A Timely Raven

Introductions are tedious. Polite conversation has never been my strong suit; I much prefer action to chatter, especially when the latter is without purpose. After all, I do not fancy you, and I doubt you will fancy me. I am not inclined to seek your romantic attention,  and so I feel little obligation to make myself seem more noble, or charming, or interesting than I am. It’s curious, don’t you think, the way people endeavor to attract their romantic interest by lying to them? It’s a logic I cannot understand. But romance has little place in my world anyhow. Mine is a perfectly utilitarian existence, and I quite like it that way. I exist to perform a single duty, and without question, I am the best in my profession. There is none better. That is not hubris, it’s merely the truth. I never said I was humble, but then I haven’t said much about myself at all. Everything you need to know about me can be summed up in eight words, and so I will just get to it.

I am a raven. 

And I kill people.

A new marketing campaign for KFC

Me: “I’ve just been riled up all day. Angry at the world.”

Co-worker: “You want some chicken?”

Now that’s a stress management technique I’m not familiar with.

Edit: As I’m writing this, my boss walks in and says, “Ooh, [coworker]’s not here! I can eat his chicken!”

Maybe this is some magical fucking chicken.

Me Snow me dopple a dayo.

My daughter has been singing “Informer” all night. There’s only so many times you can hear someone say, “Informer! [insert a bunch of random sounds here] A licky boom boom down” before wanting to punch someone in the mouth, no matter how much you love them.

Though, I am kind of interested in the demographics of this song. I mean, I’m guessing the dems work something like this: There’s us folks between the ages of around 32-38, and then there’s the children of those folks, anywhere from around 8 or 9 to 13. I’m guessing anybody outside this pretty narrow bracket will never fully appreciate the reggae legend that is Snow.