The Complacent Cubicle Monologues

Facebook Status Messages

2009-10-23T13:23:00.000-07:00

I have been really entertained by facebook statuses of strangers. These back and forths are so good they make it onto the internet and outside of the restricted zone of friends, acquaintances, and people that you talked to for 2 seconds at a bar last wed. My friend's status messages suck, they are all factual and in no way funny. Actually I barely check the site since I don't have an Iphone and I don't care if you are eating a swiss cheese sandwich. Provolone is better anyway. Below are some of these awesome moments and a link to more. Extra bonus of fake status updates from imaginary videogame characters. That's not nerdy at all right?....right?

This is why you set your shit to private or be careful who you accept as a friend.

College Humor
Check this one out too hahahhahaa
College Humor 2
a lot more here but not all of them are solid. http://facebookfails.com
and fake ones

Oh and also when I googled facebook status messages trying to find funny ones, because I knew there must be a site where these were all compiled I got a lot of results for ready made status messages. Like really? You can't even come up with your own inane status messages? They aren't even funny and if you are that retarded that you need these we probably shouldn't be friends anyway. I just think it's weird and pathetic. Which could also be said about status messages in general but if you do post them at least come up with the shit yourself. Am I wrong?
http://facebookstatus.blogspot.com/

Breath

2009-10-14T20:37:00.000-07:00

The glass was almost empty, he stared down into it, the liquid sloshing against the sides, mini ocean of apple juice yellow, white caps of foam lapping over themselves. He breathed heavily thinking he could exhale everything that made him come here in the first place. The place was dirty, he had one foot against the bar and one firmly planted on a sawdust floor, elk head trophies lined the walls. A few scattered people
dotted the rest of the bar, probably regulars, who else would be here, he thought.

The people around him were heartily laughing and feasting on the fact that they were not alone. He knew better than to feel like them, he had given up on that kind of optimism and reckless thinking, he knew they were really alone, that everyone was really alone. If not now then soon, they were just blind in the stages between the loneliness, believing that their happiness could last. Thinking like that will only
hurt you in the end he muttered to himself, knowing that he was being selfish and misdirecting his ill will towards the innocent bar patrons. He didn't even know what that had meant, what would hurt them in the end? Living? Laughing? Yes and yes he nodded. He figured he had stopped living that night in August, too much pain, he had to shut it all off, move forward, just keep trucking, stop and look and she'll kick ya in the balls, life was a ruthless mistress, better to ignore her than to have to deal with all the shit she throws at you.

It didn't used to be like this, he wasn't always this way, lone wolf hunched over the bar, a shadow of life, red flannel glob of regrets and denial, denying his world, his life, his emotions. A sealed envelope already mailed. Too late to stop, sometimes he wanted to walk into traffic, lay down on the train tracks, disappear, change it all, start over, try harder, he could have stopped it, one moment pissing his life away. He had done his best, tried for her sake, pasted that smile on and held her hand through it all. He had hope when all was hopeless and now he had none left, when prayers go unanswered what's the point. When it all
rains down and your umbrella has holes, then just accept that wetness, that cold, pitter patter on a face that you can never hurt again, could never bring down again. Because he had never gotten up, not after all that, the months, and months of treatment, tests, doctors, nurses, flowers, and jello. She hated that jello but she ate it, when the pain wasn't too bad, he would tilt her head back for her, nurse her and wet her dry lips, hold her head in his hands, so light, deteriorating, but
not hopeless. Not yet, as long as her chest rose and fell, that glimmer flickered, that light that had filled his life with purpose, happiness, golden days of the future.

The future he thought to himself and almost chuckled, they wanted to have two kids, she wanted a boy and a girl, he hadn't decided, he just wanted her. Breakfast in bed, flowers for no reason, unable to kiss her enough, the brightness of her illuminated his world. Whatever happened in his day, in those long days at work, he knew she would be waiting, he would come home and lay his head on her lap, her hands caressing his scruffy cheeks. He stared up into her brown eyes, the reflections of the universe and all the beauty of the world. Angels swam in those
eyes, fireworks and symphonies, he would have to remind himself to exhale while looking at her, that exhale of pure contentment and the release of the day. Finally relaxation and comfort I am home, here in your arms, I am safe, I am home. Her smile large and toothy, her laugh full and uncontrollable, her head going all the way back and the laugh starting like a geyser working it's way to the surface, a deep laugh
spurting to the top, he would give anything to hear that laugh again.
"Give me another bartender"

They had met years ago, they were both young both attending the state school closest to their respective hometowns. He remembered that first glance at her, her hair was long like golden sunshine sauntering back and forth. She wore a knee length grey skirt, he thought she looked so proper. Her eyes encased in those bulky glasses that same smile and that beautiful laugh. It was so full of life that you could just feel it warming up your soul, even when you didn't know what was funny, you had to join her , that laugh beckoned, join me, enjoy life. Her laugh was the greatest gift he had ever received; he had been writing a thank you note since the day he met her. She walked in front of him on the way to her part-time job at the copy store on campus. He scanned her slowly, in awe, molten lava heart, bubbling. That breathtaking grasp on a heart so recently discovered. He had to
remember to exhale. If you had asked his other friends they would not have said anything particularly flattering about her, they would say she laughed too loud. They would tell you that she was not all that attractive. They would ask you what's up with her glasses? But they would also tell you that they had never seen him like this, that he floated down the hall, he was on the phone for hours, he entered the living room beaming like a moron. But on that first day he was nervous, for along with molten lava heart comes parched throat and the communication skills of an eight year old.

"Can I help you?" She looked into his eyes and he felt like she knew him already.

The path that they could tread on was visible to him at this moment. Not the twists and turns, those little misdirections, that every couple has. But that path they would one day travel down was just beginning to appear. She gave him that feeling of possibility, of motion, and lit that path to their future.

"Yeah actually you can, my name is Jonas, what's your name?" He smiled at her, trying to display his warmth but conceal the longing that even he felt might be a little much, especially for not even knowing her name.

"Nice to meet you Jonas, my name is Dorine, but everybody calls me D." He thought that it was a good sign that she had told him what other people called her, not just her formal name, he read it as a sign that she was allowing him to become more than just a customer.

She had welcomed her into that circle, the one inhabited by people who called her d and shared bottles of wine with her while feeding on her laughter. He assumed this is what she did but he really had no basis for this speculation.

"Ok D I need a reader for english 106, with professor Sinclair." He had just made that up, he was in the class but he knew there was no such reader.

"Alright let me go look it up, I'll be back in a sec." She walked through the back of the store, he heard her shuffling through papers searching for his imaginary reader.

He had not thought of what to do once she informed him that there was no reader for his class. Should he tell her the truth? I just came in here because I saw you walking and was automatically drawn to your presence, you're beautiful. Maybe too forward, maybe a little scary. Small talk, jokes, and a coffee date, this plan sounded better but he still didn't know how to get from point a to point b. While these scenarios swished around in his head, she reappeared readerless.

"I didn't see a reader for Sinclair, what was the class?" She looked back at him not accusingly, but he felt like she knew he was lying.

"Oh it's for english grammar, really interesting stuff."

She shook her head before responding, "Yeeeah actually that doesn't sound interesting at all."

He liked the way she looked at him, she probably looked at everyone this way, but he basked in the spotlight she bestowed upon him.

"You're right the class is horrible, haha but it's required so what can you do?" He shrugged his shoulders as he said this.

"I guess you can't do much, what major are you anyways?"

He was happy that the conversation was still in full swing, they shared a rapport, or at least enough of a connection to make it past the lie that had garnered her attention.

"I am an english major, which basically is the art of reading books and talking about them like your opinion is more informed than the next person's."

"Are your opinions more informed?"

"Not at all, but that's the thing about english, I can just support my opinions with segments of the writing and people have to accept them, it's just arguing about unknowns."

"Yep as long as you can support it with the text you win right?"

"Haha yeah you win, so what's your major?"

This was the natural flow of a college conversation, the same questions that everyone asked each other, name, major, where you from. These were always questions that were asked and the answers were forgotten as soon as they left the other person's mouth. Then when you met the person again you might add other questions like what classes are you in, where are you living now. Things that get asked, answered, and forgotten multiple times through out a semester or a year. This was different though, he hung on her every word, he would not forget, he would never forget. They ran through this obstacle course of recycled questions, before they emerged into territory that is reserved for those that you might actually spend time with, not just see on campus and run through the laundry list of acquaintance protocol. Somehow he had managed to invite her out for a cup of coffee and she had accepted. He had written her number down and shoved in his pocket before saying goodbye, and heading out the door of the copy shop. Step by step we tread down the path, our path. He was excited; he felt carbonated, fizzy ears and bubbles in his chest cavity. He pictured a doctor opening his chest and a flow of bubbles escaping and filling the sky. Bubbles with happy faces that had been squeezing his heart, animated and happy, he could feel them in there. He never wanted for them to escape, squeeze my heart, hug it, stay with me, if he could feel like this for the rest of his life he would die happy. He wanted to grab the light pole as he walked by and swing around it, just to be cliché. His friends would say they had never seen him like this.

This was how they had started. Built upon a lie their relationship flourished. They went to art galleries to feel sophisticated, they had picnics in the park, wine and baguettes, it was the best time of their lives. They were safe from the real world. They had classes but no real responsibility, their life was their love, they were attached at the hip, their friends got annoyed because they never saw them apart anymore. The guys got angry when she dragged him away from poker, the girls missed her at their weekly dinners and their shopping trips. Their path led them away from everyone else. They walked together and that was all that mattered. Everything took a backseat to their relationship, and this is how they thought it should be.

As he sat at that bar he wondered what things would have been like if he had never met her. He couldn't imagine not having her in his life, but the pain he felt now made him think of the choices they had made. Knowing how things would end, would he still do it again? He saw her looking at him in a picture from their trip to Monterey. It was just her in a black bathing suit, sitting by the water, she smiled as she looked over her shoulder at him. Oh how he missed her, the tears forming in the corners of his eyes, sniffles brought on by her smile, that warmth that had left his life so long ago. He figured that if he hadn't met her he would not be in this bar, alone, shattered. How long should it take to get over such a loss? His friends tried to comfort him, they tried to console him but he kept them a safe distance away from his pain. He shouldered it all himself they did not know his loss, they would never understand, he knew they we're only trying to help but their comforting only distracted from the penance he pushed upon himself. He had taken up suffering as his main occupation. He owed her for the life she had breathed into him, he saw the days before him and the suffering that would ensue as payment for the time he had spent with her. The ups and downs, the sweet chased by the bitter. It had been years of bitterness though, the cycle had been broken and no light had entered his life since she had extinguished it. It was now just bitter followed by bitter, and he stood resolute in the face of these challenges. He deserved it he said, the depression like a slow moving cloud, he saw it approaching and he could have moved but he felt it was his sentence in life. She had blessed him and now he must pay for the time he had spent with her. When will it be enough he thought? The tears he had shed were almost equal to the laughs they had shared. But he would never let her go, he would rather live with her memory and the sadness it brought with it, than to let her be phased out of his life. She was always in the forefront of his mind, he had reserved her that space and there was no double booking. Even if he wanted to he could not bring himself to stop missing her, how could one bring oneself to forget the greatest thing in their life? The juke box changed songs, Jim Croce sang, his voice weaving through the bar, lofting above the crowds and blending in with the noise of the patrons at the pool tables.

He gathered his jacket as he stumbled towards the door, his medicine, his painkiller, slurring his thoughts and stunting his ability to walk as he pushed open the doors of the bar, he felt the cold air rush around him, his feet crunched in the freshly fallen snow. The world was getting a chance to start over, a fresh white slate to begin anew. He fumbled with his keys as he fished them out of his pocket and unlocked the door to his truck. The engine sputtered to life and he slowly backed out of the space and onto the road. It was only a short drive to his house but he didn't even know if that’s where he should be heading, the emptiness of the house was all he could picture as he putted down the white road.

His vision was a little blurry; he might have had a little too much to drink. The truck strained up the hill, desperately trying to grab the road. It fishtailed before righting itself, the ice forming thin layers on his path. He was tired, his eyelids slowly closing and then snapping back up as he shook his head and turned up the radio. As he rounded a sharp curve the truck began to slide towards the guardrail. His reaction was slow and it was the wrong reaction. He jerked the steering wheel hard away from the guardrail, which made his car start sliding even more. He went into a tailspin, the truck whipping around as he tried to figure a way out. Out of control instead of trying to save himself he just sat and welcomed what he assumed would be his end. He saw her staring at him, her smile, the lights of that smile. He gripped the steering wheel hard as the truck slammed into the guardrail and busted through. The truck tumbled down the cliff, bouncing and spinning. He closed his eyes held his breath and smiled, I'm coming home he thought. He was still smiling when the car hit the water and knocked him unconscious.

