Thursday, June 03, 2004

Clay Pots (and Other Assorted Tax Dodges)

Just got back from Roland Garros and boy is my face red. (Wow, I . . . I do apologize. Right out of the gate, too. No time for anyone to prepare. Goodness. I suppose I could blame the four cases of merlot, but as we/they say in Paris, that'll be 5,000 francs Misseur Lewis.)

Upon my return: Everything in my office had been rearranged and painted coffee filter orange, save for the green tea bags, which I knowingly faxed to my broker before I left (less caffeine means a lower commission--I'm saving already!). Let's be clear: My partner is both shameful and shameless at the same time (void where prohibited). Once I was in Civil Brand for six years, and I came back to find that he'd laminated my paralegal. (I'm not paying that temp $55 an hour just to spinal flex! That type of effort is worth $40 an hour, tops. Besides, who will run my wagers over to the OTB?). Were it not for the fact that my partner won back my favorite plastic binder ($11.50 on sale. On sale! I tells ya the Plastics Council rules the Free Masons, who in turn command the Rose Bowl Committee, who in turn run a mighty fine parade with a modestly priced after-brunch) in a fixed game of hold 'em (is there any other kind?), I would take my pre-moistened clasp envelopes and saunter elsewhere. But as it stands, the rent is paid through the month, so I may as well relax and dream of meatless Fridays (I believe their next disc drops on the 8th).

Anyone seen my 6-iron?

1 comment:

  1. I'll not stand on ceremony here (as I'm employing a booster seat with central air and 2 1/2 baths), but I feel compelled (and court-ordered) to state that the comments made forthwith are salacious and incindiary and downright presidential-- PRINT that!

    It's a welcome return to form and a strong outing (not mention a 3-run inning). In (court-ordered) celebration, I've fashioned a bust of my illustrious colleague from Akron (sorry, Saskatoon is STILL out of the district) out of back issues of Teen People and real Vermont maple syrup.

    Yes, the authorities have moved you on yet again (next time try a mustache). And yes, it is with a heavy heart that I bemoan the passing of our lucrative waterfront shell game. However, I'm tickled and honored (citing the same @%*$# court order) to remove the duct tape from your famed seat in this hallowed rotunda.

    Now fork over the (court-ordered) dues!


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