I Want

A very bad cat inspired this particular post with a similar post a few days ago, detailing a bunch of things that she wanted that, in an ideal world, she could have.

Well, here's what I want.

I want:

* To be referred to as "The Supreme Leader."

For real-- how fucking twee would that be? I don't necessarily want to be the Supreme Leader of Iraq, and I don't want to walk around dressed in a muu-muu or have a white beard down to my nippitynoos either, but I'd like to be the Supreme Leader of... something. I don't really care what. I work at a non-profit, and I'm referred to as "Program Specialist" or "Project Manager" according to whatever task I'm working on, but neither of these titles really carry the same punch as "Supreme Leader." I would like that to be on my door at work. I would like it to be in the signature line of my emails. I would like to appear in peoples' cell phone contact lists as "Supreme Leader." And the people who have voice-activated dialing would sound so fucking cool as they hold their cellphone to their lips and command it to, "Call Supreme Leader." And the automatic voice of the cellphone would be all like, "Call Stevie Beater?"

* To learn a 6th chord for the banjo.

I'm kind of stymied. You know? I've got G, D7, C, E, D and that's really kind of about it. With some prodding from Mrs. Apron, I can sometimes figure out A, but it's never very comfortable. I've had the thing since Thanksgiving and in that time I've taught myself that much, and I can play a handful of folk songs that only require three chords. I can't figure out if that's laudable or pathetic.

* Lots of cars.

I fucking love cars. From the time I was sixteen to today, I owned lots of cars. Here's a list:

1966 Volkswagen Beetle

1990 Ford Crown Victoria

1989 Volvo 240 DL

1994 Ford Taurus

1997 Ford Crown Victoria

2001 Chevrolet Impala

2001 Volkswagen New Beetle

2005 Ford Focus

When my wife acquires her Honda Fit, I will become the owner of my 9th car, her 2001 Chrysler PT Cruiser.

And I ain't anywhere near done yet either. I want lots more cars. Give them to me. Give me your fucking car. Whatever it is, I want it. Unless it's a Pontiac.

* To feel better.

Right now, my throat is sore, I have a fever, there's gunk in my chest and I have post-nasal drip and I feel like I've felt pretty much this way for the last three months. I just want a stretch of, say, seven weeks or so where I feel fine-- where I can breathe correctly and not have a mixture of sponge and lead in my sinuses. Is that too much to ask? No, I don't think so.

* To go gray quickly.

I have probably close to twenty gray hairs in my head-- maybe more, maybe fewer, I don't really know. But I'm growing very weary of the maple-syrup-like pacing of this particular aging component. Can we just get it the fuck over with please? I'd love it if I woke up tomorrow morning and I looked like Steve Martin. That would really be just fine with me. Watching yourself age slowly is unpleasant. You're never sure if it's really happening or not. I'd like to be sure.

* A fucking maid.

Our house is a goddamn mess. Will you please clean it up for us? I promise not to sexually harrass you. I'll just stare at you a lot.

* To be fluent in another language.

I love talking shit about people, but I often am not as careful about it as I should be. Fluency in a foreign language would be just what I need to cloak my venomous barbs. Of course, I would need a select group of other people to also be fluent in whatever language this might be, so they could understand my jests and respond with the appropriate laughter. This would have to be a different language, of course, from whatever the maid speaks. I wouldn't want her to be able to hear me joke about her teeth and tits.

* To eat bad things and never have to worry about it.

If I wasn't so scared of premature demise, I would eat bacon, eggs, sausage & hash browns for breakfast every single morning, a corned beef special every single day for lunch, and some sort of marinated meat dish every single night at dinner. I haven't gained a single pound in a decade, so weight's not my concern. Yet. It's my arteries, and I would like to keep them at least semi-elastic for as long as possible.

* To be able to understand others who are fluent in other languages.

A few days ago, there were these two Russian bitches in back of me at the supermarket and I just know they were talking shit about me...