When he told her he would love her forever he didn’t say it lightly. He truly believed it. It wasn't a throw away comment, there was no alternate intent, it was what it was, a genuine declaration of the feelings he had for her. In his eyes there was no one else for him. At the time there was not even a possibility that he was wrong. But after so many years of living the same day, with the same thoughts and tears, logic has to rear its head and start packing up the emotions that tether you to the past. At least that’s what a logical person would say, what his friends said. Time is the only cure they said, time heals all wounds, the thesis of the logical when consoling a grievous loss of any sort. Standing from the outside it’s an easy thing to say, it’s usually the truth as well. They underestimated his tenacity though, the love that he felt and the dedication that he had. At this point he was just being stubborn they thought, his loyalty to his loyalty for her is the real issue. He would never let go, because that’s what people expected, what he was supposed to do. He worked hard stoking the flames of her memory, keeping her on the tip of his tongue constantly in his mind. It was amazing how he suffered for her. She would have wanted you to move on his friends thought; only one had made the mistake of telling him this. That had ended with a fiery sermon from Jonah and served to only widen the chasm between him and his friends. He is the definition of inconsolable they said, I just hope he can come out the other end. He has to; he can’t go on living like this. He isn’t even living they said. But how could he not bring his past into the present, how did they expect him to demarcate the best thing he ever had as over, done, part of the past. We are not saying lock the door and throw away the key, just start living, because this...this right here...what you are doing now, that’s no way to live.

He saw two hands grasping something in their palms with both arms extended out towards him. Flashes of winding paths, geometric designs that spread out in exponential growths. Growth sprouting from growth, branches that twisted and turned creating new branches, new directions new possibilities. Ripples in water radiating out from a dark source, spreading across wide bodies of water. He exhaled but no breath came.

Sweet Caroline popped on next to his head. He awoke in his old dorm room in college. His alarm was blaring and his roommate yelled at him to turn it off. He slithered out of bed and slowly rose to his feet. He walked into the bathroom and stared into the mirror. His face was exactly how it had been in college. Everything was the same, his old college robe, his old college towels, his old college sink. He splashed cold water on his face trying to snap back into reality but the face in the mirror only stared back at him. What the fuck is going on he thought. He continued to stare at his face for several minutes waiting for something to happen.

"Hey jackass you almost done in there? Damn man I have class in like 10 minutes and I gotta take a shit, hurry the fuck up." His roommate's voice made him tense up as it marched into his thoughts and kicked them up in a dizzying cloud of dust.

"Yeah one sec I'm almost done." He replied groggily as he dried his face and opened the door.

Peter his old roommate stared at him. "What the fuck is wrong with you today man?" He asked as he slid by him and into the bathroom.

"Uh nothing, hey what's the date today?"

"It's the 6th why?"

"Just to be sure what's the month and year?"

"What the fuck? What the hell did you do last night? You didn't look that trashed. Month and year?"

"Cmon man just humor me."

"Alrighty then, you fucking weirdo, it's June 6, 1986, is that clear enough for you?"

"Yeah that is clear enough." Jonas walked away as Peter closed the door.

He plopped down on the bed and held his head in his hands. What the fuck is going on? He shook his head, the room was spinning, this added to his disorientation and he laid down staring at the ceiling.

He was a second year in college, he had lived here with Peter almost 10 years ago. Before everything, before her, before they had become them, before the love, the loss and the pain. I must be dead he thought, this made perfect sense to him seeing as how the last thing he remembered was flying off of a cliff and slamming into the darkened waters of the lake. Was it heaven or some sort of purgatory. Was he really still alive? Should he test to see if he could die? Can you die if you are already dead? How many lives do you get? Question upon question piled into his head as he continued to lay there staring at the ceiling.

"Hey might not want to go in there for awhile," Peter said exiting and quickly closing the bathroom door.

"Yeah I'll give it time to dissipate." He said not moving his gaze from the ceiling.

"What can I say taco Tuesday gets its revenge on me every wed." Peter said laughing. "And with that I am off to class, get your shit together man you look a mess." Peter left the room, leaving Jonas alone and still utterly confused. He rose slowly and started to get dressed, feeling cramped in the small room and thinking that some fresh air would help him to clear his head.

He emerged from the room, down the hall, and out onto campus, the bright sun slapping him in the face like floodlights on an escaped felon, he shielded his eyes, as they slowly adjusted. His acclimated eyesight was greeted by the campus draped in green, the tree branches weighing heavily with leaves. The grass lush and inviting. Kids scurried across the quad, their backpacks bouncing as they hustled along to their classes. Jonah stood there taking it all in the depression of his past blanched by the sun and youth that unfolded everywhere he looked. This was the time of possibilities, the time where the future was a far away thing that one need not be concerned with. What mattered was the present and the uncertainty of what could be, not what was. He sighed deeply, pushing out the darkness that he had saddled himself with for all those years and then inhaled the sun kissed breeze and the smells of spring that tip toed on top of it.

He thanked whoever or whatever was responsible for this refreshment, this new feeling of hope, like everything could be okay again. Continuing along his path he headed deeper onto the campus grounds, beaming uncontrollably, something he had not had the luxury of a short time ago. He greeted everyone with his wide toothed smile, the recipients probably bemused at the grinning stranger, wondering if they knew him and if not what was he smiling at? He, uncaring and unaware of their thoughts was ecstatic, filled to the brim with a feeling of joy, he wanted to hug each person, thank each piece of the new world for just existing. Upon emerging from the depths that he had inhabited it was as if mere rocks were objects of spectacle to his previously cloudy eyes. The clouds having cleared, everything took on a luminous sheen, a brightness that he couldn't help but appreciate. He carried on like this wandering aimlessly, invigorated and no longer concerned with why this had happened, but just glad that it did.

Too absorbed in the minutiae of his surroundings he had no idea the path he was taking, until he rounded a corner and the copy shop stood like a dark monument, seemingly towering above all of the other buildings. He stopped dead in his tracks, exhaling deeply, fear beginning to infiltrate what was once filled with that feeling of exuburance, stretching it's dark hands over that brightness that he had just been enjoying. He was afraid to look inside, afraid that she might be there, afraid of what he would do if she was. He summoned up the courage after a couple of minutes of staring at the ground and fiddling in his pockets with perspiration soaked hands. Slowly raising his eyes to the window he braced for impact only to discover that no one was in the window except a customer he did not know. They stood at the counter, their hands gripped around the shoulder straps of their backpack, but he saw no sign of a worker.

He wondered what he would do if she was there. The obvious answer was to go in and start down the path that had been the happiest time of his life. Yet he hesitated mentally going down that road as he considered the ruin that it had caused him, what the loss of her had done to him. The weight of the two choices made him want to lay down where he stood and give up. The impossibility of his predicament was debilitating. Before he would not have hesitated if someone asked him if he would do it all over again, but when faced with the actuality of this quagmire he surprised even himself with his inability to easily decide. If I could just have the chance to see her one last time he often prayed, just one last embrace, his nightly mantras paraded in front of him. Those thoughts he repeated as he convalesced on a couch inebriated and tearful. They taunted him as if to say well here you go, here is your chance. Knowing the path that this will lead you down what's your choice? He hated himself for considering the alternative, she was your world, the light, your everything, how can there be another choice? Because I have a clean slate he thought, the chance to start on a new path, one that doesn't lead to lonely nights at bars, funerals, an unmendable heart. Things could be better for me in the end. Or they could be worst he thought, operative word could he argued, not definite, one leads to her definite death, and everything that entails.

He closed his eyes inhaling deeply through his nose. He slowly turned away from the copy shop with quivering legs. He continued to just stand there, feet cemented to the ground. The image of the two hands, arms extended towards him flashing in his head.

(Comments on the story. I think the ending is rushed, the imagery is forced and obvious and this is a total rip off of "Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind" minus Charlie Kaufman's genius writing and superior skill.)

Grandma

2009-08-03T15:46:00.001-07:00

As a grandchild I was fortunate to be at the receiving end of the best aspects of your personality. In my eyes you were always a little bundle of Japanese joy. It's hard for me to picture you upset or not smiling because it doesn't mesh with the idyllic imagery I have of you in my head. I picture big curls of hair, glasses, and a warm smile that proceeds a huge hug. Big family gatherings in Chowchilla, the smells and warmth of home cooked food. I guess I kind of pictured you as the stereotypical image of the perfect Grandma. One that taps the screens of slot machines and says, "seven, seven, seven." Who sits down and says, "Oyshakoda." Who enjoys a good game of Yahtzee or Rummikubs. I know it in no way encompasses the many aspects of you and glazes over the nuances that made you as a whole such a genuine and loving person, but that's just the image I have.

Joyous? Check.
Kind? Check.
Did you spoil us? Check.
Affectionate? Check.
Bake great cookies? Check.
Did you let me jump on your back and yell go granny go? Check.

Artistically talented and profoundly influential in not only the formation but also the anchoring and stability of the entire family, it's hard to express just how much you mean to all of us. When I was younger and had a thing for collecting raccoon figurines, you told me that your mother had a small collection of them as well and that's why I must have been into them. If the influence of my great grandmother trickled down and presented itself in my collecting habits, I hope that I am lucky enough to have the way you are and the way you lived show an even more pronounced presence in the rest of my life.

I know you passed down your sometimes surprisingly crude yet harmless sense of humor. You always had some new jokes to tell me whenever I saw you. It didn't matter how corny they were, if you delivered the punchline too early, if you rephrased it so the joke fell flat, they always made me at the very least smile. You can't not smile when the sweetest lady in the world tells you a joke, no matter how bad it is. My brother and I were talking about a memory of ours involving your sense of humor. We were probably teenagers and had been playing basketball. I must have left the basketballs on the table because my dad chided us saying, "Toe, get your balls off the table." You started laughing hysterically, trying to stifle yourself and fight back tears. I think Mom saw you and sucked her teeth like she always does. "Tsk, Miiitch!!" You responded through uncontrollable laughter, "Winston said it...Toe, get your balls off the table," as you resumed laughing. That's one of my favorite memories, picturing you trying unsuccessfully to contain the laughter that was fighting through. Tears of pure joy streaming down your face.

You and I also shared the same taste in music. Although I prefer Deano to Perry Como, I won't forget slow dancing with you at Jim's birthday.

Feet shuffling slowly on uneven grass, the pretend Beatles providing the rhythmic backbone to our unrhythmic movements. The cool Sacramento breeze lightly whispering above the fray of the party as we rocked back and forth under a darkening sky. They had started a slow song and I had grabbed you and lead you to the grass. While we danced, bordered by tiki torches, I asked if you and Grandpa used to go out dancing. You told me you had and I pictured the two of you swaying to Louis Armstrong cheek to cheek in a smoke filled danceroom. I am not exactly sure where that would have been in Fresno, but it didn't really matter. We went back to circling in silence. Small steps in the cool night time air, a large tree casting shadows on the ground. I looked at the rest of the family and grinned, we moved closer to Jim, who's birthday it was and joined their circle. The pretend Beatles played us out.

These are only a few of the memories I am blessed to have cultivated during a life spent with your love, your gentle healing hugs and your infectious attitude of positivity and joy. I am forever grateful to have had you in my life, for your guidance, love, affection, jelly donuts, and strength. The ability to raise such a successful family in some of the harder times to pull off such a feat. You are the matriarch of our family, the Queen that holds us all together. I love you immensely. Thank you for being there for me and the entire family. We are lucky to have been blessed with your presence and kindness. I love you more than words can say.

Go Granny go,

Toe

I Wish you Love

2009-07-28T14:48:00.001-07:00

Song comparison time, it's been awhile. Mostly because my home computer is infected with pornbots or something, so it's completely dead, it won't even load windows. So when I was back at my parent's this weekend, I had my external and was able to free some music from the syphilitic corpse of my computer. My hand still smells...that's gross...I meant like wires and computer stuff...and algae...yeah still gross.

Two very different singers going to battle today. Both are smooth bastards that ooze cool though. Careful, watch your step, cool is slippery and these guys just leave a trail of it wherever they happen to go. Oh me? Yeaaah especially stay clear of that, I ooze something else. Just walk around it and avert your eyes. It's better for everyone that way.

The song is, "I Wish You Love." It's your standard that was fun I have a broken heart now but I wish you luck in your future romatical endeavors kinda song. Actually I can't think of many songs like that. I know this one track, "It Was So Nice While It Lasted." But, I can't remember if the dude was angry or ok with the fact that the shit was done. Most songs seem to deal more with the loss as opposed to the acceptance of loss. Ex: every song ever written. Ok maybe not but basically most songs are either about the search for love or the loss of love. This is no exception, the main difference being the singer's acceptance of the past and the ability to not hold it against the person that they still love. Does, "It's Too Late" by Carole King kind of fit in that category? Just checked and yeah it does.

"There'll be good times again for me and you
But we just can't stay together, don't you feel it, too
Still I'm glad for what we had and how I once loved you."

Now I am trying to think of loss of love acceptance songs, I am sure there are a ton out there. Like, "Copa Cabana"...yeah maybe not that one. But this song is for sure one of those types of acceptance songs. Instead of wanting to burn her house down and stab any guy that gets within a 25 mile radius of her, he is like, that's cool....ouch...no really have a good time, I really do think he means it though....unlike SOME people I know, *points over shoulder at person pointing at him....* Wait...a...minute..Damn mirrors...

"My broken heart and I agree, that you and I will never be, so with my best, my very best, I set you free."

And just so you know, he isn't speaking about unlocking the cage, turning off her GPS tracking so she goes "off grid" or untieing her hands, he is talking about letting go of the his hopes for reconcilliation and the life that he pictured for them both. At least I think so.

