NOONER
*PG-13
I don’t remember when Nooners became formal. It used to start with a cocktail and small talk. Now, I have to fill out piles of paperwork, shave my legs, get a Brazilian, and wait for Mr. Right behind closed doors. The bar atmosphere was replaced by white walls, plastic chairs, and a receptionist sitting behind the desk with a phone receiver stuck to her ear, while she marks my reservation… a table for one.
I AM NOT A BLIMP
*PG-13
Do I look like an overblown, gaseous mess of a promotional billboard? I am not a blimp. The reference is absurd, illogical, and most politically derogatory, nonetheless, hurtful.
Blimps are enormous aerial devices. You won’t catch me floating over the Super Bowl stadium anytime soon. Nope. This lean body will fall in a tailspin straight toward the 50 yard line. After my abstract splattering, the maintenance crew would have to scrape me off the grass before play can begin. The football commissioner would charge my beneficiary an absurd amount of money for wardrobe malfunction, and my fifteen minutes of fame are used up in six. I am not a blimp.