i wish there was a picnic table in the middle of my living room.  you know, the thick and sturdy kind they have in parks and outside at bars.  if i had a picnic table in the middle of my living room, my friends and i would sit around it and we would carve words and phrases into the wood with keys and ballpoint pens and pocket knives.  we’d drink vodka tonics and beer, and once in awhile someone would stand up on the table, being careful not to hit their head on the ceiling fan, and dance a jig.  appropriate jig-dancing music would be played, whatever that is.

look at this silly yahoo news headline: Web-Savvy Busboy Allegedly Duped Tycoons.  really, are there still tycoons?  i didn’t think real tycoons had existed since morgan and rockefeller in the twenties and thirties.  you know, they were “giants of industry“, and they’d wear suspenders and put their feet up on long conference tables on the eight hundredth floor of their building, smoking cigars and cackling, hudsucker-style.  i’m convinced we don’t have those anymore.