As I sit here once again behind my desk at a major media company, my injured
right knee emits a dull throb as it has for the last 8 days. I pray for relief
and it comes in the form of a
Winnie-the-Pooh jigsaw puzzle. I
attached as a link not a picture of the puzzle, which depicts a hungry and
desperate Winnie attempting to knock down a bees’ nest as angry bees circle the
hive, but rather a black and white picture of Winnie. I implore you to gaze
longingly at his rotund form. Color him. Do not be afraid.
My friend Jackie dressed as Winnie-the-Pooh last year for Halloween. I have the picture on the wall of my office. Halloween is my favorite of all holidays. It is both festive and haunting, spooky yet bacchanalian. I had a party at my spacious 3 bedroom Upper West Side apartment for last Halloween. Camile Paglia attended. I was, however, confounded by her costume. She came completely naked with but a lemon tied around her waist, explaining that she was a "Sour Puss." I mean no offense. Camile Paglia is a dear friend of mine. She delighted my partygoers with her delicious impersonation of William F. Buckley Jr. She is a splendid and marvelous woman.
I sit here and ponder my future at this major media company. I know it will not be long before I grab someone by their fat oppressor head and scream, "I will not continue to be transgendered by your evil hate company. I will collect my things and leave as soon as I receive my check for unpaid vacation days." It will not bother them, for I am just a meaningless cog in their poorly oiled machine, not to mention that they probably will not know who I am. Press on, major media company, and watch your stock continue to plummet. It will not be long, friends, the revolution is nigh.
And no one’s getting fat, except Mama Cass. And Winnie-the-Pooh.