Umm were we supposed to be doing something here, besides expounding on a simple song with uncomplex lyrics and a pretty straightforward meaning you can easily decipher with one listen? Oh yeah, so first up to bat is Dean Martin. You know this guy, at least I hope so. For those of you out there who don't listen to Grandpa music or are not in fact Grandpas, for shame!! Even if you don't listen to him, you should know who he is.

And if you seriously don't know who he is, then you can go here Wikipedia
But cmon who the hell doesn't know who Dean Martin is? The boys at the IHOP would laugh you right outta our 11:00 AM meeting if you came in spouting some nonsense like that, "Who's Dean Martin? Why I outta...damn whippersnappers with their rappidy hop and the buttock shaking..their pony riding and wanting to make love to people, on their bended knees. I used to be able to bend my knees. Back in my day you courted you didn't freak, and a freak was something bad, not something you would embrace. Eagles were birds and butterflies were insects, when did they become burlesque show movements. These pre-pubescent children with their gyrations, it's just so tawdry. I just saw the state of Florida has a new song out, well I'll tell you something sunshine state, it's all just noise to me, noise I say!! I don't even know what an applebottom is, it used to be the bottom of an apple, but something leads me to believe it's something suspicious in this day and age. Bunch of ruckus, It's a God damn shame."

Listen to Dean's version, it's undeniably smooth. He coolly rides the rhythm. Dean never seems to exert himself, projecting a voice that just easily saunters across the melody and music that backs him. The light flourishes of strings combine for a nice airy confidence that lightly tugs on heart strings and guides you through the song. The acceptance part is prominent in this version, the unaffected vibrato of Dean's voice while slightly twinged in remorse and pain from the loss never fully emotionally bubbles to the surface. He steadfastly remains the calm crooner. When he dips to the lower registers you can feel the pain but the arrangement totters between something apt for a nice Summer day spent in a hammock and a song to be listened to while sitting alone in a parlor with a strong glass of scotch. It's playfully heartbreaking. Either way you look at it, the song is beautiful and Dean does an excellent job in his effortless translation.

Next up Sam Cooke. Ehhhhh...he's aiiiight. Nothing special...only like one of my favorite voices EVAR!!!! Sorry..*Puts shirt back on* Sam's choice to stretch, elongate and slow the pace of the song lends itself to a more emotional interpretation. Whereas Dean's was smoothly paced, sashaying along with the music, Sam seems to take a more laconic approach, taking his time to imbue each lyric with more bravado. His pure voice is easily able to caress each lyric and instill it with more heartbreak than Dean's. The way he uses the smoothness and purity of his voice to ride the lyrics seems to punch the song up. From the start, the first music note followed immediately by the way he dips into that first lyric is captivating. The backing music seems secondary to the prowess of Sam's voice. While Dean's is applaudable because it seems effortless, Sam's is superior because of the obvious effort that he put forth. Sam's version is just an excellent display of singing, that's a pretty song, that's a great singer, that's how you do it. The phrasing is perfect, and I can't think of a note that I would change. I love the way he stretches the words out, the perfect pitch of his voice is heart melting poppy musical goodness. So for me Sam wins, who didn't see that coming?

Talk about a song battle, check out how many people recorded this song. Some heavy hitters in that group, if I wasn't lazy I would get some more copies, but uh...yeah..I am lazy. I bet the Ella is awesome, but out of the two versions I have on my computer Sam wins. I have heard the drifters version on vinyl and I can say that it loses to Sam and Dean. Have you heard any other versions? Do you Like Dean's better? Would you like a neck massage?

* Ronnie Aldrich
* The Artistics
* Chet Baker
* Long John Baldry
* Michael Ball
* Billy Hawks (New Genius of the Blues, 1967)
* Shirley Bassey (1968)
* Gianni Basso
* Vicki Benet
* Franco Battiato
* Bruno Bertone
* Ray Brown
* Ray Bryant
* Joyce Carr
* Johnny Case
* Jeanne Castle
* Ray Charles
* Rosemary Clooney
* Nat King Cole
* Harry Connick Jr.
* Chris Connor (1978)
* Russell Conway
* Sam Cooke (1963)
* Van Craven
* Bing Crosby
* Bette Davis
* Blossom Dearie
* Joey De Francesco
* Tony De Sare
* Marlene Dietrich
* Joe Diorio
* Bill Doggett
* Arielle Dombasie
* The Drifters
* Harry "Sweets" Edison
* Ella Fitzgerald
* The Five Jades
* Buddy Fo
* Vincent Franco
* Alison Fraser
* Laura Fygi
* Judy Garland
* João Gilberto
* Giant Sand (1995)
* Benny Goodman
* Eydie Gorme
* Graciela
* Benny Green
* Grant Green
* Niki Haris
* Bill Henderson
* Ian Hendrickson-Smith
* Ron Hevener
* Earl Hines
* Engelbert Humperdinck
* Willie Hutch (April 1976)
* Chrissie Hynde Soundtrack from the movie Eye of the Beholder, 1999
* Joni James
* Jack Jones (1962)
* Jerry Lee Lewis(1982)
* Gloria Lynne (the biggest hit single, 1964)
* Friends of Dean Martinez (1995)
* Chris Montez (1966)
* Mark Murphy (in "Song For The Geese", 1997)
* Lisa Ono
* Esther Phillips (1965)
* Frank Sinatra with the Count Basie orchestra (on It Might As Well Be Swing, August 1964)
* The Skatalites
* Keely Smith (1957)
* Rod Stewart and Chris Botti (October 18, 2005)
* Barbra Streisand (1966)
* David T. Walker (1976)
* Nancy Wilson (October 1960)
* Rachael Yamagata
* Natalie Cole
* Patricia Kaas (on Piano Bar, 2002)
* Dean Martin (1962)
* Shirley Bassey
* La Rondalla de Saltillo

Creepy

2009-07-14T08:32:00.001-07:00

Hello Acura driver,

This is the creepiest thing that I have ever done. Well except for that incident with the horse, but I swear to Zeus that thing said it was 18. Oh, the age wasn't the issue?...I see...well then. You have found this note on your car because I thiiiink I saw you the other day, and I thiiink you looked very pretty. If you are indeed not pretty please disregard this note..just kidding we can still do it even if you aren't pretty. I have no morals, standards, or toenails, that last part is what we call TMI, but is the truth ever really TMI? Is it? Huh? According to Jack Nicholson yes sometimes it is, but I wouldn't listen to him, because he is a Lakers fan and feasts on the souls of aborigine school children. Which everyone knows are high in transfat, and that's just not healthy.

So, if you would be interested in a cup of coffee, a game of backgammon (I don't even know what this game is) or a small nibble at a public place, so I can make sure you don't try and kidnap me, I know your games!!! We could do this. I might look far more highly upon you if you didn't respond though, because let's be honest, this is weird, and you have to be pretty crazy to accept a backgammon game with someone whom you have never met, I mean we aren't even facebook friends for christ's sake.

But if you are willing to throw caution to the wind, or puppies, they are more aerodynamic than caution, perhaps this will lead somewhere...like a dark dungeon filled with my other wives muhahahaha (evil laugh)..that wasn't supposed to be out loud. If anything, you can show this letter to your friends and you guys can giggle and someone can make that psycho noise, the reee ree reee, with the stabby motion, and that would not only be logical, but also a night well spent and this letter will be of some use. Or you could bring it to court to show them proof that a crazy person has approached you. But perhaps, just maybe, this will be a story that we can look back upon with our grandchildren and guffaw about.

Creepiest part of the last sentence,
A) grandchildren
B) guffaw
C) upon
D) all of the above.

I am going to go with all of the above with a special emphasis on grandchildren. Not that I wouldn't want grandchildren, someone has to do the farm work, but how did we get grandchildren without having children first? It's just not logical, and lack of logic creeps me out, kind of like toddlers that do farm work. What kind of fertilizer do you use little Timmy the tomatoes are splendid!! This is basically a test of your sanity, if you are crazy you can email me at I'dhitthat@yahoo.com if you are sane a good day to you and congratulations.

Sincerely,

Creeper McCreepster

Expiration Dates

2009-07-14T08:30:00.000-07:00

I was thinking about this the other day, everything has an expiration date right? Well except maybe a perpetual motion machine, or a twinkie, those bitches are good 4-evaaa. *Eats cold war twinkie* Mmmmm still as bad as the first day it was birthed from the twinkie monster. I would also add New Kids On The Block albums to the list, those are timeless, there is no expiration date on awesome.

But I was thinking more along the lines of a relationship expiration date. I heard from someone that there was a scientific study done that showed lust levels, or levels of endorphins, were raised as a result of pheromones in coupling people for an average of two years. So that, awww he makes my heart melt, pitter patter, ice cream and puppy dogs shit? Yeah that's science, those are hormonal reactions, kind of like bitchiness and aspergers. Ok, one of those is not related to hormones, you guess which one. Now, not knowing if this report even exists, who did the study and why Adam Lambert didn't win American Idol, let's take it at face value. Let's look at real life people, let's watch episodes of the Hills and see if we can substantiate this. What? That's scripted?...How dare they...I cared, I really cared, and to think it was all for naught, you will get no more of my tears you blonde girl in big sunglasses.

Seriously I see truth in this possible made up report, two years does seem to be the tipping point to a lot of relationships. For two years I watched every Macguyver show with unadulterated lust, lust for inventions, innovations, mullets, men with three names, men like Richard Dean Anderson. After two years I moved on, to a paunchy butler and his merry band of misfits who replaced a certain mulleted young stallion. You are no Bob Uecker I would say when Rich called me, I have lost that lusting feeling and it's gone..gone...gone..whoa whoaaa. He would usually respond with I didn't call you, you called me, and then end it with I am changing my number again. But those are merely footnotes in the story of our love and the references are uncited so I edit that part out. Hasn't anyone ever sat you down and said, "Shit's not real till you hit that two year mark playa." Not necessarily in that venacular or maybe not at all, but I am just saying I have seen shit crash after the two year mark repeatedly. It's science, people you don't need to understand it you just have to believe, oh wait...that's faith, nevermind. So perhaps two years is too concrete, but I feel like every relationship has an expiration date, nothing lasts forever.

That may sound defeatist and depressing, but it's reality. Not only in a space time continuum we will all perish like the dust of the universe into a black abyss kind of way but in a man I am kind of tired of you, please get out of my bed kind of way as well. It's just that after awhile you run out of things to talk about, you know that person, their stories, their jokes. I don't know when I stopped being funny to the ex, but I know that I didn't elicit the same kind of laughter I did when we first met. It's like when your Uncle is all, I got your nose!! And you respond by stabbing him in the knee with a fork and demanding the return of said nose or you will break a finger for each minute that passes until said nose is delivered to a mutually agreed location. Funny the first time, not so much after that. That's why you have to draw things out. You don't just unload all of the goodies in the beginning, I don't even tell girls my real name until we are married.

"Why does the wedding invitation say Jerome and Carrie, did you do this Mark or did the printer mess up?"
"Suuurprise!!! I also don't have a job and have been sitting in the park and begging for change while you thought I was at work. Ha, like MIT would really hire me to run their Latin department, I don't even know if they have a Latin department and I can't even read!!!....where you going? Too much?"

See hold back, it makes things easier and it stalls the eventual expiration date. By reinventing yourself every week, maybe you can keep those lust levels up. Is the same joke in a different accent a new joke? I like to think so, but I also like to think the Colonel is Asian and that we don't die we get high and multiply.

Those were just discussions on serious relationships though, now what is the expiration date on people finding out that they don't even want a serious relationship with you? How long can you fool someone or how long does it take for people to realize they don't like you? Since I am so in yo face people usually know where they stand with me in a matter of seconds. Don't like being covered in paper mache and cast as goat number 4 in a moonlight sonata directed by yours truly? Then move a long little lady, don't agree that "Weekend at Bernie's" is both hilarious and a poignant commentary on post colonial India and the problems with capitalist wealth distribution and trickle down economics? Get to steppin, and not the steppin as in dancing, steppin as in walking away, but actually if you could step that may increase your chances of me being interested in you. If you can say Homo Erectus without giggling? Yous gotsta go. Having passed all of those tests still doesn't guarantee how long your expiration date is extended though.

I know that my star fades with time, after I lose interest in entertaining you and winning you over, I become a different person, hence the name change to Jerome, the illiteracy and lack of job. I reveal my true colors and they start shining through. The jokes just stop registering on the laugh-o-meter, which at first I thought was some kind of electrical error, but then I played it an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond and it didn't respond to that either, so it must be working. The easy part is fooling someone in the beginning, the hard part is maintaining. Maintaining is always the hard part whether we are talking about clean houses, attendance records or sobriety. Look at me I started being sober 3 minutes ago, now the maintenance and duration is the real issue.

Maybe people learn this as they get older, I am sure there are some happily married people, but the vast majority? Not so much. Most look at their significant other and are thinking you have lost that new car smell, now you smell like the 1984 camry that you are. I think the happiest couples are the ones who are mutually defeated. The ones who are afraid that they won't find anyone else so they settle. That sounds harsher than I mean it to. It just seems more realistic, to admit that they will never find that one fantasy person and that what you have is the best you will get. Then you can really dedicate yourselves to each other. Noone has one foot out the door because they are afraid to. Truthfully there is always something better and there is always something worse. So you have to find a happy medium and then fake a pregnancy so you can lock them up. My girlfriend has been pregnant for 10 years, that's a long gestation period, but she assures me it will come when the seven moons align and the righteous reign supreme in their rightful place. Now I am not saying just grab any hobo off the street and settle obviously let them fool you for a couple of years and let that lust sauce ooze into your cerebellum, you have to think you are in love with them, perhaps actually be in love with them. I am just saying when that starts to fade, let's not be so quick to jump the gun, unless it's in the hands of a hobo you just randomly picked up then definitely jump at it and try and wrestle it away.

