The Wee Democracy

a question posed

today is an associate's extra discount day - which means i tack on an extra 10% to my discount. with that saved money should i buy?

a pair of jeans that clearly fit, or a pair of jeans that sorta fit, but crush my cash and prizes, but look far better?

sunglasses as my poor old killer loops are scratched almost to the point of zero visibility?

a t-shirt that says "open 25 hours" since i like the 25th hour nostalgia it generates?

bulgari pour homme cologne, since it smells good on paper, but unknown on me?

please, tell me, people



feeling: torn, like solomon's baby
thinking of: batman
song of the day: perfect day - lou reed
i thought i was someone else, someone good

strangers

strangers have immense power, sometimes, when you think about it. take today for example. i was riding the bus to work, and there was a middle aged black lady handing out religious tracts. she started from the back of the bus, moving forward, where i sat. now, while she was making her way up the bus, i had to think quickly, to figure out the best way to decline her offer. did i want to be polite, but make it known that organized religion and i clash, a bit like the IRA and the english? did i want to ignore her?

i got plenty of practice at waving off the religious zealots that lined the cross walk between UT campus and the drag, which i had to frequent on my way to and from school. yes, i know its fully unfair of me to lump all missionary type religious folk into the category of "zealots" but i do. anyways, i used to imagine and savor the taunting of these poor saps, as i saw them. mainly i just said no thanks, but i always wanted to torment them.

beside the point. this lady on the bus offered me a tract, and i said, "excuse me?", cause i had my headphones on. she says "do you speak english?" a legitimate question in the 'hood. i said, yeah, but no thank you, sorry, i didn't want one. "don't be sorry," she says, and smiles a sweet grandma smile. i immediately wanted to leap out of my seat and hug this woman, apologize profusely and take one of her tracts, sit next to her the rest of the way to downtown, and listen to her.

this is what i mean by the power of strangers. you can be in a blah mood and the kind smile of a lady on the bus can turn it around.

but it works the other way too. you can be trying to instant message one of your friends, and instead get her asshole boyfriend and get into it with him. and he can ruin your day, quite easily, too. and you can be out a lamp.

obviously, there is more to this story, but i figure i'm tired of telling it.




feeling: worried for my lamp
thinking of: bussing to austin.
song of the day: pea - red hot chili peppers
i'm a pacifist...so i can fuck your shit up, oh yeah.

the 80's

i was watching my morning cartoons today, before i went to work, and i was reminded of some key products, shows, and ideas of the 80's, the decade which welcomed me.

1 - uncle jesse had a band called jesse and the rippers; you remember that shit? seriously, how the hell did full house stay on the air as long as it did?

2 - simon - that color game? the little round game thingie, that lit up and beeped, and you had to remember the pattern, and repeat it? yeah, i broke mine. buzz at me, will you? fuck you, simon!!

3 - the batman soundtrack that was done by...you guessed it, prince. dude, how lame was that thing? i can't believe prince is forever linked with batman.

4 - skip it - another 80's game i sucked it. "and the very best thing of all...there's a counter on the ball. try to beat your very best score, see if you can jump a whole lot more! just skip it! skip it!" fuck you, too, skip it. jamie had one that was infamously broken....infamously.

5 - u.s. acres - remember that little cartoon show that played second fiddle to garfield in the show that went by "garfield and friends"? it was called u.s. acres, and starred a fat little pig name orson. that show rocked.

6 - He MAN, duh duh dadadaDUH! duhduhduuuuuh...DA DUM!! how hot was teela? and orko? someone had to be dropping acid when they created that little weirdo. anyways, i think he-man was really a show about sublimated S/M. think about the costumes -- loin clothes, german crosses, leather, swords (phalli). anyways, that's what i think. either way, the toys that went along with it were awesome.

7 - the great outdoors, uncle buck, the boy who could fly - all movies that i probably watched with my sister and step sister like a zillion times. "you ever hear of a tune up?" "you ever hear of a ritual killing?" "what?" "gnaw at her face like that in public again and you'll be one"

8 - kris kross - ok, i admit it. i had some singles of theirs. jump, i missed the bus, etc. i mean, who didn't experiment with wearing their clothes backwards? liars.

9 - super mario bros. 2 - speaking of taking acid while creating something....i had nightmares about some of those fuckers. especially that androgynous freakshow that spat eggs at you.

