In my office building the other day, I looked up at the you-have-no-option-but-to-stare-mindlessly-at-me-news clips screen in the elevator and felt exceedingly empty. No, it’s not because I’m Australian. I felt empty for Captivision, the editor/information-gathering Oompa Loompas who feed Captivision its steady dose of malarkey, mostly for the Australian people.
This can mean only one of two things: the Aussies are that bleedin’ funny or they’re that farkin’ stupid. Either way, if this is the biggest news out of Australia since the Bucks drafted Andrew Bogut, which was the biggest news since Yahoo Serious had a run at some fame, then I’m pretty sure I could absolutely dominate the continent. It is a continent, right?
This is how that conversation would have gone down if I was the H.N.I.C.*:
“O.K., so we have $100,000 to fund a study, what’s on tap?”
“Well, the Institute wants to look into whether people with full-time desk jobs are more likely to be overweight than people who work but move around all day because they aren’t behind desks.”
“You’re fucking kidding me, right? No? Then you’re fired”
I would then promptly instruct the next study to investigate how exact McDonald’s is in its allocation of Chicken McNuggets. I mean they issue how many McNuggets a day? Billions I’d imagine, so how many times do they over- or under-deliver? Now that would be news, goddammit.
See how easy that would have been? Damn efficient too. I would have saved them a bunch of money. Isn’t it such an obvious fact that sitting behind a desk all day, without constant access to heroin but plenty of access to a computer is pretty much going to make you a fat bastard? I’m the perfect example. My day consists of the following:
9:15 a.m.: eat bagel
9:15-10:45: check fantasy scores and IM with friends
10:45-12:00: think about lunch
12-1:30: eat lunch, get fat
1:30-3:30: get work done
3:30-5:30: search for useless things on the Internet and think about dinner
Notice that nowhere in that log of my workday is there an entry for “run a couple of miles” or “dance on the giant hamster wheel installed in my cube”. The difference between me and the Aussies I guess is that I don’t try and fight the gluttony, I embrace it like a good fat bastard. Prove it? I write for Y.P.R.m don’t I? When do you think that gets done? No, you silly bastards, not when I’m at home—I watch TV then.
Well, I’m off; I have to go search for some more Australian news before I start thinking of dinner. I have this unusual craving for dingo for some reason. Anybody know where I can get some that won’t take much effort?
* Head Nick in Charge.