I just think realizing you are right for each other has a lot to do with not wanting to find out if you are right for other people, maybe that's just me, but I feel a certain amount of settling is a natural and logical thing to do. Because the lust sauce will stop oozing and then it comes down to can I look at this person everyday for the rest of my life and not want to spoon their eyes out and use them as cherries atop my sundae, you may have different thoughts, adjust accordingly. There is always someone new, more exciting, more lusty out there. You just have to really commit to that one person you are with, know that the shared history you have and the genuine love you feel for them will be enough to carry you through, the love not lust is what you are left with. The concept of lovey dovey floating on clouds just fades, you hear people talk about stoking the fire, whacking the bush, incubating the marmot, and that's really what you need to do but you also have to realize that it will not be an endless parade of fantastical pink clouds and confetti. It's scientifically proven, by some report, I didn't bother to even try and look up.

This ended up being way more defeatist than I meant it to be hopefully you can piece together the small tidbits of what I was trying to say and construct them into a totally logical and acceptable discussion. Let me try and summarize in other words regurgitate what I have just written. I am not saying settle, I kind of am, I am not saying all relationships are doomed to failure. The expiration date thing could be when one of you dies, haha, yeah I just laughed at the death of your significant other, hey I have to get it in now, it would seem cruel to do it when it actually happened. What I'm saying is accept reality, obviously you know if the person is right for you, don't ignore that, but also don't keep looking for something better when things lose that shine. Try and work through the rough patches, don't be a rock jumper, jumping from rock to rock, because pretty soon you will be out of rocks and all alone... or something like that. How about you just read High Fidelity?

If you don't care, then stand over there

2009-07-14T08:29:00.000-07:00

I was reading a sports site that I go to everyday, called Athletics Nation. As interesting as that is, that's not the reason I am writing. Although it is kind of the reason and I guess I could just end the entry here. Create some suspense, instill all two of you people reading with a sense of bewilderment and mystery, which really is my daily goal anyway. I just want to take you back to the good old days when you were tiny people who had nap time, snack time, special private touchy time with the janitor, you remember those days right? No? Just me? Ok then...

So the Athletics played the Atlanta Braves for inter-league play last year. I stumbled on this thread http://www.athleticsnation.com/2008/5/18/519989/the-atlanta-braves-thetoma The thread is basically about the tomohawk chop and the mascot of the "Brave." If you don't know what the tomohawk chop is, just think of how you used to play cowboys and indians when you were a little ignorant bastard and you will get the gist of it. You know when you used to run around and make "indian noises," do rain dances, and refused to answer to anything besides Pochohantas? Yeah you do, don't make me get the pictures, you saucy bastards. So, to do the move in question, basically you hold your arm like a tomohawk, which is where I think the tomohawk part of tomohawk chop comes from and then you make a chopping motion. I still don't get why it's called the tomohawk chop, I get the tomohawk part but the chop......Oh.......I get it, now. Is it just me or do I seem stupid? Well I guess that question was answered yesterday huh? Back to the lecture at hand, not only does the move consist of the physical motion, it is also accompanied by a vocalization. A slow and steady, Ohhhh, Ohhh, Ohh, I am insulting, Ohhh, Ohhh, ok one part of that didn't fit can you guess which part? Here is a video in case you were saying it wrong. Be sure to practice judiciously and be sure to do it absurdly loud at inappropriate times k? http://video.aol.com/video-detail/indians-braves-tomahawk-chop/3574702359

The question here is, is this insulting and should the mascot be changed? I think the Indians have a far worse looking mascot, but both teams I think are a little offensive. Here is the Cleveland Indian's mascot.
The motherfucker's name is Chief Wahoo. Seriously? Chief Wahoo? Haha cmon. There are actually websites talking all about this, and every Indian mascot being used. Florida Seminoles, The Redskins, there are a bunch of others too.

I mean just look at the name Redskins, can you imagine a team being named the Yellowskins? Blackskins? How about the Yellowskins with a buck toothed rice hat wearing Chinese dude as their mascot. The cheer would be the whole crowd bowing and making Chinese jibberish noises in unison, would that fly? Shit even the name Indians is wrong. It only exists because some Italian guy got off his boat and thought he was in India. I am not going to debate this really, if you want a more informed historical debate on it you can find it in that thread or you can find it anywhere on the internet. Just looking for some pictures and stuff I found another sports forum arguing about the same issue as well. What I really wanted to address was the people who don't think it's offensive.

I understand that you don't think it's offensive, that's great, that's your right. What I don't understand is people arguing that others should not find it offensive. Like hey it's just a mascot get over it, uh oh here come the PC police, shit like that. Look you have the right to not be offended and the offended people have the right to be offended. If it doesn't offend you then why are you even talking or taking issue with it? You can't tell people they shouldn't be offended by something, just like I can't tell you should be offended by something. If you don't care then stand over there. Don't try and say it's no big deal, because obviously it is to some people, and those are the people being affected by it. I am all for freedom, let them be pissed, off, why do you care?

Nothing But Sunshine

2009-07-14T08:28:00.000-07:00

I get a text the other night from the new gothic girl neighbor. She reminds me of Violet from the Incredibles mixed with Daria and a hint of Charles Manson thrown in for good measure. I think it's the swatiska on her forehead or maybe the beard, I can't decide. So the text was, word for word,

"Do you have any movies with violence and killing in them, that I can borrow?"

Which wouldn't have been thaaat crazy but add the fact that as soon as I muttered to myself,

"Yeah I actually do,"

she rolled out from underneath my bed on one of those mechanic's wheelie board thingys and said,

"Excelllllllllent."

I was a little startled, as people on rolling boards under my bed tend to do that to me. But I regained my composure, changed my pants and asked her to please stop rolling back and forth,

"Can you just be stationary please?"

It was a nice little contrast though a sad depressed gothic chick on a board wheeling around and smiling widely. Smiling with murderous intent or glee? Are they really that different in the mind of Violria hot topic consumer? I guess we will have to test that question at a later date. So, I show her to the movies and she starts talking about Patty Hearst and how she thinks she has Stockholm's syndrome. Which really came out of nowhere I believe that I was pontificating on whether crayon shaped hair barrettes were classy or trashy, a perfectly standard conversation topic that ties into any logical discussion, so I have no idea how she ended up going that route. Oh and just for the record, they are pure class. Anyway, back to her insane topic,

"Ummm who has held you captive and who have you fallen in love with?"

"It's just more the idea the freedom to give up your identity it just opens up so many possibilities."

"You would be captive though and the possibilities of your new identity have to line up pretty close to what your captors envision. It's not like you are an independent contractor here, say you want to think you are now a well educated Nigerian banker, well your captors also have to

A) believe in well educated Nigerian bankers
B) want to live with a well educated Nigerian Banker
C) I didn't get this far because she interrupted me with mock choking motions, it counts as "mock" if she stops right before you black out right?

"Ok well maybe I meant that the idea of not choosing is a refreshing idea."

"Umm yeah could you repeat that, sound doesn't carry so well through that cloud of self pity and emo depression you are stewing in...please don't stab me."

Who knows what the hell she was talking about, she just wanted to be kidnapped or something and not have to decide what to do with her life, at least that's what I got out if. That and a trip to first base if you know what I'm saying, high five!!! Sad boobs are still boobs, it's just that sad boobs have a higher tendency to be attached to stabby hands. But I like to live in the moment, which did not help me as a child when I kept touching the stove, different moment!! Nope still burns, new moment!! Ouch...I don't like living in this moment it smells like burnt hotdogs and pain.

So that was just one random tangent she went on, and as a master of random tangents I feel like I can judge them pretty well. The difference between hers and mine are that mine never really approach the seriousness or weirdness that she was displaying. I may joke about juggling hedgehogs and opening a barbershop for emus but we all know I will never get the permits approved so they are in essence wolf tickets, and I be selling a lot of them, naw mean? I f you don't know what that means then you should google the Click and up your early 90's bay area gangsta rap catalogue. So yeah she says shit that you just don't really bust out so early in the getting to know you phase. Stuff like,

"Do you have protection, is that a birthmark, you do have the keys to these right?"

It's like calm down crazy, "What is this an interrogation?"

The response is usually no it's a lineup please face forward but in this case it was different, it was neither an interrogation nor a line up. Sort of new territory for me. Me and her are just very different people. While I prance around in my happy round sun costume, hopping from foot to foot and repeating,

"Haaappy, haaappy."

She just puts her hair in her eyes and talks about dark clouds that are blurring her vision and making the voices harder to quiet. Rumblings of depression seeping out through emotional scars that have failed to be exercised by the years of cutting and the words of her favorite band sad black cloud no happy, or something like that. I am just not that drenched in sadness. I might have been at one point after I lost my role in the Lizzie Maguire movie, but I got over it, I saw the logic. In reality 42 year old men do not look as realistic playing 14 year old girls as say a 14 year old girl would. I get you Sony, you still could have let me try out, but I understand. Casting despite what you may have been told is not a blind process, they actually look at you when they make their choices and they actually check to see if you are a convicted felon, lesson learned, and we moved on.

You don't see me getting all angsty and self mutilating. At this point in my life I just don't get that riled up about anything, sure I get mad when my dvr doesn't record Matlock but I just breathe deeply, take a couple body shots of metamucil off of Edna and I sit back in my rocking chair and light a blunt. I would like to act like I have things to be angsty about but I just don't. I don't have parents that nag me to do my homework or telling me to stop sneaking into the neighbor's house and putting their ice cream on the counter to defrost. I clean my room all by myself now, I just don't have any real demons to battle with in my head. So it's a little strange to hang out with someone drenched in darkness, a person who not only thinks the cup is half empty, but that it has been thrown to the ground and crushed under tires of a mercilessly evil and vindictive driver named life.

You maybe be asking yourself why I would want to hang out with such a person then. Well it's hard to not hang out with someone who rolls out from underneath your bed, but besides that issue there is also the nurturer in me. The one who mends the broken wings of sparrows and genetically modifies them to deliver bags of cornuts to disenfranchised inner city baseball players. It's just my nature, it's what I do, it's what I got my cornut attacher for in the first place. So have no fears you little emo, stabby Vioria, I will mend your wings, infuse you with some happy, and get you a sunshine costume so we may orbit the hallways joyously and then go shop together at Hot Topic..or I will be stabbed in my sleep and that would also be a mission accomplished in my eyes.

Trying to Find A Balance

2009-04-28T12:11:00.001-07:00

How far can one's shared interests propel the evolution or progression of a relationship? What kind of interests are we talking about here? You incoherently mumble. I know it's a speech impediment, stop crying, I just think it's funny, I'm sorry I didn't catch that last part please enunciate. Ha, I know you can't that's why I mock you. So are we talking about interests like cross bow hunting toddlers? Poaching eggs in extreme conditions such as upside down while dangling from a forklift? (That relationship only lasted the duration of said egg poaching) "These are runny!!! We are through!!" Her words not mine, I prefer a little liquidity in my poached eggs and assets. Well we are not talking about any of those things, we are talking about interests like art, movies, baseball, music, those sort of normal things.

I have been on the scene for a little bit, and when I say scene I mean strip, and when I say strip, I mean strip club, and when I say strip club I mean I was once hired for a bachelor party in a garage and have worked several local farmhouses. But let's just say I have been around, I have my battle wounds. Little bit of education for you, a John Deere plow is not as smooth or accommodating as a stripper pole, learned that the hard way, the flesh tearing way, if you catch my drift, and if you don't then I can't help you because I just literally told you what happened. Basically asking if you catch my drift in that instance meant did you comprehend the last sentence. Anyway, say I am dating one chick who by all accounts is a very nice little lady. We just don't share the same interests. Here is how our exchanges go.

Me: "Man this Yugoslavian alt rock group the Niets fucking rock, am I wrong?"
Her: "Ummm, did you shave an asterisk on my dog?"
M: "Did you even get the Big Lebowski reference?"
H: "When I said you could come over, I thought it was because you were going to fix the window you shattered playing baseball in the living room."
M: "You don't like baseball either??!! You suck."
H: Actually I love baseball, my uncle was on the roster of the cardinals for his whole career so I grew up around a lot of the players."
M:......*Grabs clippers and runs through shattered window.*

See? We just don't relate. In reality she doesn't even like baseball, so we don't share that many interests at all. How long can you limp along like that? Do shared interests really play that large of a part in a relationship? I mean, being willing to go to a game, art show, concert, is not the same as wanting to go, actually being interested in it. So then there is the complete opposite of this scenario, the one that shares all of the same interests but you are afraid might stab you in your sleep.

