yet. I mean don’t you have to be retired first? And over 55? What the F?

If you’d like to check out my lame ass MySpace page, well, here you go.  Any suggestions for non-sucking can be directed there!

Man, today was like parade of the idiots day at work. I swear I’ve never wanted to hit so many customers in quick succession ever before. Everything I hate about asshole customers came out today. John never came in, as he’s still sick, so I couldn’t leave early. The air conditioner was broke in theater and projection room, making those rooms amazingly hot, and the repair guy came in and fixed it…only to switch it so that the store is now 80 degrees and rising. Idiots, Idiots, Idiots. I swear I get some really asses sometimes, but I’ve never come so close to physical violence as today. It would take me too long to write it all down so I’ll just leave it at that. Why do people have to be idiots, why?

I started up a MySpace account. God knows why. No really, ask him. He’ll tell you all about it.

My book doesn’t seem to be as bad as its introduction, thankfully.

Jeremy is having a boy! And I hear the name that they are thinking of going with is Abram. I didn’t like it at first, but it’s growing on me.

Jeremy related to me today a cool dream that he had last night. In it he saw Darth Vader kill his father, who was a marionette with his strings cut, lying in bed. Later Jeremy was both Luke and himself and went off to kill Vader.

You know how when most people tell you their dreams and your eyes glaze over from boredom? This wasn’t one of those dreams. I instantly thought this was one of the coolest premises for a dream I’ve ever heard. I mean, can you all see the myriad of layers there are in just those two sentences? Freud could have a field day!