Marika Malaea

faithful marauder + fake royal

Ahoy, Marmaduke the Whore

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Photo: Man, I miss these guys.

With a second interview at SEOmoz tomorrow, I’ve been contemplating my future, and I came to these conclusions:

1. I’m not so much a “decision maker” lately as I am “the opposite of that”. Too much time at home has made me idle (not idol-ed), so it’s time to get back to work.
2. I like to do everything and nothing, which makes for an interesting philosophy debate and very little take-home pay.
3. Choosing a career should be fun and engaging, like playing Russian Roulette (Roulette is a favorite theme of mine lately!).

*spin*

I’m going to be a sailor. No! I’m going to be a mariner. An adventurous life at sea, with only my shipmates and trusty intuition to guide us. What’s that saying, though–something about the captain going down with the ship? I believe it’s just an unwritten responsibility (Wiki check: true), one that I would heartily ignore. So maybe I wouldn’t like being a mariner, after all. Lame. I was looking forward to wearing a uniform men in uniform.

*spin*

I’m going to be a hooker–wait! I’m going to be a lady of the evening. Sounds classier. Well, ‘lady’ is stretching it a bit, but I am a night owl; that has to count for something. And I’m friendly! Mostly to your face and not to your private parts, but friendliness is key when building a solid client base; I’ve been in customer service since Jesus walked on water (and you people believed it). As any mother would on Mother’s Day, I spent the evening looking at local prostitution sites with my boyfriend’s mom and sister, searching for the worst and then finding it. Says one local girl with a talent for massage: “Want a little more pizazz? Upgrade to my expanded massage. The first half of our session will be sensual touch. The 2nd half of our time will be spent on a sanitized air mattress.” Three words: Sign. Me. Up.

*spin*

I’m going to start creating cartoons to submit to the Sunday morning paper–I’m going to be a cartoonist! I’m really only doing this because the Sunday morning newspaper–no matter what newspaper we’re talking about–has the WORST cartoons on the planet, if not the entire solar system. Calvin & Hobbes was dope (RIP), and Doonesbury is all right–less funny and more informative–but all of the other ones are complete shit. Mary Worth, Prince Valiant, The Family Circus, MARMADUKE?! The Esq says Non Sequitur is funny sometimes, and I can handle Luann sometimes, or maybe Get Fuzzy; but I give a fat middle finger to Cathy and her years of endless whining about being fat and unlovable. You’re fat and unlovable for a reason, accept it and move on. I’d hate to meet the creator of that cartoon–I always imagined she would just be a real-life, magnified version of Cathy: tearing her hair out in dressing rooms, sweating profusely, and squawking on the phone with her mother. I need to put her out of her misery; this is a priority.

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Written by sn0tteh

May 12, 2008 at 9:44 PM

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