Me: "Hey that new exhibit is opening next weekend in the city, did you want to go check it out?"
Her: "Already marked it on the calendar, I have been looking forward to it since his last show in Paris...Your eyes look delicious."
M: "What was that last part?"
H: "Oh I said I am going to do the dishes....our love is like a salami and I am the casing."
M: "Sorry I missed the last part again."
H: "I said our love is like a salami and I am the casing."
M: "Oh yeah you are totally the casing, I am like the inside, a mish mash of meat producty goodness, and you keep it all together, you little intestinal lining you. High five!!!" *high five turns into chest bump which leads to the dirty bird*

I know that things don't have to be so extreme and the correct answer is find a balance, but that's just how I live sister. Balls to the wall, (this is actually very painful and awkward thing to do, especially with a running start) grip it and rip it, thrust it till you bust it, gargle till you snargle...wait..what? Say that these two extremes are your choices. Girl that is like,

"Wow I would love to go to that art show I know that guy's work."

Or girl who is like,

"Art? I don't get it, who'sa whattie?"

Girl who says,

"How was your day?"

or girl who says,

"Did you know when you sleep you don't even budge, even when there is a cold steel machete against your adam's apple, hee hee, it's so cute."

Is fear of sleep mutilation worth the fact that she knows the entire discography to your favorite Guatamalean Children's choir? Is the fact that you don't fear sleep mutilation worth the fact that she is kind of boring and won't play baseball with you in the living room? Questions to ponder my little saplings, questions that may never be answered, we may just be to small to grasp such complex metaphysical quagmires. Giggidy Giggidy....or maybe just keep them both around therefore creating the perfect balance..goo.....

Art stuff

2009-04-28T10:30:00.000-07:00

May seems to be a big art month out here in my hood. Lots of good stuff going on.

May 1st at Gallery 1988 in San Francisco
May 7th at Fecal Face

May 7th at 5024SF

May 9th at Whitewalls
http://www.ianmjohnson.com/

May 9th at Shooting Gallery

Not in my area but if you are around these check em out.

OPENING RECEPTION:
SATURDAY, MAY 2ND, 8-11PM

EXHIBITION DATES:
MAY 2ND - MAY 30TH, 2009

In his show Ego, Addiction, and Other Bedtime Stories,

Sam Flores

Whoa that's a big line up

Edit: Something crazy, blah, blah, something one person finds funny, blaaaaah. There that's more like one of my normal entries. Sorry for not including this part earlier.

Texts From Last Night

2009-04-28T10:29:00.000-07:00

Oh man this site is awesome. The whole site is just funny text messages people have gotten. Along the same lines as Fuck My Life, but usually just dealing with drunken antics. It's good stuff, trust me, would a man with a free candy sign and a creepy van with extremely tinted windows mislead you or harm you in anyway?
http://www.textsfromlastnight.com/

I spend a lot of time on the internet during the day, I really should just keep track of all of the sites that I go to and share all of the links with you . Are you guys interested in Serbian watermelon carvings or pictures of diseased Porcupines that favor their left legs when they hobble?

See that's why we can't share things, it's because of looks like that. I get the same look when I test out the sneeze guard at salad bars. If it's doing it's job then, no harm, no foul. Don't judge me, I do this for your sake when I spot a weakness or an opening that is large enough for me to stick my head under, I inform the proper pimple faced teenager that modifications must be made. They usually have to take the salad bar apart so I can get my head out from underneath the guard and then refill whatever food source I had been rifling through with my face, but in the end I think that everyone learns a valuable lesson. Like last time I learned that I should make sure to get stuck above something better than baby corn, ugggh I have had enough of that to last me a lifetime. I must have consumed the equivalent of 90 corn toddlers that day, it only took them three minutes to free my head, but I work fast when I see something I want.

Here are some quotes from the site that tickled my fancy and made me spontaneously drop it like it was hot.

"(570): I woke up this morning in a strange bed with a kid with an accent playing with my feet.

Labels: (570)"

Such great imagery, I can just imagine slowly opening your eyes. "Whoa, who's bed is this, what in the? who the?" *Strange child with accent smiles as he grabs your big toe.*

"(317): I swear to god I'm with a high end prostitute right now and shes the most interesting person I've ever met. She just took me in to share an evening.
(317): And as an added bonus she seems to have gotten a blood stain out of my favorite t-shirt

Labels: (317)"

Haha, how did they get to the let me clean the bloodstain out of your shirt part, does she dry clean as well?

"(202): Dude, I woke up at my ex's house. I am spooning her half naked roommate. There is a pizza on my shoulder. I need you to come pick me up.

Labels: (202)"

Just so many good ones, go check it out, tell them Sancho sent you. They will act like they don't know what that means but just stay persitant and flail your arms while you say it.

New Year's Resolution

2009-04-21T11:38:00.001-07:00

I came up with a New Year's Resolution the other night. It came about while I was just having a discussion about a hypothetical double murder involving a clown and an unborn child. Sooo hypothetically speaking say that I knocked up a clown. An unattractive clown, a borderline carny with bad feet and a couple extra pounds. One that I can't look at without feeling disgusted, yet still slept with. Say that such a crazy thing would happen. Say that maybe the only thing that she had going for her was the fact that she was a clown and I had clown at the top of my "Things To Do List." This clown is crazy, dirty, not attractive, just not the kind of person that you want to be locked down to for the rest of your life. I don't want to have to tell the young child, " I hate your stupid clown mother and her stupid clown face. Her damn honking nose and rainbow wigs strewn across the bedroom floor, she makes me sick Timmy!!! Sick!!!" Timmy would say some shit like, "Then why would you bang her you fucking weirdo?" I would mutter some stuff under my breath, curse my "Things To Do List" and say, "Get your shit ready Timmy I am sure your mom and her 45 friends will pull up in their car soon, you don't want to miss the freakshow they are going to be putting on at the bowling alley later." I am sure Timmy would hop up and click his clown shoes together, then start collecting his balloon animal materials and ask if I want to see an illusion. I would just roll my eyes, maybe flip him off, who knows how to react to a half clown seedling? Not me, that's for sure.

So, faced with this hypothetical situation what is one to do? There is no way I am living that life my friend, no clown baby or visitation rights for me. I want the masked freaks as far away as possible...while I feel that way now that I crossed that off my list. Ohhh here come the looks, don't act like you don't have a list and that clown was not on there right above Cloris Leachman. Oh? I am the only one? Well I guess I won't tell you what else was on the list. Just don't judge me sister. The not judging thing is also a sort of side resolution. I can no longer cast judgement on anyone because I slept with a dirty clown....Hypothetically speaking of course. So yeah you want to sleep with Serbian midgets who wear bear skin caps and harpoon retarded blind whales on the weekend? Be my guest friend, do what you want, hey it's a free world, I will not judge. I gave that right up with my poor judgement. You could literally slap a senior citizen smear a herpes infected diaper on a nun's face, spraypaint a swatizka on a baby labrador and all I could say to you is do your thing buddy, if that's what you feel like doing, I will not judge. It's kind of like how I can't criticize anyone's driving ability because of a recent driving mishap involving two parked cars. That's another story though, let me just add if you can get your car to move forward or park without hitting anything, you are a damn fine driver in my eyes. Every time I park without hitting something it's a good day now. I shout mission accomplished and spike my keys on the ground when I get outside the car.

Back to the situation at hand. I figured there were two ways to escape this, suicide or murder, hypothetically speaking of course. I came to the conclusion I like my life fine without the clown and the clown seedling in it, so if they were gone that would be the best scenario. I got into this whole thing about the ensuing Dateline case. The Clown Killer, this Thursday on Dateline. Hopefully my story is told by Keith Morrison. The dude is fucking awesome, creepy, and has the best phrasing ever.

"It was a twisted tale...the kind of tale that makes your skin crawl, a tale of disgust, clown banging, an expectant clown mother.....and murder....or was it? It all started in an idyllic scene of young love...or so it seemed." God damn I love that creeper...or do I? Yeah I seriously do..or do..ok sorry. Are you wondering what my new year's resolution was? Did you remember that's how this all began, it's ok I forgot too...or..did..must stop Keith impersonations. So, me and a friend got to talking, yes I do have these types of conversations with other people...sometimes, when I can get someone to settle down and enjoy the surprise tea party I went to great lengths to set up in this alley that I "invited" them down. We got to talking about how the friends, neighbors, and coworkers of the accused get a little camera time to give some insight into the character of the suspect. Usually it is something like (neighbor standing on their driveway) "He was quiet, but friendly, I would have never suspected that he could do such a thing. That's how it usually goes. What I came to realize is, my character interviews would not go as smoothly. People would say,

"Oh jesus christ that dude was a freak. I knew something was wrong with that crazy bastard."

"He used to just come into work and just glare at us, always fiddling with a clump of rainbow hair and muttering under his breath, I think I heard him say honk, honk, and then whisper I'll show u an illusion clown!!"

"Yeah that guy could totally have done that."

It was running through this scenario that I realized I needed to make some changes in my life. Most people have resolutions like lose weight, quit smoking, stop stealing your neighbor's tires for your swing in the backyard, you know normal stuff. I realized I need a drastic change and a complete reworking of my life. My new Years resolution is......that if and when I am a suspect in a hypothetical clown double murder, people will not say they expected that I could be responsible for it. Simple enough..or is it?

I actually have no clue about how to go about this change. Should I actively embrace clown culture, cover my cubicle walls in clown paraphenallia? Make them think I love them so much there is no way I could rob the world of one? Act normal and kind to everyone I see hiding any hypothetical muderous intent? Stop doing that thing where you lunge at people and act like you are going to punch them at the copy machine? Look, all I know is that along with setting up a good backstory to diffuse any legal battles, diminish intent, create good character witnesses, this could improve my overall well being. There will probably be a lot less coffee spilled on the carpet if I stop lunging at coworkers too. This is a win-win, it may even be the start of something bigger. A religion? Teaching others ways to live their life so that people would never expect you to be capable of killing a clown. Only good can come from this, let's set this year off right. Everything will be awesome this year....or so it seems.

I should start writing again

2009-04-21T11:37:00.004-07:00

It's true, doesn't mean it will actually happen but it is the troof. Shush shush, I can hear your moans of protest, I can see your eyes rolling, oh my god are you having a seizure!!? Oh no you were really reacting to my threat of writing....asshole. So for some reason I came to this realization right before I am leaving work. Actually I might get my best realizations at around this time every day. Yesterday I realized that my pants were unzipped right before I left for home. The day before that I realized if I move very quietly and I can observe co-workers in their natural environments for approximately 17 minutes and 24 seconds before they notice me. Next time I will not start humming my secret spy theme until the mission is complete. It was either that or my habit of loudly smelling things that got me caught. I am a sniffer what can I say?

Sooo...how ya been? I will nod my head and say stuff like "hmmm," "what??," "no way!!," "OMG" (I will actually say the letters,) maybe throw in a "that bitch" as well until you finish whatever inane anecdote you think I care about. Are you done yet? Now ask me, ask me!! Well..thank you for asking. What a complex question that is. So many ins and outs, so many harrowing tales of late nights spent hiding in laundromats, so many prescriptions to keep the voices to a nice low murmur.

I guess if I had to describe my state of being in one statement it would be, I am glorious. Ok, not really but "glorious" is my power word according to my psychic. Whenever I get one of my panic attacks or feel the cloudies (that's what we call sad feelings) I just have to repeat my power word over and over until the world is sunny side up. Apparently things will turn around for me soon enough. Clarice , sorry madam Clarice, said something about ruling a mythic race of frog people, and we will inherit the earth and rage war against the humanoids. I think I was going to be a staff sergeant, and it had something to do with power obtained from an unknown toddler, supposedly I will know it when I see it and I have to extract the power with this power extractor I had to buy. It kind of looks like a take out bag from Burger King to me, but hey I have never seen a power extractor and Madame Clarice knows what she is talking about. I forget what else happens, all I know is it involves a crown made from a hallowed out pumpkin, I have to send $100 a month to Madame Clarice and my reign will last 1000 years. So I guess that's something to look forward to. I won't ask you to pick sides immediately, but I will also not hesitate to put a humanoid on his back. Rat-a-tat-tat. You have been warned...

2009-04-21T11:37:00.001-07:00

She doesn’t know that I am a transformer. Feigning friendship, emotions bubbling below the surface. Cool to the touch, flames coarse beneath the façade. Undercover, waiting for the perfect segue. Pointless pontifications about long rewritten futures are heard by few, cared about by less.

In an endless blackness we built a path. Placing memories we ventured out for years together. Cobblestones and pebbles, emotions and turmoil, we were always moving forward together. Now the road has run out of gravel, out of the emotional building blocks that we used to tread on. Flinging them forward they fall into nothing, no sure footing walking on air. Staring out at the desired destination, the only option left. Stare at what was supposed to be, from the place where it all ended. Construction has halted, the project decommissioned, precariously clinging to the last cobblestone. Fearful of that next step, to walk away from what we built, to admit it is over, that the road leads to nowhere. I used to see kids at the end of the road, a house, a dog, a marriage, and a life. The lights that led the way have dimmed, snuffed out by the present. The future swept away, reshuffled, somewhere out in that darkness.

Spinning wheels in place, bandaging wounds with virgin sacrifice, archaic behavior from years gone by. Reverting to previous states of barbarism to shake off the confines of a collapsed vision. Bathing in the affection of innocents. Blind children unable to see the darkness that fills my heart. Unknowingly treading down a new path to their destruction. A circular course that keeps leading me back to the end. To the end of the only road I cared about completing. I shatter hearts and use the pieces to edge back into the dark. The cobblestones replaced by glass, pebbles, with nails. The pieces slice, but I keep moving forward. They crunch beneath my feet, but their cries are mere muffled protestations. Barely audible, not in the least bit halting. Their tears make the road slick but don’t stop my tepid footprints from sullying more, more roads, same path, more innocents used up and thrown away.

