Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Excuse me

I love excuses. I can conjour them for any occasion. This morning I had to make one up to tell a mortgage holding company to keep me from working for them, because I'd much rather work for the greeting card company, so I came up with an elaborate and not entirely untrue excuse.

The secret of the excuse, as with all deceptions, is the deep but simple shading of truth. You don't want to pepper an excuse with too much truth, because it's hard enough to remember how real reality should be working, nevermind this marbled fish-story you've layed on this unwitting rube. Lies are blunt and final. but the excuse implies an ongoing relationship, so you have to remember all the line-items in the contract. My grandpa Staufenbiel might have told me once "Keep your tall tales tiny", and I might tell you the same. My grandpa Smith definitely told me that all jews are rats, but I would never tell you that.

I make excuses to visit St. Louis, when really I just want to see my friends, my home, and my mum and dad. I make excuses to put off chores, when really I just wanna listen to these 2 records. I make excuses to put off calling girls, because I'm just really bashful. But still, all of it gets done. I'm just tired of telling myself I need to make excuses.