10 - pee wee's big adventure - tim burton's undisputed masterpiece. and the film i gave most credit to for my unwavering fear of clowns. perhaps the most disturbing kids movie of the decade.



feeling: nostalgic...and a little afraid
thinking of: buying 'simon' on ebay
song of the day: bust a move - young mc
she's dressed in yellow, she says hello, come sit next to me, you fine fellow. you run over there without a second to lose, and what comes next, hey, bust a move

eternal sunshine of the joshless mind

i went to the movies this afternoon, and saw eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, which was pretty fucking good. it helps that i'm in love with kate winslet, and that charlie kaufman wrote it, but besides that, there's just some real beauty to it. and the romantic parts are so sweet and honest. which, of course, depresses me.

i also saw a trailer for this movie called 'garden state' that was actually written and directed by JD from scrubs. it looked pretty good, really, and it had this really kickass song, which i've discovered is by a lady named imogene heap, aka, frou frou. its the song of the day, so if you want to give a nice fuck you to the record companies, download it.

sometimes, i don't mind going to the movies by myself. it's a common occurence, really, but i'd like to have a buddy. anyone interested?

today, i got the distinct impression, though, that i was being judged by a group of, i think, college kids....hooligans, really. i was trying to peacefully read the snows of kilimanjaro there, before the coming attractions...um, came, but their annoying and oh-so-smug banter was proving an insurmountable distraction from my book.

so i figured, why not write down what they're saying, and reprint the more embarassing details here. the one who stood out as the most annoying of the hellish triplets was a short lass, went by deborah.

evidently, deborah has a problem with people demeaning her stature, as is often called 'midget' by her cohorts, which usually results in a violent outburts, if today's excerpt from her life is any indicator. as one of her friends stated, after being given "two for flinching", apparently one of deborah's fav pastimes, "she's deborah...she makes good on threats like that". i'm guessing this proclivity for violence is what has lead to deborah's being admittedly single. she also laughs, it would seem, almost non stop, and has, i deduced, a problem with walking into drama and being unable to dodge the shit piles that club life can deal you, and thusly, refuses to attend clubs anymore. this, i believe, is a lie.

despite her status as an available, if not maddeningly giggly, young lady, she had been interested, i discovered, in a well dressed and quite handsome -- "freakin' hot" was the term, i believe, she used to describe this suave on the outside, cholo on the inside fella -- hispanic dude that went by alfredo. the factor that had sealed the deal on the attraction to alfredo was that he wore converse. lame, if you ask me, and certainly not a deal maker in the sexual sphere.

they lived in the same building, alfredo one floor below deborah, but never met, and the near silent courtship continued for a while, alfredo seeming to render deborah speechless with his good looks. tragically, in a decidedly humorous way for me, alfredo talked like a thug, and behaved like one, too. end of story.

so ends the tale of deborah and the failed beginnings of the deborah-alfredo era. fuck 'em anyway. she looked boring as hell, man.



feeling: mad.
thinking of: getting the fuck out of this city
song of the day: let go - frou frou
it's alright, cause there's beauty in the breakdown

back by popular demand

i got an email from my sister saying that she only reads one blog, and essentially, i needed to get back to work. i have been working, you see - to make some extra scratch for when tessa comes back to the US. i've worked the last six days, trying to rake in the dough, and, sad to say, the blog has suffered. i've not come up with a single subject that i can rant on about for several paragraphs, but rather a bunch of little things.

little thing 1 - i smell like burberry now, and i must say, i rock the casbah.

thing 2 - i've gathered a small group of three now, to see josh ritter at stubbs next month, and that will be, as the french say, killer.

sub thing 2 - the show will be part and parcel with the already planned out day of the 13th. i bus into austin and immediately begin drinking, my plan is to waste the entire day in an alchol induced semi-stupor. mark and i hang out, and go to best buy, where kill bill vol. 1 is bought, and subsequently watched, with rapture and, yes, more beer. the day is spent uselessly, before adjourning to stubbs to begin chapter the second on the day. we see ritter, and then, before calling it a night, excuse ourselves to sugar's....good times....good...times!

thing 3 - i had two cinnamon rolls last night, as a goodbye party to my recent carb binge. today, i have diligently returned to the carnivore's paradise that is atkins.

thing 4 - i recently re-read american psycho, and was amazed at just how fucked up the novel is. certainly worth reading, and definitely in possession of some sickly funny parts. but the violence...good lord, the imagery is more horrifying than anything i've ever seen in the movies. even the passion. as part of my new found respect for the book, i went to target and bought the dvd for a measly ten bucks! a steal, right? anyways, its a really good movie, too, and you should see it, but the sickness of the movie pales...PALES, i say, in comparison to the book. but i have a crush on chloe sevigny, so alls forgiven.