Armored up, impenetrable chain mail, heart encased, protected from all attackers. On the offensive, lunging at targets too lethargic to have a chance at escape. Blinded by lies, by affronts of normality, stunned with false charm. Pierced as soon as they get within striking range.

Round the track again, hoping the expenditure of other emotions will spark something else out in that dark. A small blip, a new destination, draped in these bodies there is no light. Pile the corpses around the heart; build a wall to stop the hurt. Inflict pain on others to lash out at the one. Senseless killings, always missing the intended target. Creating new victims, solving no problems. Disturbed circles, sedimentary movements, my feet like the water, building the walls of the rut higher, circles that never get to the point.

Blind dates

2009-04-21T11:36:00.002-07:00

So, blind dates huh? What the hell is happening here? I haven't been on a date in a long while. Followers of my writing will know it is because I was serving time in Arkansas for public indecency and two additional charges of assault with a pelvic thrust. I had no idea there was a legal code for that offense but you learn something every time you are arrested. So if you are ever in Arkansas and hear a police officer say, "We have a code 258C. Request immediate back up and some rubber gloves." You should immediately drop everything you are doing and follow that officer, because if you are like me, your hips don't lie....or something.

Not being in the game for that long stretch of time has made me question if things are still the same as they were before. Do girls still automatically leave when you launch into sonnets about your love for amputees or your insatiable desire to roll anything and everyone in a mixture of cornflakes and maple syrup? (everything and I mean everything is better this way, trust me) Do girls still like it when you kick their chair and run away? Smack the back of their head and throw crayons at them? I have so many great ideas on how the execution of this date will go, I just have to wait to get the permits for the wild game birds cleared and we should be good to go.

Here are a couple of scenarios:

This one includes the magical and sexy art of balloon animals.

Me- (Balloons in hand) "Now tell me what your favorite animal is and I shall make it in balloon form. Thus cementing our future together as one."
Scared date- "umm..."
Me- "Sooo what is your favorite animal?"
Scared Date- "Umm..."
Me- "Please say sword."

Scenario 2

This one involves a three act play, several costume changes and 2 live vultures.

Act one- Secure all the exits while frolicking around menacingly to the soundtrack of footloose.
(costume change, exit stage right, reappear stage left in puff of smoke, but now dressed as a preacher)

Act two- Pelvic thrusts and choreographed dance routine to Rod Stewart's "Maggie May." "If you think I'm sexy" makes to much sense, and we want to show that we are avantegarde so "Maggie May" it is. Plus "Maggie May" goes well with both pelvic thrusts and rhythmic gymnastics ribbons. And there will be fluttering ribbons, oh yes, there will be beautifully fluttering pretty sparkley ribbons.....and pelvic thrusts...lots of em....so many you could be charged for assault with a pelvic thrust...but it's worth it.
(costume change, exit stage right, reappear suspended above the stage in a mermaid outfit, get yelled at by the restaurant for tying cables to their ceiling fans and for endangering other patrons by swinging above their heads in a mermaid costume, climb down, try and explain your art, realize you are missing a vulture and panic, shout vulture's name while looking under people's tables, emerge from table to discover the date has fled, exit stage right and cry)

Act three- Lay on ground mumbling the words to, "Endless Love." Reach out and try and grab the hand of the bus boys as they step around and over you clearing tables. "My endlessssssss love..."
(curtain drops, since there is no curtain jump to feet yell "Tah Daaaaah" and then run out the building before they make you pay for anything.)

These are just rough outlines, I haven't decided which one to go for, I am sure when it's time for the show it will end up very differently.

I'll Follow the Sun

2009-04-21T11:36:00.001-07:00

One day you'll look to see I've gone.
For tomorrow may rain, so I'll follow the sun.
Some day you'll know I was the one.
But tomorrow may rain, so I'll follow the sun.
And now the time has come
And so my love I must go.
And though I lose a friend,
In the end you will know, oooh.
One day you'll find that I have gone.
For tomorrow may rain, so I'll follow the sun.
Yes, tomorrow may rain, so I'll follow the sun.

Ryuichi Ogino

2009-04-21T11:35:00.002-07:00

Ogi in the house setting up the installation for his latest art show

Fuck, I really, really, really, want to buy a new piece from this dude. Ryuichi Ogino or as I call him Ogi is a dope ass Asian-Asian artist. As in he was born in Japan. I call him Ogi not because of our storied past of love and turmoil (that's why I call him cheating bastard) but because when I first heard of him that is the name he was going by. It was a childhood nickname that he just stuck with. A little while back he decided to get all grown up and start using his real name. I did the same thing a couple of years back, because after awhile you just can't have people address you as Sissy Bedwetter the Lord of Stink. It's not professional and I tried to tell my Boss to stop but they all just surrounded me and started chanting "Sissy Bedwetter!!" Which just isn't a very good chant because it's too long and it doesn't flow very well, but yeah try telling them that and they just roll their eyes.

Here is a profile of Ogi taken from his website http://www.ogigraphics.com/

"Ryuichi Ogino (OGI)
Born and raised in Tokyo, Ogi relocated to the Bay Area and received a BFA in Illustration from the California College of Arts & Crafts (CCAC) in 2004 only to realize that his passion is not in illustrating.

His works are diverse and incorporate a variety of mediums (from handmade paper-clay toy figures, acrylic paints, wood, lined paper, and canvas, to digital renderings). To pin down his style would be to minimize its scope as it merges genres.

Now back in Japan, he exhibits internationally, moving between Tokyo and the West Coast. He has more recently shown his works at Project, Rean, Giant Robot, Receiver Gallery, Compound, White Walls, and Park Life."

Here is the piece that I want

This piece looks super classy to me. It looks like it would fit into a clean well designed modern house. The streamlined futuristic kind of spot, you know the one level, all wood floor, lots of glass type houses I am talking about? Just super stylish and sleek. This shit looks grown up to me. I think Ogi nailed it on this piece. A lot of the time an Ogi piece has one aspect that I don't like as much, maybe wished it was cleaner there, don't like that part, that sort of thing, on this piece, I like every aspect. I like the black panel, the clean lines of bright colors extending out. The signature Ogi girl, the cleaner skull compared to some of his other work, and even the small details are pulled off perfectly. It is currently still available for purchase as part of the "Blender" group show in L.A. at the Cerasoli-Lebasse gallery. The preview work can be seen here http://www.cerasoli-lebasse.com/current/ryuichi_ogino.html Check out there pictures because they are larger and you can see the small details that are just masterfully done. The small drips of paint, the clouds, the work that he did behind the skull. I am in love with this piece. Everything goes together so well and it just exudes class and modernity to me. Good job Ogi.

Ogi also does these sculpts so here are some examples of those.
These are two I have

Here are some that are free standing which I do not have

Pretty awesome though

and here is some more of his work

I am just a big fan of his aesthetic. It could be the Japanese in me but I like his girls, his robots, his colors. The way that he composes his pieces with the separate elements creating a whole. I like the spareness of the canvas, the images popping out and becoming the focus. I just think it has a strong sense of design and it just looks clean and appeals to me.

The rest of my Ogi pieces

Blog with pics of him setting up for "Blender" http://dailydujour.com/2008/10/09/ryuichi-ogino-installation-for-blender-1011/
Tons of his work here http://www.ogigraphics.com/frontpage.html
His blog http://ogi.cbc-net.com/
Myspace http://www.myspace.com/ogigraphics
Old Prints of his can be found here http://www.gallerynucleus.com/
Shirts and wallets here http://poketo.com/shop/archives/40
Print here http://poketo.com/shop/archives/651
Tableware here http://poketo.com/shop/archives/459
and here http://poketo.com/shop/archives/458

You Send Me

2009-04-21T11:35:00.001-07:00

Another song comparison. This time "You Send Me" which most people think of as Sam Cooke's song. It's pretty hard to argue against that. But as many of you know I am able to argue against anything. Just last week in court I was fighting the fight against societal restrictions that most people think are "common sense." I laugh heartily in the face of common sense and demand the right to dance at any time, in any state of undress, and in anyone's livingroom.

I think I have some of the court transcript.

Defendant- "These my dear sir are the very principles that the constitution was biiirthed from.
Lawyer for the Prosecution- "Did you just say birthed from?"
D- "I did good sir, for as the people of this fine courtroom know, the constitution plopped out of lady liberty's womb and was caught in the great hands of a little chamber maid known as justice."
LFTP- "I think you mean mid-wife and please get back in the witness box."
D- "I apologize but I feel separated from my people, the people that make up this great country, like you madam, how are you this fine morrow."
LFTP- "Witness box, you, get back in it, don't kiss her hand and "this fine morrow makes no sense."
D- "We will agree to disagree on that matter but I think you will find it a hard fought battle to prove this is not a fine morrow sir."
LFTP- "My argument is not with the adjective "fine" but the use of "morrow." Look it doesn't matter, just answer the question. Where were you on the evening of June 10th 2006?
D- "Let me scan my mental rolodex good sir this may take a moment. I haven't rebooted in awhile, if you know what I mean."
LFTP- "I have no idea what you mean please just answer the question."
D- "The 10th of June in the year of our lord two thousand and six."
LFTP- "Yes, that would be another way of saying it, stop grinning and looking so self satisfied and just answer the question."
D- "If I could I would like to perform a sonnet."
LFTP- "Does this sonnet answer the question of where you were on June 10th 2006?"
D- "No but it's quite good if I do say so myself. It was inspired by the water lilies of Niagara and the seasonal drift of their petals down the Snake River."
LFTP- "Geographically that's not possible. Let me answer the question for you, according to several witnesses, I am talking a whole school bus full of children, parents waiting to pick up their kids, the plaintiff, basically everyone says the same thing. They saw you enter the Crawford residence. Wearing nothing but cut off jean shorts and a hairnet..."
D- "I would like to call a witness."
LFTP- "Let me finish and you can't call witnesses right now anyway. Do you deny the fact that you entered the residence, proceeded to put an Ace of Base cd into their cd player and then continually spun the plaintiff around in her wheelchair, while shouting I love the night life?"
D- "I think the use of the word spun is objectionable, I prefer the word danced."
LFTP- "Ok did you "dance" with the plaintiff?"
D- "It's kind of hard to dance when your partner won't get on her feet. Am I wrong? Get your rhythm shoes on m'lady."
LFTP- "Please don't point at the plaintiff. She is a disabled 87 year old grandmother, who was relaxing in her home, before you barged in."
D- "We will agree to disagree, because what I saw was a special lady friend who wanted to get down with the get down. If you know what I mean, and I think you do Constable"
LFTP- "I think I can rest my case your honor."
D- "You do that good sir."
LFTP- "I was talking to the judge."
D- "Yeah so was I."
LFTP- "I don't think you were."
D- "You my angel of civil service are good, I really wasn't, you are making me blush. So you free later?"
LFTP- "No."
D- "Well I want to leave you with some words of inspiration because my love for you is undying and wrapped in fuchsia flowers of adoration."
LFTP- "Ummm.."
D- *Mouthes the words "Call me" as he is taken away by the baliff.*

Ok so maybe that didn't work out as I had hoped. Sorry for that, on to the music. First up the one that most people think of when you say "You send me." The OG up in here. This is a great example of some pure vocalizations by one of the best voices in history. It sounds clean, poppy, it's sweet. I mean sweet in that sappy kind of nostalgic going to the hop throw back vibe it gives. I think a lot of that has to do with the backing vocals. The random choruses that backed solo artists on songs like this always makes me think of a Dean Martin or Perry Como type era and genre. Sam's is more upbeat than a love ballad from them but the backing vocals have that feel. I am not sure how much I like that sound, I usually think it's too much, it leads any song towards fields of corniess, Especially when you have a voice that is as good as Sam's the backing vocals only serve as distractions. It works with this song and it wokrs for the Deans and Perrys it's just an added layer that I think would not be missed if it was not there. Case in point the second version of this song. Otis handles it by himself. The stand alone vocals have more emotion to them and it changes the feel of the song. Listen to the Sam one first.

Sam Cooke- You Send Me
http://www.zshare.net/download/203020036533aa85/

In Sam's version I feel like the protagonist of the song has already gotten the subject of the song's affections. The You send me's are directed at someone in a relationship. It is just saying this is how you make me feel and I am happy that I am with you. The overall song is happy, vocals, arrangement, backing chorus. It is an uplifting affirmation of the love and feelings that the subject gives Sam. It's the fairytale, read the lyrics at face value, version. Now listen to Otis.

Otis Redding- You Send Me
http://www.zshare.net/audio/20301957dea2edca/

Otis' version is heartbreaking to me. His version to me is the protagonist saying these are the feelings that you give me, but you are not attainable. Something like that. He loves her, wants to marry her, but the way that he sings the lyrics with a hint of sadness makes me think that he has not yet had his affections returned. This is what you do to me, I wish I did the same thing to you. This is what you do to me, I wish I could be in your life, instead of watching you from afar. The arrangement is stripped down, slowed a bit, the lack of the chorus vocals is noticeable because in the Sam version it provides a sugary backbone to the song. Here there is only Otis, emoting with such heartfelt delivery it is palpable through the speakers. Otis' voice is gruffer than Sam's the pretty pop stylization of Sam is countered by the gutteral bluesey tone of Otis. I think Otis pulls more out of the song but there is no way you can say Sam's version is bad. I notice that I am leaning more towards the sadder heartbroken version of songs. Even interpreting the songs in a negative way when maybe that is delving too deep.

