virulent.nu

The internet connection I’ve been stealing since I’ve moved in was finally secured. I am trying to give myself weekly assignments to break the cycle of food, mom’s cable, work, drinking with gen-Xers. Hypothetically, this includes writing but I haven’t thought much beyond such and such a poem about fish.

Someone else, give me an assignment. It will be most successful if I get to be funny.

I could mention that on Saturday night I found myself at a bar called Stinky’s, which is full of young and middle aged yinzers. They sang journey in unison, and it was as if you knew the same young kids will be living in the same neighborhood and going to the same bar in twenty years.

I kept trying to secretly take pictures of the absurd shit men were wearing, but they looked like the type to threaten physical harm to a camera phone and/or a misplaced, bespectacled indie rocker. I was the only girl in the bar wearing glasses. However, I did see the only guy in the bar wearing GIGANTIC JESUS BLING. This was a diamond-encrusted 4″ gold cross slung low on his chest. He also wore plaid almost-pants, the length of which I had falsely believed to be out-dated.

I hesitate to call these kinds of people white trash, because they aren’t. This barely explains a yinzer, but here is a good break down of their linguistic habbits. I admit it was only recently that I consciously fixed a grave yinzer halmark, the omission of “to be.” My “car needs washed” has become the much less embarrassing my “car needs to be washed.”