thing 5 - lisa drove to galveston on a whim the other night, and sat on the beach to think. good for her. i wish i had a car and the proximity to do that. then she bitched about how i never mention her in the blog. here, see? i mention you/her!!

thing 6 - the apprentice comes on tonight, and someone is getting the cobra hand!

sub thing 6 - the OC was on last night, and 24 returns next week. it's been a hard, rough, three weeks.

thing 7 - i've started listening to norah jones some more lately. she's cool. i like the fact that she's not a stick figure. it makes her infinitely more sexy, along with that voice. she's from dallas. maybe i'll date her

thing 8 - i've started making friends with the dog from next door, named dioji - i didn't name him, but it suits him. he's a funny dog, and cute as a button. it's hard, though, cause interacting with him reminds me how much i miss sam. *sigh*

thing 9 - dallas sucks, on the whole.

i guess that's it for now. i want to go to NY.



feeling: a little bit free
thinking of: what color IS my parachute??
song of the day: sunrise - norah jones
no lyric, just that vocal 'ooo' thing she does. its bad-a

i visit the library

based mainly upon the frequent browbeatings and guilt trips regarding my lackadaisical attitude toward real work, i made a short little venture to the local branch of my city's public library system yesterday. now, one might think that a library consists of a place filled to the rafters with lovely, lovely books. but oh, no, not this dump. this place, i shit you not, has about the same amount of books that my elementary school library did.

now, some might also say, why, josh? why go to the library in your halfassed quest to find reasonably gainful employment? well, i think it goes back to my habit of knowing the basic theories behind doing something, without having any practical skill, whatsoever. i mean, look at my dating history. if i could stop tripping over myself and sweating profusely, i'd be one smooth operator.

anywho, back to library. i go, and immediately, i'm drawn away from the measly shelf regarding the economy and job hunting to the adjacent wall filled with what the french call, literature. i mean, i'd rather read fun books than boring books. so? who wouldn't? i browse through the section for a few minutes, laughing then scowling at the fact that they've got like 15 copies of the old man and the sea, but not one of a moveable feast, or the snows of kilamanjaro. i try to find the divine comedy, the once idle interest in reading it, now seeming immense and irresistable. i find it, and hold onto it.

not being able to find the one book my mom demands that i read, i attempt to look it up on the computer, but evidently, you need a library card to do that. i go to the counter to get one, a slight sensation of fear, taversing up my spine, fearing the discovery of an outrageous fine i incurred when i made it on the the dallas library system's shit list some...15 years ago, when i did some research on volcanoes. or is it volcanos? who knows.

but, fortunately, i am a mystery to them, and i get my card, no questions asked. i also register to vote. upon being carded, i go back to the other librarian, who told me to get the card in the first place, and she tells me where i can find this book. she then, in a hushed tone, asks me if i'm familiar with the dewey decimal system. i laugh, and she laughs and says, well, some people here aren't. i thank her, find my book, and walk back through the lit section once again, to satiate my desires.

so i ended up with three books on job finding tactics, and the divine comedy. guess which one i really first?

oh yeah, did you know you can register to vote at the library? i didn't! it rocks.



PS. josh ritter is playing the gypsy tea room on 4/12 -- does anyone want to go with me? tix are 8 bones.

feeling: like a man with a new library card......easy money, baby
thinking of: buying burberry of london cologne.
song of the day: lawrence, ks - josh ritter
some prophecies are self fulfilling...i've had to work for all of mine

shifts in allegiance

after high school, you change. you get to college, and sometimes, before you know what you've done, you've changed a part of you that you thought would always be the same. all of a sudden, you're exposed to all kinds of diversity, people from different socio-economic backgrounds, from different countries, people who like journey. they introduce you to things, and you show them what you like. you share different ideas, when before, hell, you didn't even know that so many people believed in something else.

it began for me, on the friday at the end of spring break. i went to the mall with friends bryan and brett. i had to get something, and i could only get it in one place. i'm talking, of course, about briefs. i enjoyed the comforts of towncraft underwear, a brand which can only be found at JC Penney. i went, bought a 3-pack, and took it home. the next day, i broke out a pair, only to discover *gasp* horror upon horrors! i had bought a 3 pack of....boxer briefs!!!

my boys were used to support, and the ethos of the boxer brief was foreign to me, like when you go on vacation, and you see that NBC is on channel 7 instead of channel 5. but, if i have a clean pair of underwear, regardless of style, i'm going to use it. and behold! i grew accustomed to them. they gave me the support of briefs, and the non-constrictiveness of boxers.

