Only Eleven Dalmatians
I attribute all of my current woe to a single news paper headline: “Ninety Puppies Killed in Tragic Tractor Trailer Fire”.
I have been in a stupor, a slump, a bit of a funk if you will, for the last couple months. It isn’t a crippling depression, obvious to friends and foes alike by my body language and a glazed over gleam in my eye. Nah, I would describe this more like a fogginess that is surrounding my soul (y’know, assuming I have one), weighing me down just enough to be a pain in the ass.
I have tried to alleviate my self using the usual methods: pretty women, crazy women, getting absolutely hammered, remaining stone cold sober, working out, living like a sloth. None of it worked. I even upped my Starbucks consumption, hoping that an increased intake of caffeine would shatter the stupor. Unfortunately the only thing the extra coffee has given me is mild heart palpitations.
Yeah, yeah, I know what you are all thinking, “Charlie, what the fuck does this have to do with all of those dead puppies!”
To be honest? I am not sure. You see I think my funk set in immediately after reading that article. I think something just clicked in my head. Why would someone write a story about ninety puppies dying? I mean, sure, it happened and it is horrible, but hundreds of horrible things happen every day that affect my life far more than the death ninety innocent, cuddly puppies. Why would a newspaper print this story on the front page (MSN also had an article on the main splash image of their website) and shatter my illusion that all puppies frolic together in some mystical puppy land before finding their way to some kindly owner? Shit, maybe it is because the media has already destroyed all of our other wonderful conceptions and thoughts; this was just the final ball stomp on an already hemorrhaging man.
