THAT SHOW FROM THE OLD DAYS

Something new to me: You have to be at least in your thirties to discover dead bodies. That seems to be the logical thing I get from half-assedly listening to my apartment mate critiquing a teevee show from back in the stone age. Twenties just won't cut it. The heroine in that show was moronic and irritating, far too immature.

I'm inclined to agree. Juveniles should never discover or stumble over deceased people. That's something only adults should do. The older the better. Super-annuated old fossils have much more in common with cadavers.

Given that work brings me into contact with elderly Republican hosebags, naturally I would think that. And I'm still somewhat staggered by the young lady I encountered several months ago who was studying to be an embalmer. She seemed happy at the prospect of eventually squirting the recently departed full of preservatives and plastic, and I don't think she even knew any of the old boys in the back room. Just a naturally sunny disposition, I guess.

The young are often overly optimistic. Reality and a sober view of the world usually don't manifest themselves until after graduation, sometimes years, after which hysterics and existential angst may kick in.

"I trained to become an embalmer, and the only dang employment I could find was in a corporate marketing department. What gives?!?"

Well, in a way, that's close.

Far too many college kids think that they should specialize in a field they love, like embalming, and end up bitterly disappointed in soul-crushing marketing jobs.
No cadavers, just zombies.


There are embalmers manqué coming out of the woodwork.
It's a dying field.


Kid, trust me, develop an affecting for marketing. Work at it, and eventually you'll find dead people all over the place, they just don't know it yet. Or go to the culinary academy.
We'll always need tattooed and pierced fry cooks.
Disillusioned, drunk, angry.
With knives.


Note: The illustration has nothing to do with this post. I drew it two days ago and I wanted to show it. The post itself was more or less inspired by listening to my apartment mate with half an ass, after a full day at work hearing someone detailing the sleazy hook-up attempts of a mutual acquaintance. Which could have been successful, if she hadn't been married and there with her husband, if he had not been surprised in mid-sleaze by his current crazy girlfriend (who is very possessive), if there had not been so many observers stirring up the cauldron, and if neither of them had been drunk. Yes, I was an unwilling witness. But the listener had not been there, and though quite uninterested somehow "needed" to hear all the dreary vulgar details.



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