but the winds of change blew again in the recent past.

last summer, i started dating this girl, and i was like, hmm....tightie-whities, regardless of cut, are just not kosher. so i bought a couple pairs of cotton jockey boxers. they were ok. i liked them, and when i did the wash, they were the first pair i broke out of the basket.

then...yesterday....i fully switched sides. i bought two more pairs, and plan on buying even more. now, i'm not going to shift sides over night. boxers are expensive at times, and if i have to wear my old undies to avoid doing that sysyphan chore that is laundry, i will.

but for now -- boxers are good.



feeling: freedom!
thinking of: the gorilla - a fucking gorilla escaped from the dallas zoo....how awesome
song of the day: just a friend - biz markie
oh baby you, you got what i neeeeeeeeeeed, but you say he's just a friend, but you say he's just a friend!

crappiness and awesomeness

monday was the ides of march, and truly, it blew.

i missed my bus, not once, but twice. and this is after years of bus riding, and maybe only having to run for it a couple, two three times. so in one day, i do what it's taken me 4 years of on-again-off-again DART patronage to do the first time.

THEN while i was downtown, i found myself in the worst toilet in all of north texas. g.r.o.d.y.

THEN i had to deal with a stereotypical cowboy-made-good who came into the story, flashing me his ring and money clip and demanded that i explain why the ladies in the jewelry section would not serve someone "who has pocketfuls cash". i suggested that i certainly did not know, but if i wanted me to have some of that nice cash, i wouldn't argue. he laughed. i guess he thought i was kidding.

all in all it was a crapfest of a day.

but then today, all that came full circle.

i slept nice and peacefully.

tessa is coming back to the states and we are going to get some quality hang out time, either here in dallas, or down in austin. either way, i'm drinking...alot

THEN, i got to wait on this dangerously cute girl at the store, wanting to buy cologne. and later on, i bought myself some new comfy underwear.

THEN, my sopranos tape came. smoot tapes the sopranos for me, since i don't have HBO, and mails me the tape every other week. it came. i exploded. victory...

victory.




feeling: like watching the sopranos, mofo
thinking of: my new underwear i bought
song of the day: such great heights - the postal service
they will see us waving from such great heights, "come down now," they'll say. but everything looks perfect from far away, "come down now," but we'll stay...

ghost stories

man, there is nothing i love more than a good ghost story, especially the ones purported by close friends and relatives to be a matter of the unvarnished truth. it's fun, whenever anyone brings up ghost, someone's always got a story. and it's one of those topics that allows people to tell some story that's usually beefed up a bit, with no admittance, though, but no one cares. the more spooky and wholly unbelievable it is, the better.

i remember this one time, my friend patrick and i went to walmart late at night. we were bored as hell, and it was the night before we were both going home for thanksgiving break. going to walmart in the middle of the night was always a fun trip. on the way there, we heard that song "love rollercoaster". i don't know at what point it is in the song, but there's a scream. and i don't mean one of those musicy screams that people do at concerts or whatever. i mean a full throated motherfucker that really just sounds...scary. and patrick told me that the rumor went, a woman was murdered down the hall from the recording studio. not true, of course, but it sure sounds freaky as hell.

it didn't stop there, oh no. no, dumbasses that we are, decided, like many a dumbass on a camping trip, to proceed in a mini marathon of ghost stories and urban legend telling. none of that "my roommate was murdered and a message was written on the wall" shit. nah, this was little known mexican legends, la llarona. now, if you don't know who la llarona is, look her up. shit is scaaaaary.

we told each other scary dreams we had, stories that had been passed down from our aunts and uncles. we scared the crap out of ourselves. all the way to walmart and back, we did this. and patrick had to park waaaaaay the fuck away from the dorm. it was like, 3 in the morning, and campus was a fuckin' ghost town anyway, let alone the time of night.

we passed a bronze statue of a horse, and i swear to god....i heard that bastard neigh. that's how strong the power of suggestion was that time.

fuck, i'm not gonna be able to sleep tonight.

so, if you've got a killer ghost story, let me hear it: weedemocracy@yahoo.com



feeling: scared...goddammit!
thinking of: watching a comedy while i fall asleep
song of the day: what else? love rollercoaster by the ohio players

find a happy place

i got an email from my sister the other day, which was the first time she's actively commented on my blog. earlier this year, in one of her many "when you come to NY" suggestions, she thought i might want to speak at an open mic night thing at this poetry club. anyways, she said that she liked the positive nature of that list of things that i love.