But I think realistically you can support the argument that Otis' version is about yearning more than having attained. The way he approached the lyrics just doesn't sound happy to me. It stands in sharp contrast to Sam and it creates two versions that are equally excellent and manage to go down two divergent paths. Do I really have to choose? Since I am in a sad mood tonight, (anyone get that reference?) I am going to go with Otis. The reasons being the way that he transforms a song that I never thought could be reimagined. I never would have thought this song could be sad but Otis slapped the sadness on it with a quickness. Read the lyrics, how can that song be sad? Otis just said, "I'll make anything sad mufuckas, try me." I wonder how that studio session went.

"Heey Otis buddy got this happy little diddy for you to sing."
"Let me see it."
"Happy right? Such happy happy lyrics awwww love, it's such a wonderful thing."
"Ok, Let's do this."
"I can't see through my tears Otis, you bastard, you magnificent bastard, how did you do that?"

I am pretty sure that's how it went. Just for fliping the script and doing it effectivley he gets the nod. So I guess that's two sad versions that win a row, someone needs some Prozac.

Oh and when I was looking at the lyrics to "You send me" I saw at least two other versions. One was by Taylor Hicks and another was by Aretha Franklin. Kind of interested in hearing those, but can they even come close to fucking with these versions? Aretha could be thrown in the mix but Taylor Hicks? Ha, I scoff in your general direction. Someone listen to them and tell me how they are.

The Great Pretender

2009-04-21T11:34:00.003-07:00

I have been obsessed with records lately. Not records like, most jellybeans consumed while simultaneously knitting and riding a water buffalo. Although I did hold that record for two weeks. A special fuck you to Larry Bicklestein. I know he was doping, grace like that is just not natural. Anyway, I am talking about vinyl, the musical kind of record, the kind that is filled with wonderment and fabulousity. Although, I guess Larry's record contains both of those aspects as well. But, that's beside the point. So, I have a pretty wide range of musical tastes. My record collection ranges from Austrian electro clogging to four full records of just the sounds of a badger being tazered and an albino banging two pots together. I will make you a copy of the badger one, it's fucking fantastic.

Today we are going to look at two versions of the same song and decide who did it better. This is a totally subjective thing. Obviously tastes differ, moods differ, number of restraining orders differs. The music that sounds good to you depends on lots of things. What kind of hat you are wearing, whether or not you are in a skipping mood. Are you wearing any pants? That sort of thing. For me personally when I don't have pants on I always gravitate towards Polka. You might be more of a pantless samba kind of person. What I am trying to say is there is no right or wrong answer. These are just opinions.

Today's challenge is between Sam Cooke and the Platters. These are two of my most favorite things in the world of music. I have kind of been on a Soul/R&B/Oldies thing lately.

The Platters are responsible for some of my favorite songs and they possess some of my favorite voices in music. Their song, "Smoke Gets In Your Eyes" makes my list for top five best songs ever. That is the only song that I can definitively put on that list. I think of other artists to put on there but it becomes hard for me to pick a song. That might have to be another entry. When listening to this song listen to the power of his voice, the control, the melody. He kills it, it's drenched in emotion, it soars when it needs to, to me it is just a perfect example of how to sing. I think the orchestration is done well, the backing is not overbearing, I like the fact that when he sings he sounds like a man. I feel that too much modern R&B sounds whiny. The dudes sound like whiny bitches, the runs sound more feminine, the music is more corny. Someone could argue that this sounds like old people music, and they could be right, that would be that opinion thing again. But I think this is just more pure, more timeless, it was a great song then and it will always be a great song. Here is the song and a link where you can download it if you want.

http://www.zshare.net/audio/199212021f0262d8/

Sam Cooke to me is vocal perfection. If I could marry a voice I would marry his, I have actually proposed to it several times. I think it's out of my league though, that bitch won't even return my calls. I don't even know what else to say about his voice. Sam is just...he is just the shit. My favorite. Oh yeah so a little warning, it is pretty fucking hard for me to pick a non-Sam version of a song as a winner if Sam has sung it. Listen to his version of "Love Me" when he sings the words "Love Me" I just swoon, am I wrong?

http://www.zshare.net/download/19922152034dfd95/ If you don't know about Sam you should. Check his wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sam_Cooke, buy his music, the guy was great. Basically invented soul, wrote a lot of his own music, had his own label. He was amazing, sorry, I am gushing. But look at this guy, he was one smooth bastard. I will be talking a lot more about him so don't you worry.

Alright, so on to the comparison part.

http://www.zshare.net/audio/199227965eed9ea4/
This was the first version of this song I heard. I really liked it. It seems like the Platters approached it as the singer is pretending to be happy even when he is singing. The arrangement is lively the horns or trumpets portray the boastfulness of the singer. The bravado that he has to wrap himself in to sell the fact that he is not heartbroken. He tries to convince himself that by acting like he is fine he will be. You can catch glimpses of how he is really feeling in the way he sings but the song seems more upbeat to me. At least in comparison to Sam's. Sam's version is way toned down.

http://www.zshare.net/download/2017049045530135/

The arrangement is more minimal and subdued. Sam himself sings as if he knows he is not fooling anyone and you can feel the heartbreak in his lyrics and voice. I think it is far more effective in evoking the heartbreak of the song but it really depends on which way you want to take it. Should the Great Pretender be pretending while he sings, should the song be continuing to pretend? Or should it be an acknowledgement of the farce that the singer is perpetuating? Yeah you can go either way and I honestly have a hard time choosing which path I prefer. You would have a hard time agruing either song is a bad song or rendition.

In the end though I think that Sam's version is prettier, more emotional, and I like the arrangement more. With it's stripped down arrangement and softer vocals it makes the Platters arrangement seem overblown, like it has been turned up too loud. Sam's voice is allowed to be the star, his sadness more prominent over the more minimal arrangement. You focus more on his singing, the lyrics, and the emotions come through more without the blaring horns and backing vocals. But again, the Platters version is a totally legitimate approach to this song as well. That's what I like about these comparisons, the way that the artists can change the entire feel of the song, create a different view, feeling, emotion. The same Lyrics can be turned around and say something completley different with a different arrangement, vocal refrain, and style. I told you Sam would win. Anyone else want to weigh in?

2009-04-21T11:34:00.001-07:00

My Grandma is 90 years old. She says that it's hard to dance to "I saw her face" by the Beatles, who are being played by three 50 year old guys in standing in a back yard. One is wearing a Hawaiian shirt, he has short gray hair that is spiked. Another one is dressed in a black and silver bowling shirt his hair looks like Blossom's dad's. They play their instruments well. They do not sound like Paul Mcartney though, which they had jokingly said they were going to. My Aunt screams play some motown. They say "I don't think we should try that. Their specialty is the Beatles with a sprinkling of Chuck Berry and Richie Valens. 50's electric guitar centric. Their skill was not harmonizing or singing.

My Grandma and I awkwardly sway, the grass is uneven so I hold her steady. We dance like we are at an all white 80's prom the era where rhythm and grace sort of floundered. Finger snapping arm swaying synth pop, kind of moves. The whole family is up, a bunch of awkward adults trying to find a rhythm, moving to the riffs of the pretend beatles. They all have smiles, the sounds of the music lofts above the fences scattering into the neighborhood air. We join the family circle that forms when weird families dance, and I resist the urge to start b-boying and or getting my eagle on. Grandma seems to be slowing down, so I tell her we should sit and wait for a slow song. I guide her back to the table where she sits down and says "Oyshakoda." Which is the Japanese equivalent of "Upsadaisey."

Rounds of adults occupy the chairs, leaving and returning from the dance floor. The band plows through some Jan and Dean, some Chuck Berry. The sound of several conversations peppers the songs. They start on a slow song and I grab Grandma and lead her back out to the grass. I ask her if her and Grandpa used to go out dancing. She told me they had. I asked her what they danced to. My Grandma says, don't you have those cds Grandpa gave you. I did have them, after he passed, when we were cleaning out a storage space they had I took a large collections of his cds. The playlist on these things is crazy romantic. I never saw my Grandpa as romantic. The Grandpa I knew was always kind of gruff, like a grumpy bear. I liked the picture of them swaying to Louis Armstrong. I could see them dancing cheek to cheek in a smoke filled danceroom. I ask my Grandma who she liked to dance to. She says Perry Como. I ask her what about Frank? She says he is alright, but then throws Bing Crosby in the mix. I have to disagree and say Frank is better than Bing, but i know she thinks Perry is hot so I understand why he places higher. I ask her about Dean Martin who at points I like better than Frank and she just labels him ok as well. We go back to circling in silence. Small steps in the cool night time air, a large tree casting shadows on the ground. I look at the rest of my family and grin, we move closer to my Uncle who's birthday it is and join their circle. The pretend Beatles play us out.

2009-04-21T11:32:00.001-07:00

I have a bunch of private entries that are super emo and probably scary. All of that talk of beheading sea horses and eloping with Ecuadorian Tattoo artists can kind of freak people out. It's my life though and if you can't accept Felipe' as your new son in law then that's your loss, Mother. Because he makes the best pigs in a blanket this side of the equator, he is also one of the foremost experts on urban scuba diving. Don't expect an invite on our next expedition Mother, don't you dare!! That's just like her all hating and shit and then the next week you find her shacked up with the piano teacher, who she said was creepy. She did immediately follow that statement with an, "I like creepy" and a weird sort of giggle, but still.

Anyway I am finding it hard to write and not have it devolve into tear soaked soliloquies about loss and love. Since I have to maintain my reputation as rugged rebel teen idol with matinée looks and a jawline like Dudley Do right, I can not allow these emotions to spill over into the paparazzi's laps. It would ruin my rep and then I would only get scripts and casting calls for the mangina dialouges, and frankly I have had enough mangina to last me a life time. I still think I have some from 86 shrink wrapped in my boudoir.

Not really sure what this entry is about just feel guilty that I have been writing just for myself, although that is probably better than stuff like this. Where I force jokes, act like everything is fine, and cry behind my mask. My Shirley Mcclaine mask, oooh!!! Snuck one in there, because a Shirley Mcclaine mask is funny. Except to Shirley, she probably thinks it's weird. But she also thinks its weird if you hand deliver postcards to her everyday or you try and dig a tunnel into her living room. That was a fun conversation.

"Maybe if you clearly marked gas lines before I started digging we wouldn't have had a problem, oh I was supposed to do that? I wasn't even supposed to start digging on your property in the first place? Well how else does one make a tunnel into your living room huh? Answer THAT Miss McClaine!! Ok, no need for any police presence, put the phone down, I will abort the mission. I accept full blame and responsibility."

Then I started to call for my chopper to come whisk me away. But I don't really have a chopper, and I don't really have a walkie talkie to call them with either. So the scene was basically me standing on Shirley's street, making walkie talkie noises into my hand.

"Krrsh, ten four we need an immediate evacuation, the silver fox has spotted the hen, I repeat, the, no, no, the silver fox, *whispering* Shiiiirley. The jig is up mon fraire I need an air lift immediately. What? Oh yeah if you have the any of the blue ones I would like that if not the blue then the red, dude there is totally a red otter pop, trust me, you don't wanna make that bet."

Annnd that's what you call parole violation, stalking, terrorist threats, improper storage of animal remains, I thought my hat looked good, and digging without permits. You win this round Silver fox, I have learned from this and while hone my skills. The tunnel will be built.

Yeah that didn't really work, for me. Who wants to read some depressing poetry?

I just want to Dance Daddy

2009-04-21T11:30:00.000-07:00

People say I should be a writer. I was just making fun of dancers because it is a pretty hard thing to become successful at and the stability is less than ideal. They dance because, well they just have to dance, it's in them, it is who they are. When they are little they look at their parents and they say,

"Daddy, I just wanna dance."
Then their dad looks at them, shakes his head and says something like,
"Have you thought about going into municipal bonds, how about the tech field, they have great stock options and benefits."

You know why the dad says something like that? One reason is, he is logical, he thinks about the end result of his child trying to make it as a dancer, and he knows that the kid has a very small chance of succeeding at this dream So he says,

"Let's think about this, aren't there some more stable options we can think of Jimmy?"
"No daddy, I just want to dance!!!"
"Hmm well I don't know if that is the wisest decision son, perhaps you should get a college degree first."

We know what Jimmy's answer to this is. Writing is the same thing. Writers have to write. Despite the logical conclusion that they will end up penniless, unread, and depressed. Actually, most start out depressed anyway. Depressed, and in most cases a touch crazy, somehow that tends to help the creative process. This is why I could not be a writer. Not because I am not crazy and depressed, because trust me I have that part down. The reason is I don't have the need to write. This in addition to the fact that what I write is not good. Maybe that would be the main problem. But I don't have the need to be prolific with my writing, I don't have the fire or in other words dat fiyah. I haven't written anything creative in a very long time. I have never written anything good. My friends say it's good, but that's like your mom telling you, you are cool. It's sweet, but don't believe that shit, you aren't cool kid. What are they going to tell me? Step away from the keyboard? No they would just not say anything and that's what the majority of them do. Well most don't read it, but that in itself is saying something. That something is, that my friends are illiterate. Ok maybe they aren't, maybe they just have good taste.

