The New Andrea, and Some Tangential Comments
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Like breakfast is the new lunch, and the margarita is the new martini, I am the new Andrea Spencer. Out with the old, in with the new, I've always said.
It has been mentioned in the past that Adam Mathes is seeking a token Andrea replacement for the Uber staff. Requirements? Short, female, has breasts, and willing to write about boobs and lesbians. Gee, I don't know, is 5'1.5" short enough for you? (The half inch is very important. It's what separates me from all those scary circus midgets.) I have breasts, and though I may be somewhat of a man, I am undeniably female in physical appearance. I have already written about lesbians, and in even writing these words, I write about boobs.
You have no choice but to accept me. I've seen "The Talented Mr. Ripley", I can do this. If it happens in a movie, it can happen in real life, you know. Except there's no lesbian subtext to what I'm doing. I just find it endlessly amusing. I'm laughing frenetically as I type this. Really, I am. Besides, if David Bernreuther can be "Adam Goddamn Mathes" then I sure as hell will not be stopped from assuming the position of Andrea Motherfucking Spencer. So there. What else is there to write?
Oh yeah. This is a bit tangential, but I think it's important.
Most of my male friends really belong in the Age of Colonization, Elizabethan England, Shogun Japan, or some other time period when empire building skills, mass diplomacy, and war strategy were actually useful and there was real-world release for the desire to conquer vast tracts of land. Nowadays, all that exists are computer games.
Now, I'm not saying that these aren't realistic simulations of world conquest, but "megalomaniac" is just not an acceptable answer to "What do you want to be when you get out of college?" I mean, who really could execute a successful world takeover in three months of late nights and weekends? All the people who would have been generals and conquistadors and samurai at any other time in history have become a generation of computer geeks, pale and squinting at the monitor as they plan their next campaign against the Greeks, or the zombies, or whatever they're currently fighting against. (Not that I have anything against computer geeks; I merely regret that they will probably never have real armies to command or get to do much conquering at all. At least until the revolution comes.)
Solution? War with Canada. There's really nobody up there anyway, so there's plenty of room, and with ol' George W.'s nifty new missile technology that he seems to be hoping will materialize out of thin air, we'll blow their sorry beer-bloated asses halfway to Beijing.
No, that's not a real solution. I like Canada, actually. Any country with a drinking age lower than ours is fine by me, especially when they speak english. But they're just such an easy target. I mean, come on. A maple leaf? Isn't that a communist thing? Or was it fascist? Or populist…you know what, never mind, this isn't going anywhere.
Finally, in response to J.P. McMahon's list of my possible first names, this is a list of first names I wish I had (not necessarily starting with F):
We welcome F. Amelia Howes with open arms. And open flies.