i should probably try to write about more happy things more often. i know i tend to go off the deep end sometimes bitching and moaning about unimportant shit, but it's hard not to. that whole self pity thing has a pretty strong allure that i'm not always capable of overcoming. but i think i shall make more of an effort.

on that note, it is sunday morning. i like sunday mornings alot, especially when i don't have to work (i work two sundays for every one that i have off). it's early enough in the day to enjoy the quietness of your surroundings, go through the big fat paper, look at what movies and music are on sale at best buy, see what's on tv for the rest of the week, etc. it's fun.

sunday mornings are typically the only time you can get my mom out of the house for the sole purpose of movie-going. i haven't seen a new one since the passion, which wouldn't be all that bad, if i worked more than 4 days a week. i think even if i become a teacher, i'll still try to go to movies with an astonishing regularity.

now, a little rain must fall in each entry, so i'll say this. i miss sundays back in the old apartment. i miss working with friends, coming home, cooking dinner, watching the sunday night line-up on HBO. sex and the city...the sopranos....curb your enthusiasm. all greatness. thems was the days.

i dunno what's on the docket for today, but laundry sure as hell should be. maybe starsky and hutch, too. i could use a few yuks.



feeling: not sure if i should be up yet
thinking of: am i supposed to be a a man? am i supposed to say "it's ok! i don't mind! i don't mind!" well, i mind! i mind big time!! and you know what the worst part is?? I NEVER LEARNED TO READ!!
song of the day: ballroom blitz - sweet
now the man in the back is ready to crack as he raises his hands to the sky. and the girl in the corner is everyone's mourner, she could kill you with a wink of her eye

portrait of a josh as a young teacher

it began a few weeks ago, when i was unexpectedly accosted by a co-worker as we rode the train to our midtown destination. nancy was her name. since then, i've wanted to crawl back into my shell and tell her that i appreciate what she's doing, but she needs to back off.

what she was trying to do was to get me to change my life. i've written about it before, so you know -- i'm phobic when it comes to making life changing decisions. applying to college, finding a place to live, deciding on grad school, taking a job offer, or not, all of these things have been tortuous processes further complicated by my penchant for procrastination. usually, decisions get made by default, rather than deduction. it's a fault, i know.

we stood there on the train platform, and i revealed that i had not only gone to college, but graduated. she looked at me, stunned, and asked with the same disbelief usually found only in children upon the revelation of the truth about santa claus why the hell i was working at the store? i told her i was just passing time, she said i shouldn't be just passing time. i said i have a degree in english....companies aren't exactly beating a path to my door to hire me. she said, so quickly i had no time to come up with a decent excuse, why don't i teach?

she said, imagine what you could do making three times the money you make now, not working during the summer, having weekends off, using my education. imagine having my own car, my own place, being an adult. imagine having job security, insurance, pride. there wasn't anything i could do to argue with her. this all began on february 10.

since then, i've hemmed and hawed and gone slowly about the business of investigation into the program. i always had a response when nancy interrogated me about what i was doing, but the deadline to turn in the application was today. on monday, i was thinking, i don't want to do this. i don't want to spend 120 bucks to get all the stuff done that i need to get done. i don't want to take another standardized test, and still maybe not get into the program. then i was thinking, god, nancy's gonna see me and ask me what i'm doing, and what am i gonna say? that's what made me think, god, she needs to mind her business! she needs to leave me alone! my life is not her concern!

but then i thought -- what do i have to lose? 120 bucks? shit, i'll blow that on one night in a titty bar. and the TASP test? i took the GRE in november, i can handle this. and not making it into the program? well, if i didn't apply i sure as shit wouldn't make it into the program, and i'd still be working for 7 bucks an hour at a department store. so, tuesday i printed what i needed to print, wednesday i ordered what i needed to order, thursday i bought what i needed to buy, registered for the test, and today, i proudly turned in my little packet. i applied to start the process of becoming a teacher. isn't that fucked up??

but i'm excited about it. yesterday i watched me some sex and the city, season three, and made a list that serves as a preliminary syllabus of my idealistic first year. i'd start them out reading short stuff, to get a sense of several different styles of writing, and themes and all that good stuff.

first month or so we'd read: excerpts from al burian's "burn collector"
flannery o'conner's "parker's back" and "good country people"
joyce carol oates "where are you going, where have you been?"
james baldwin's "sonny's blues"

then we'd start the novels that would hopefully carry us deep into the spring:
david benioff's "the 25th Hour"
mary shelley's "frankenstein"
jd salinger's "nine stories"
ken kesey's "one flew over the cuckoo's nest"
john steinbeck's "of mice and men"
victor hugo's "the hunchback of notre dame"
anthony burgess' "a clockwork orange"
edward albee's play "who's afraid of virginia woolf"
denis johnson's "jesus' son"
and the shakespeare plays "richard III", "hamlet", and "a midsummer night's dream"

wouldn't i rock as an english teacher? yes...yes, i would.



