Archive for August 21, 2006

My Oil World

I live in an oil house. Okay, technically, my house is called a “condo,” but the carpet is oil, the paint is oil, the vinyl is oil, the dog - just kidding; I don’t have a dog, but my cat just died so I can’t joke about THAT - my computer (and yours, dear reader) is oil, the desk chair is oil, the thingie under the desk chair that makes the carpet smooth down so I can roll my chair around on it is definitely oil. The washing machine washes my husband’s oil clothes and the dryer dries them to an oil dry. The faucets spout oil and the noise from the cars and the trucks and the backup beeps and the radios in the alleys and the bombs going off all over the world are definitely oil noises. So compare me, or you, to an oily CEO well, why not to Paris, to Hilton, to my next vacation, to Hawai’i, to the Rez, to a Pakistani child diamond chip cutter, to the grand grand canyon, to NYC, to Brooklyn; we’re all living on, dying on, oil, while we’re busy blaming someone else. Cheers!

|