Busting glass.

Thanks for the congratulations everybody. I know I could have just written this in a comment to the last post, but I like writing a separate post, because it gives me a chance to ramble, and I know everyone will read it and you get the extra excitement of a brand-new post. It's starting to look like your lucky day. Anyway, I had a great birthday with yummy cake and everything. For New Year's we played cards, had fried rabbit, lit fireworks and shot a gun.

The job will be a linguistic one, but no computers (what a crazy concept). I will be working for a company that helps other companies develop their products, and I will be in charge of naming new flavors and smells and stuff. Like soaps or shaving foam. So when you see a soap called supersonic lava or peppermint crossbow, it might have been me making that up. Anyway, you get the idea. I won't actually talk about my real job on here.

And let me explain my relationship with American football to you: I will watch it, I will root for whichever team I deem appropriate, I will get excited, I will have a good time, I will even attempt my best to talk about it. But I will never be able to love it, like I love soccer. Let me put it this way: American football to me, is like Alfred Matzerath is to Oskar Matzerath in The Tin Drum by Günter Grass. Soccer, however, is Agnes Matzerath and Jan Bronski, or something like that. Maybe even Maria Truczinski. I'm not sure which character would be soccer, maybe I will by the end of the book, but I know for sure that Alfred is American football. The cooking is good, but he's not the real deal, and he married my mistress and claimed my son as his own. And just when you thought it couldn't possibly get any worse, I go and use Nobel Prize-winning literature to make a statement about my professional sports preferences.