By Atlas Al
Ms. Youngblood Captures New Flag
I came home from work yesterday, tired and hungry. Shoes and jacket off, keys thrown on the table, I fell to the couch to have a short chat with flatmates and friends. With beaming, competitive eyes aimed directly at me, Ms. Youngblood said, “Cuban flag, last night.”
No comment.
“Met on the dance floor at that Latin club. Standard age, late 20s.”
Reluctantly, I gave her a deserved high-five. I was proud of her. I always am when one of my fellow flaggers gets a new flag. And Cuba! Not many people have that one because you don’t meet many Cubans outside of Cuba (Florida being the exception).
Not my last shag, but my last flag, was a while ago. This is flat-out unacceptable. Ms. Youngblood and Dr. Rim are capturing flags; what’s going on with Atlas Al? I’m surrounded by millions of Norwegians, among other foreign flags here in Oslo, yet still nothing. I suppose the downside of having a lot of flags is that it’s harder to get new ones; chances of getting repeat flags are greater. Repeat flags aren’t bad—like classic re-run TV shows; however, I prefer the newer, never-before-seen ones.
Flagging Drought
According to Merriam-Webster, a drought is, “A period of dryness especially when prolonged; specifically: one that causes extensive damage to crops or prevents their successful growth.” You don’t have to tell me I’m fucked. Dr. Rim has even started to call me Rusty! Keep in mind, especially you Dr. Rim: we all go through a drought at one point in our lives.
Drought is to Flagging Drought, as Crops are to Sperm, and it seems as though my crops are withering away. Efforts must be doubled to combat this recent dry spell. A new flag would boost my confidence and ego. It will happen. I’m not worried about when, just whether it’s sooner or later.
History and science has told us that ice ages come and go. Partner may be a bit frostbitten at the moment, but he shall thaw. Similarly, droughts don’t last forever. Like the cliché says: when it rains, it pours. Wait, can you hear that, off in the distance…
A storm is a comin’.
