Monthly Archive for February, 2005

open letter to the federated sandwich makers of the world

Published
by
Alfina the Vague
on February 28, 2005
in Cheese Sandwich, Correspondence and Vintage Imports
. 0 Comments

I know it’s probably been a while since you’ve heard from me.  I should apologize for that–I’ve long been a fan of your work, ever since my first PB&J sometime around 1980.  Even during the lean vegetarian years of 1994-1998, I still made an effort to procure your tasty tasty grilled cheeses and portobellos.

I have loved your work in all its forms, from your pitas, paninis, focaccias, and challas, to the elaborate layers of your clubs, to your simple, unpretentious turkey on wheat.  Oh! Sandwiches, may I never grow weary of your infinite carbtacular varieties!

Unfortunately, my inspiration to write you today, sandwich makers, comes from a very different place.  I have been hard at work all afternoon on a special project of my own.  I am building a scale model of K2 out of coleslaw.  It sits here on my desk beside me as I type.  It’s quite impressive:  it looks just like K2, it really does!

But the reason I write is (and you may suspect this already, you clever chefs!) my spectacular coleslaw masterpiece (my chef d’oeuvre, if you will) is made from coleslaw I removed from the chicken sandwich I ate for lunch!  That’s right! My chargrilled chicken sandwich was approximately 70% coleslaw by volume.

As you are no doubt aware, this constitutes an egregious violation of the Shredded Lettuce and Cabbage Act of 1985, Coleslaw Subsection B.   The ruling against shredded lettuce and cabbage products was clear, and all parties were in agreement.  These substances provide neither nutritional nor gustatory benefit, and merely fuction to make the sandwich unbearably messy.

In the case of cabbage products, especially coleslaw, the ruling is very strict–cabbage is never to come into contact with any sandwich item whatsoever, especially not barbeque or barbeque related products.  For this reason I felt obliged to inform your federation of this violation which took place today at approximately 12:45 pm at the sandwich hut on the corner outside my office building.

I am attaching the coleslaw K2 as evidence.  I suggest you whittle a carrot model of Picabo Street and have her ski down the mountain.  Once you have eked out all the enjoyment you can, please see to it that you discipline the sandwich hut guy as severely as possible within the bounds of Sandwich law, that I may ever remain

Your Loyal Fan,

Vague

bank unconcerned with art, employee incredulous

Published
by
Alfina the Vague
on February 26, 2005
in Academia
. 7 Comments

My "real" job at Chowderhead University is all about the words.  That’s what I like: me and my words, we real tight.  My "pretend" job at Asshats Federal Credit Union, is, let’s say, slightly less concerned with artful expression.  Having survived my statistics review today, which I can only assume was some sort of miracle which I’ll have to repay to the universe at some later date, I have decided to bring the numbers game to Zembla.  So here, Lieblings, is my day in numbers:

  • Calls at the Stupid Bank which were secretly monitored: 3
  • Pieces of uncovered, day-old, unrefrigerated  office birthday cake accidentally eaten: 1
  • Showers taken: 0
  • Days running wearing same clothes: 2
  • Hours slept: unsure
  • Cups of coffee consumed: 0
  • Clinically insane Guamanians conversed with: 243,571
  • Would-be fraudsters thwarted with my mad detective skills: 1
  • Pages written: 0
  • Glasses of wine (finally!) consumed: 1 in progress
  • Advisability of fucking with me today: 0

open letter to crazy

Published
by
Alfina the Vague
on February 25, 2005
in Academia, Correspondence and Paedagogy
. 1 Comment

Hey Crazy,

What’s up?  So, if you’re wondering why I am writing, it’s because I just wanted to get a little long-distance preview before I have to see you in class.  Just a little heads-up, you know, so I can prepare myself. 

Every Tuesday and Thursday, I spend half of my lesson planning time trying to preempt your  insanity.  "What will it be today?" I ask myself,  "Just another mundane hour of non-sequitur comments, or a Full-Blown Freak Out?"

My favorite bit is when you commence the inhuman nazgul screeching.  It’s like poetry come to life.   It makes all those completely irrelevant things you say sound so much more authoritative.  Seriously, though, could you just stop with the damned screeching already? Thanks.

So anyways, if you could just try to give me a little advance notice before your next public meltdown, I’ll remember to bring in some tissues, earplugs, quaaludes, whatever.  Otherwise I am going to go all Lloyd Dobbler on yo’ ass.  "You must chill.  I have hidden your keys.  You must chill." 

See you next Tuesday.  I’ll be the one with the person-sized butterfly net.

Vague

i am not part of the solution

Published
by
Alfina the Vague
on February 21, 2005
in Academia, Books and Paedagogy
. 13 Comments

It’s that time of year again.  Proposals for next year’s courses are due in the department office tomorrow.  Because I take paedagogy very, very seriously (as I’m sure you all know by now), I have put a lot of thought into this.  I need to have some very clear goals in mind while designing the courses–to know exactly what it is I hope the students will learn by the end of each term.   None of this weak, fluffy, blather about finding yourself and challenging your opinions.  Nonsense!  I have some practical, specific, worthwhile objectives laid out below:

Fall Term:  Punctuation 101, a.k.a. "It’s = It Is"

That’s probably all we’ll have time for.  We’ll discuss it for ten weeks, but you’ll still fuck it up in your paper.

Winter Term:  Introduction to Modern Fiction.

In this course, you’ll be learning the essential characteristics of the major novelists of the 20th Century, such as the following:

Proust: Writes big, heavy books in French. Is obsessed with whether or not his girlfriend is a lesbian. You won’t like him.

Faulkner: Writes long, convoluted sentences about incestuous rednecks in Mississippi.   Also was an alcoholic.  This may impress you, you keg-standing , forty-swilling, bourbon-smelling, sweaty lummox.

Woolf: Crazy British broad.  Killed herself.  This will provoke you to ask whether or not she might have been a "lesbo" and comment on the "fine line between genius and insanity."  This will not impress me.

Joyce: See Proust (substitute "mangled English" for "French").  You will write a paper on Ulysses without having read it.  I will be fooled.

Kafka:  Whacked out German who wrote some crazy shit about a man turning into a dungbeetle.  You will like this, but will not be able to explain coherently why.  This is because you will be stoned in class, you shameless, fetid hippie.

Spring Term:  Pretend We Have Any Remaining Interest in Literature At All

This course will focus on convincing your instructor not to throw herself in front of a bus.  In class we will sit quietly with our heads on our desks.  Students will try to remain still so as not to disturb the instructor’s headache.  Any student in violation of this policy will be asked to leave and sent down to the anarchist district to find me a valium.

once you get locked into a serious drug collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can

Published
by
Alfina the Vague
on February 20, 2005
in Academia, Books and Food and Drink
. 9 Comments

Hunter S. Thompson apparently decided to go with plan B.

I suppose I will be forced to carry on my crusade for Gonzo literary criticism on my own.