feeling: cautiously hopeful
thinking of: my next interaction with nancy
song of the day: no surprises - radiohead
A heart that’s full up like a landfill, a job that slowly kills you, bruises that won’t heal.

drinking with damon: an account

so there we were, at star seeds, an aptly named little dive off I-35 in austin, waiting for literally hours for mediocre food to arrive. damon, bryan, and i, sat, debating whether or not to leave, and then, after the grub finally arrived from our hygienically challenged waitress, whether or not to walk the check. we paid, but left no tip, perhaps the only time i've participated in that event.

i think, if i remember correctly, bryan was planning on taking damon and i to a party with some of his new friends. anyone who knows me knows that i'm not a party person...not without several drinks in me. so, having recently discovered the virtues of a double shot of tequila prior to leaving the house. damon and i dragged our feet, damon not being a particularly hearty party person, either. a double shot turned into a quadruple shot for me. then i just started drinking it out of a coffee mug.

this wasn't even good tequila -- it was called montezuma, and it came in a large plastic vat. there was maybe a third of the bottle left, so, as i mentioned before, for no other reason than boredom, damon and i set to drinkin'. i hadn't even been drunk before, having not really a taste for liqour prior to actually turning 21.

damon, i suspect was drinking quite a bit less than me, but spurring me on vigorously, nonetheless. and you know, when you're drunk, the one thing that always seems like a good idea is to keep on drinking. we sat on the couch and killed the bottle, watched mimic, debated the pros and cons of the new hollywood era heralded by the release of jaws in '75 and furthered by star wars in '77. i got up from the couch for like the first time in an hour of solid shooting (i think i had like 9ish shots, but keep in mind, they were from a fucking coffee mug, and hence, large) and fell, promptly and flatly on my face.

vomiting ensued. pictures of jimi hendrix popped into my mind, and i pleaded with those around me to make sure i did not die an equally gruesome death. damon asked if i he could stab me with a screwdriver (a question i shall not forget) i could not steady myself enough to vomit into the toilet, and used the tub instead.

most people after a night of heavy drinking wake up to find themselves terribly and achingly hungover. i woke up still completely shitfaced.

all in all, it was a great night. perhaps the second best night in college spent in the company of my friend.




feeling: a little more in control of that which surrounds me
thinking of: how much i love writing
song of the day: cecilia bartoli - sposa son disprezzata

things i love

1 - when a girl sits and crosses her legs, and then dangles her little shoe or flip flop from her toes. that kills me.

2 - a geniune laugh. most people have two kinds of laughs - the fakey one you get for courtesy that sounds perfect but is fraught with tension. but the other one, the genuine one, you feel it coming up from their gut and most of the time, it makes you laugh, too.

3 - the color of the sky and the sun between 5 and 7pm

4 - good movie trailers, the ones where you start smiling halfway through the thing because you feel that anticipation, and you know that it's just gonna be a killer movie. its twice as sweet when you see the movie and it IS killer.

5 - revisiting an album you haven't listened to in a while and discovering a track in the second half that you had previously overlooked or perhaps discounted, and realizing that it rocks.

6 - good hair days

7 - the opening titles of my favorite tv shows. if i'm alone, when the show starts, i may bounce around, kick my feet, and just be generally gleeful, and prone to giggling and high pitched squeals of excitement.

8 - getting a girl's phone number. pretty awesome

9 - great love songs, you know, like something roy orbison would have done. or maybe it's just roy's voice, cause that's pretty goddamn great, too.

10 - really honest moments with friends. good times that are purely good -- regardless of the absence or presence of mind altering substances.

11 - when you have a really cool night -- i love the feeling you get when you think "man, i can't wait to tell this story..."

12 - thinking about cool things in my future, like buying my first house, and imagining how i'll decorate it, and who i'll share it with.

13 - buying new shoes, a new watch, or new sunglasses

14 - reading the sports section the day after a good night for the home teams.

15 - cold pizza for breakfast

16 - doing things that are humorously pathetic, like drinking before noon -- again, it has a good story factor.



feeling: depressed, again
thinking of: what is the deal with people getting married these days! jesus!
song of the day: i don't believe in the sun - the magnetic fields
i don't believe in the sun. how could it shine down on everyone and never shine on me.

