Several Absurdities

I felt just a leetle bit self-conscious carrying these up to the cash register at Rite Aid, one cradled in each hand. Did the manufacturer have to make them look so extremely phallic? And what’s with the shiny chromium-look heads caps? When B saw me take them out of the bag his first comment was, “Those look like dildos.” And they do. No two ways about it.

The thing is this shampoo and conditioner delivers on their promises. They thicken and volumize. How I don’t know, as the first ingredient in both of them reads pretentiously and at the same time condescendingly: “aqua (water)”—thanks for the translation; I would have been totally mystified otherwise.

Moving on. B doesn’t think I should be blogging about dildoid hair-product packaging and has suggested two other topics.

Topic A is the awful play we went to last night at the very same college where we saw an awful play last weekend. Are we gluttons for punishment or what? It was a Harold Pinter play, which I’ve found is always terribly difficult for Americans to pull off. But I love Pinter, so I guess I was hoping for a miracle. It was not to be. The poor actress in the lead kept wiping her palms against the front of her dress every minute or two. It drove me crazy! And she had no clue how to move across the stage. She didn’t walk; she loped—in high heels. Quite a feat really, but this wasn’t Cirque du Soleil, it was Theatre of the Absurd. It was absurd all right, but it was the wrong kind of absurd.

Topic B is cute kitties! Not being a blogger, B doesn’t know that if you blog about cats you are inviting ridicule from certain quarters. I’ll risk it this one time.

On my way back from having coffee and dessert with the lovely LeLo, I found myself passing the Oregon Humane Society, where we adopted our cute kitty Rusty almost exactly three years ago. I decided to stop in and get Rusty a new Swizzle Teaser to replace the one we bought when we adopted him. He does love that toy, but the fake leopard fur is now stiff with slaver and horribly gross.

Of course, I couldn’t go in the Humane Society and not check out all the cute kitties! I made a beeline for the little cubby Rusty had been in when we adopted him. Not sure why. There was a black-and-white cat named Jasper there and on his cage was a label that read: “Don’t stick your fingers in my cage or I might do something we’d both regret.” Hey, just like Rusty! He had one of those Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde warning labels, too!

Keeping my hands well out of the way, I leaned in to get a closer look at Rusty’s successor. He promptly took a swipe at my nose. I wasn’t even that close and he felt it necessary to lash out. I liked him very much. He simply didn’t give a shit that it wasn’t in his best interests to strike a prospective owner.

Today’s Random NaBloPoMo blog: Music and Cats (appropriately enough!)