Sept. 20

Tuesday

So Calendar has long been considered royalty in certain discerning social circles-namely, those discerning social circles that we fabricate in our minds, then populate with little toy dolls and teacups. Those dolls love our ass.

But, here’s the thing: Calendar has never really exploited our position of royalty to its fullest extent.

Sure, we’ve slept with stable hands, employed a bevy of servants and demanded, on occasion, that even our tiniest of meal be served on a silver platter and garnished with rosemary and thyme, but, really, who hasn’t?

Now, as King Calendar, we are setting about our duties with the most sincere of wills and most earnest of desires.

The following are Calendar’s 10 Official Proclamations, which may or may not be interpreted as commandments (for fear of copyright infringement…on God), for the day of Tues, in the City of Salt, in the land of ‘Tah:

1) That all Calendars be made into golden statues.

2) That all golden Calendars be then melted and used to pay this Calendar’s royal tithing, which is quite demanding.

3) That all individuals go see Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings at the Velvet Room (155 W. 200 South) at 7 p.m. Tickets at the door.

4) That all land-owning individuals eat tapioca pudding until they vomit and/or until there is not more tapioca pudding in the world. Probably the former, but you never know…

5) That all Calendar-fearing individuals go to church and pray for this Calendar’s salvation, and, if there is time, their own.

6) That Christopher Whipple drink his weight in booze…oh, yeah, sorry. That already happened.

7) That all chickens be not plucked prior to consumption. Repeat: Do not eat plucked chickens! Or, you know, whatever.

8) That all pimpin’ in the land of the Calendar be done on the D.L.

9) That all individuals go see LTJ Bukem spin tonight at W Lounge (358 S. West Temple) at 10 p.m. Tickets: 24Tix.com.

10) That all Calendars composed entirely of arbitrary proclamations be not disregarded, but rather raised on high, lauded, applauded and regarded for the brilliance…oh, who the hell are we kidding? But we were serious about that chicken stuff. And the pimpin’ on the D.L. That’s how real Calendars do it.

Until tomorrow…when more stuff is happening…we freakin’ hope…and life will be easier for everybody, by which we mean us. Your life may still be hard. We’re sorry, sorta.