Crazy Hair

so, what comes first? the crazy or the hair? as i've said before, i ride the bus most days. using mass transit, you're exposed to all walks of life, and one of the first things you discover is, they usually limp. most of the time when i ride, i hope that people don't sit next to me, or, if they're smelly (and alot of the riders are) anywhere near me.

there are alot of crazies that ride, and i got to thinking today -- why do crazy people always have crazy hair? this one dude, a morbidly obese sweaty man sat in front of me, giving me a close up of his absolutely ludicrous comb over. now there are comb-overs where you see it, and you're like, dude, that's bad, give it up. and then there are parodies of comb overs, like you see on tv, where there are maybe four or five seriously greasy hairs covering up a bald-ass head. well, that's what this was -- just a crap-ass stinky, slimy, greasy comb-over. every time the bus door opened, a waft of air passed him, then me, carrying his nasty head-stink to my poor little nostrils. then, adding craziness to bad hair, this dude would go apeshit, practically throwing his sweaty face against the bus window to ogle passing women. it was gross. shit, i was offended for these women.

then another crazy got on the bus. his hair was nutbar. it was a big red 'fro, with huge bushy sideburns, and a terribly ungroomed mustache. not to mention stubble that could choke a horse. truth be told, he reminded me of ignatius j. reilly. he mumbled to himself, and twitched. he was more the crazy scary than the other guy. no wait, he was scary, too.

there's an old lady who hangs around the mall, too. with crazy bushy white hair. she's the kind of lady you see and you expect her to come from arizona and talk alot about being abducted by aliens. she throws her hands up in the air when you pass by her in the food court, like her hands form some kind of impenetrable barrier to your noisome aura and life-threatening germ factory. she rides the bus, too. surprise, surprise, right?

does being crazy automatically mean you lose all sense of what's right and wrong when it comes to personal grooming? is there one day when you wake up and go "fuck it, i'm not even gonna wash today. showers are overrated. screw brushes or combs or not looking like a complete nut!"

it's like that talk i had with damon a while back. i said to him, "damon," i said. "you know who rides the bus? the scum of the earth, that's who!"

he looks at me and goes, "you ride the bus"

I said, "my point exactly"




feeling: pissed, man
thinking of: pot
song of the day: let down - radiohead
one day i am gonna grow wings

DAMN YOU! part 2

anywho, i was watching me some reality tv tonight -- i had to find out what richard did to man-sue that would make her so p-o'd that she'd storm off the show. evidently, he rubbed his three-piec-set all over her. sicko. then the apprentice was on, and that nasty wiatch omarosa finally got the cobra-hand, and cried her way off the show. two dramatic exits in one night. innerestin'.

but what draws my ire tonight is a trailer i saw that managed to insult me in the first 3 seconds of broadcast. it was for Scooby-Doo 2: monsters unleashed. seriously -- who the fuck greenlights these movies? i guess what i'm trying to say is, godDAMN there is an overabundance of pure shit out there in the multiplexes. i mean, a few months ago there was that movie 'good boy' about the talking dogs. not that talking dogs aren't funny -- they are, especially if you're high -- but i mean, how many talking dog movies do we need? is there someone somewhere going "ok, it's been about a year since our last talking dog movie: that demographic must be getting pretty antsy." does that demographic really have such a powerful lobby? i'm sure the answer is a resounding, fuck no, man.

and seeing as how the original scooby doo probably cashed in alot on the nostalgic portion of the population who think that it'll be funny, go see it, and come out clamoring for the heads of the guys who chose cereal killer from hackers to play shaggy. and i quote the who: "we won't get fooled again"

scooby doo 1 and 2, good boy, baby geniuses, cody banks. does anyone wonder why movies like toy story and finding nemo do so well? could it be perhaps because they have a modicum of adult intelligence to them? could it be because they don't insult their small (in stature) audiences members? nope? maybe it's the fact that these movies are in production for years and real effort is put into them?

hmm....effort. there's a novel idea.

i mean, look at the simpsons. it's a cartoon, and plenty of kids watch it. but how many children are going to get the joke behind a store called "donner's party supplies"?




feeling: confused
thinking of: the best laid plans
song of the day: a lack of color - death cab for cutie
the girls in every girlie magazine can't make me feel any less alone. i'm reaching for the phone
to call at 7:03 and on your machine a slur a plea for you to come home but i know it's too late.

DAMN YOU! GODDAMN YOU ALL TO HELL!!

once again, i find myself angry with tv, and all the bastards and sonsabitches that run the networks. if you'll remember, this beef has been bubbling for some time now, what with my disgust at the raving insensitivity propogated by "reality" shows like the bachelor and bachelorette (see the february 4th entry -- yes i know i can link it, but fuck you).

my wrath was summoned last week by the news that the the apprentice, that NBC show with donald trump, is guilty of what the french call a little bullshit. now it's not like i base my whole life on the tenet that reality tv is actually even remotely real, but this was just blatant lying, this was.

then, right as '24' was peaking, getting to a point of almost intolerable tension and extreme badassness, fox fucking pulled it for five weeks!! can you believe that crap? i know all about sweeps, but get real -- people don't tune into the season finale of a show they've missed the previous 15 episodes of. not only that, it's replaced by a crap show called 'forever eden' where a dozen undeserving schmucks get to spend all kindsa time on a beautiful island, only to be shocked by the nastiness of human nature. if you want to be privy to the disastrously rude behavior of your fellow man, work retail, people. march 30, that's when '24' comes back, and not a minute too soon.

THEN, goddammit, fox went and seriously pissed me off again. a mere 4 episodes after a 3 week break, fox insists on putting the OC on hiatus AGAIN, for ANOTHER three weeks, and why? why this time?? what new show could they be rolling out that stimulates those old neurons? why "playing it straight" of course, a version of the bachelorette, where not only does the woman have to pick a man, but she's got to contend with the fact that several of them are gay men, pretending to be straight.

seriously, fox, get a fucking grip. we are not monkeys interested by the slightest movement in shiny things. we are not all toothless backwards hicks, looking to laugh at us some queers, or ready to jerk off over some self absorbed drama queen stuck on a deserted island with a bunch of syncopes. we may like melodrama, but this so-called reality bullcrap you're churning out makes melodrama like the OC seem like the fuckin new hours with jim lehrer.

knock it off, you greasy fools!!



feeling: still pissed off
thinking of: k-d
song of the day: between the bars - elliott smith
drink up with me now, and forget all about the pressure of days. do what i say, and i'll make you ok, and drive them away, the images stuck in your head

i fought the man, and the man won

there are times in your life, where you plan something. you plan it out in your head and ideas flow with the same ease as when you had those late night bong hits. you are beside yourself with excitement, realizing the potential for some seriously killer fun, and you can't wait for the sun to come up so you can go about implementing your plans to there full and inedscribably badass end.

but, as the high wears off, you realize that you were caught up in your own excitement and everything you'd hoped to accomplish was for naught. such was the sad case of the aforementioned picture project.

as you may remember, i was quite happy -- as a clam, i believe -- when i got my camera, and i was having a pretty swank time taking pictures throughout the day, laughing at myself. but then, the wind dropped outta my sails, as it is wont to do. stupid wetblanket wind.

so, i had one picture left on my wee camera, and i was gonna take one of myself in the mirror, looking all dapper in my suit that i was guilted into wearing to work on sunday. i should have known that the project was going to disintegrate into a stunning display of crap luck and anticlimacticism (is that a word? should be) when i pulled the camera out of my coat pocket to retreat to the bathroom, my private lounge, only to discover that the last picture had accidently been snapped....of the astoundingly interesting inside of my pocket!

then, yesterday, i made the mistake of going to a mall camera shop to have my shit developed, and they were a rip off. i drop off my stuff, request the picture cd, and leave. then i return a short while later, remembering that part of the reason i bought that specific camera was the offer of a free cd. i asked the fella that ran the joint what was up, and that i was supposed to get a freebie. then, to my horror, he revealed himself as the much discussed, often illusory spector - the man.

"we don't do that promotion" he tells me, with such readiness, i knew that he knew he was taking advantage of a sucker.
"well, then can i have my film back?"
"sorry, its already being processed. you can have the negatives when we're done, and use those to get the free cd"
"but i have to buy prints from the place to get the cd"
"no you don't"
"yes i do"
"no you don't"
"i'm pretty sure it said so on the box"
"you can just ask them for the cd"
"whatever. i have to go back to work"
"see you in an hour"

bastard!! ok, i know it wasn't totally his fault, and if i'd wanted i could have bitched and moaned until i got a free picture cd. but its like when a good boxer steps into the ring with the champion. he could win, but if the champ gets into his head, just the littlest bit, the fight's as good as over. i can't fight the man.

the man made me his bitch.

i spent a total of 30 bucks for something that's maybe worth a buck and a half, tops. goddamn man.


feeling: pissed off
thinking of: i dunno - music?
song of the day: get me away from here, i'm dying - belle and sebastian
i could kill you sure, but i could only make you cry with these words