I got 4th place in an essay contest in 3rd grade, honorable mention, that was the highlight of my literary career. I know there is an old entry on here about this same subject, about how I tell don't show, my imagery is flowery and incomprehensible, my skirt is too short and my beat count is off by half a step. I don't infer anything I just straight up lay it on the table, you don't think, well maybe that character is feeling this way because of this and I can tell because of the way he held his coffee cup. No, my character will say,

"Boy I feel like shit because of these inner demons that cause so much turmoil inside of me, and my wife is having an affair, I can't even hold my coffee steady, look at it, it's shaking, trembling because of my inner demons and my struggle with the child abuse I suffered as a rodeo clown in Des Moine, did you hear me when I talked about the inner demon part? Ok good."

You know what writers also do? They craft shit. Like word by word. You know what I do? I just slap the keyboard to make it look I am typing and I call it an abstract expressionist novella. Ok, what I actually do is just let it flow. I don't carefully craft sentences, choosing correct words to carry one point to the other. I just write, for fun, for expression, to take my mind off of other things. I would never expect anyone to want to pay for the stuff that comes from these fingers.

Kind of related, kind of brought up in an earlier entry. Kind of clearly shown in this entry and that would be the defeatist aspect of my personality. I do defeat myself a lot. Probably because I am afraid of failure. If you don't try you can't fail right? When I was little I was in a tennis match. My opponent started to win, so I started fucking around, basically throwing the match. My coach was not happy and he said the following..

"You only did that because you were afraid of losing, so you made it look like you gave up and didn't care and that you beat yourself. Because you were too afraid to try and win and have the possibility of really losing."

He was right and I don't think much has changed since then. Wow, that's pretty fucking sad, since that was probably more than ten years ago. I am my own Dad, you know the one who told Jimmy to go to college. That's what I do to myself. Stability son, that's what it's all about, none of this risk taking writing business. Ok, so the tone kind of shifted on this piece and I feel like if I am going to change I should risk failure more often. this was my old ending, "Because seriously it is like trying to become a dancer. Except even out of shape people think they can write, and their friends are egging them on. So I feel like this is my arena. Random ramblings for free, no deadlines..." I kind of ran myself into a corner on this. I guess I should start researching writing more, not really sure what kind I would do, but yeah, I guess I should at least try and risk failure. Is there like a reader's digest for insane rambly mediocre writers?

2009-04-21T11:27:00.001-07:00

I don't like a lot of things. But there are certain things on a day to day basis that irk me. Like everyday I think to myself why would you do that? What is wrong with you?

A couple example happen on my morning commute. I take the bus and the train everyday. There are just certain things that are common sense and part of the morning or after work commute, these are like guidelines, stuff people should adhere to when commuting. First off, when the bus pulls up, wait for the people that are on the bus to get off first. Bastards start running on the bus into a sea of oncoming traffic. Let them clear out then make your mad dash to your seat. Is that really something people need to be told? Doesn't that just kind of make sense? Apparently not as, some people just have that need to rush on in there, like a retarded salmon, not only going against the current but also against the direction of all the other salmon. You should also not stand right in front of the door when you wait for people to exit. See it kind of works better if you aren't blocking the path of people trying to leave the bus.

Concerning the train part of my commute. My first problem starts with me going down the stairs. There are usually escalators and the unwritten rule is, if you want to just stand there and enjoy the ride stand to the right side. That way people that are in a hurry, or about to miss their train can walk down the left side. It's not a one lane thing going on. It's exactly like the freeway (don't get me started on driving) slow people move to the side. Don't post up in the middle or stand by side with your co-worker and have a nice chat. Also when the train is at the platform and you are in the walking lane, you need to move with a fury. If you were not in my way I would be leaping down like 5 stairs at once and if I miss this train because your are shuffling slowly in front of me, I will consider pushing you down and using your body as an urban surfboard. I will ride you down those stairs and have no remorse if it means I make my rain on time.

Once inside the train I have problems as well. I don't like people who don't move to the inside seat, like oh I am saving this seat for my invisible sense of entitlement. Ok, I understand doing this if you are about to get off and don't want to get boxed in, I actually look for these seats when I get on in the morning because I take a short nap, most people get off before me and I don't want to have to get up to let you out. So you can sort of get a pass from me on this. But what goes along with this and gets no pass from me is the people who put their bags on the seats. Like my luggage needs a seat but you, a human being must stand. That shit bugs me, like this isn't your luxury train car, this is public transportation, put that shit in your lap and clear some space. Also don't spread out like you are relaxing in your hammock reading a paper and take up two seats. Just be mindful of other people. This all seems like common sense but people are assholes, I mean I am an asshole too, but I don't act like I own the train. I may lay my head on your shoulder while I nap, or suddenly pop awake and shout "Don't touch my strudel!!" But at least once I come to my senses I will apologize for the outburst and ask you politely if you would like part of my strudel or to pet it. There are several other things I don't like about my commute, loud headphones, no headphones, cell phones, loud conversations.

I even take issue with how loud the dude says the station name. Some fuckers just yell that shit, like ok, man I know where we are chill. It's a microphone, I think they were created so people wouldn't have to yell to amplify their voices. When I use my loudspeaker to announce the contents of my backpack for the day I don't yell, I find it's much creepier to whisper and sort of crouch down close to the ground. Elongate random letters like, "Todayssssss backpack contents areeeeeeee" *shuffles through bag* "Chewed gum in a wrapper!!!" "Now who wants it, if you guess what kind it is you can have it, no? no takers?" Then I usually just toss it to someone give them a wink and say, "thank them for coming out tonight." Then they say something like I am just trying to go to work and it's not nighttime it's 7 in the morning. I usually reply by mumbling something inaudible, end it with "and that's that!!" Before pulling out the t-shirt launcher and pelting people with crumpled up soiled undershirts.

On the flip side of being to loud, some of the guys whisper the station name and I wake up in the wrong city. Oh well at least my kids won't find me here I think to myself giggling with glee and rubbing my hands together. No more daddy can you unchain me I have to go to the bathroom, or can I up my food rations and have two kidney beans instead of one tonight because I have a soccer tournament. They are called rations for a reason child, because if I didn't ration your food, I wouldn't be able to afford my collection of exotic urinals and 24 karat gold body paint.

Eulogy

2009-04-21T11:26:00.002-07:00

My dad was a good man. In the sense that he cared for his family took care of them and made sure they were always provided for. I remember when he would go on business trips and would return with a G.I. Joe figure or another toy for me and my brother. He coached me in Little League, placing me in the outfield, because I was a day dreamer. Taught us how to ride bikes, order Dim sum. Just multiple things that built a secure early childhood and for that I am thankful. Unfortunately the ability to care of us did not extend to taking care of himself. In his final years he aged a lifetime, his legs weaker, his face redder, at one point bedridden from the effects of alcohol. Sipping slowly from the cusp ed hands of death. They slowly drowned him, a lifetime marinating in the bottom of a gin glass.

He was a functional alcoholic and maybe that's what the problem was. When you can get up, go to work, and do a good job, then maybe your problems at night are an afterthought or a welcome reward. He did work hard, held one of the top positions in the state as an Asian American male. He broke down doors, worked hard, climbed the ladder and he succeeded. He truly was a remarkable man. At a time when minorities were not in a position of power he questioned that, changed that, and led the way for people of color to succeed like him.

I wish that he would have been able to live to see the day when me and my brother got married. Lived to see his grandchildren. Played baseball with them, spoiled them, laughed with them. Instead his life was cut short by a devastating disease. One that others watched helplessly as it killed him. Unheeded warnings as he drowned, soundproofed in his own denial.

One time he was unable to move from the couch, his kidney on the verge of failure, emaciated and helpless, my mom drove up to get him. She brought him to the hospital and he stayed there recuperating. The doctor told him that everything that was wrong with his health was because of alcohol. Maybe it was denial, maybe it was an inability to face a sober life, but whatever the case may be this did not serve as the wake up call we thought it would. He needed help, professional help, to not be afraid to face this head on, to admit that there was a real problem. Was the battle for living that much effort? Not worth it? Instead of changing and living he continued to plod in the same bare thread tracks his father had marked out before him. Death came knocking and all Dad did was wait for him to wipe his shoes on the welcome mat before opening the door wide, allowing him to stroll on through. What we all thought was a clear cut bottom, the idealistic and symbolic epiphany inducing event, was merely just a slight pause on the path towards darkness.

It was sad, it was unnecessary and it was too soon. A completely avoidable end that was sprinted to, driven by compulsion and addiction. There was so much left for life to offer, the possibilities of the next day beckoned but their call was not answered. The line was disconnected, the hanger was off the hook, it lay on the ground ringing, no one there to pick it up. It shouldn't have been this way. It should have been different. If only he would have faced the problem, admitted that addiction had him in it's grip and that he was willing to fight it, face it, and live. But that's not what happened and we stand here today mourning the loss of a good hearted man. A man who I loved and who took care of his family, worked hard and left us too soon.

Don't make me read this, if you need help we can help you. It is not too late but it is getting damn near close to it. That stay in the hospital was because of alcohol. Your deterioration in health is because of the alcohol. You have an addiction, you have the gene. You can not cut back, you have to quit. Don't let these words fall on deaf ears, do not stand behind a wall of denial because you must know that something is not right. Not being able to move and kidney failure are not small things. You have serious problems and you need serious help. I will be here if you need me just start by asking for help. You have to want to change and if you are not able to do that then there is nothing anyone can do and I will be reading this eulogy very soon. I do not want eulogize you, I want you to see me get married, I want you to see your grandkids, I want you to live. Please look in the mirror and face reality.

(sorry for anyone that reads this, it really should be private, but I think I will just throw it out there. I am seeing him this friday, I think I will give him this before I leave)

2009-04-21T11:26:00.001-07:00

Just a couple things from the last two days. One of the advantages of living in the city is the abundance of crazy people. I was coming out of the train station, minding my business, when I came upon a man in a wheelchair. This alone does not make him crazy, but I think the masking tape x on his forehead would be a good sign he wasn't all there. I think he had an American flag on his wheelchair as well. The wheelchair thing didn't add to his crazy factor, maybe just commented on the fact that he was a veteran. What happened next though, seemed to both confirm that he was in fact crazy and, made me conclude that he was a veteran.

He eyed me, rage filling up his pupils. He raised his arms as if holding and imaginary rifle and fired at me. I kinda just stared at him, like, "Wow are you really shooting at me?" My stare did nothing to deter him, as he fired off a couple more shots and I thought, "Yeah I guess you are shooting at me." It took a lot of restraint on my part to not indulge in the fantasy with him. I almost started rolling and firing back at him commando style. Kicking over garbage cans for cover and radioing my base for back up. I wanted to up the ante and start heaving grenades at him, while crawling on my hand and knees to avoid the spray of his bullets. But what I really wanted to do was stand up straight, fists on my hips and laugh off the bullets like superman. Slowly walk towards him saying, "You're human bullets have no effect on me." Inching closer and closer, before either disarming his imaginary gun and tossing it to the side, or grabbing a hold of his chair and racing around in circles with him while screaming, "Weeeee!!" I thought better of this though, because for starters, he had a freaking gun, and secondly he probably smelled. I think it was a shotgun or maybe just an assault rifle. It wasn't automatic as far as I could tell but it must have had some big bullets because it had some serious kick to it. Not enough to move his chair back when he fired but it made his arms go back. I decided it would be best to not challenge such a high caliber gun and instead just walked away, had a shared look with a random Mexican, a look like, "Whoa he almost got me," or maybe it was more of a "That guy isn't sane is he?" Then I just stood there watching him shoot other people as I waited for my bus. I wondered if he shot at me because I was Asian, maybe he thought I was Viet-Cong. I felt better after I saw him shoot some Mexicans and knew that his love for killing people crossed all racial lines. It's all about equality, and I was proud of him for sharing his bullets with everyone.

Side tangent- I work on a upper floor of my building so I take the elevator (This is my attempt at being Andy Rooney, I actually think I saw Andy Rooney say the exact same thing) but it kind of bugs me when the button is pushed, the light is on and you know the elevator is coming but someone comes up and pushes the button anyway. Why? The shit is coming, hence the light, your push will not make it go faster, skip floors, rush down to meet you. It doesn't think hey, someone pushed that shit three times I better hurry my ass up and head downstairs. It will come when it's ready. So, maybe Andy didn't say those exact words, and don't ask me why I was watching Andy Rooney in the first place, but that's just a little think that bugs me. You know what else bugs me the fact that Andy Rooney has a job. What the hell is that all about? I could say the stupid shit he does, for example read what I just wrote above this. I saw another segment with him, jesus how much 60 minutes do I watch, am I that fucking old? Ok, so in the segment his whole thing was the president name should be strong, like Jefferson, Washington, Lincoln. They name schools after presidents, imagine if Huckabee won. Huckabee elementary? I just sat there listening to this shit and couldn't believe, that one, he wasn't dead because he looked like a bloated corpse with out of control eyebrows mumbling some stupid shit, and two he got paid for these witty observances. His segment is like 2 seconds, I just wonder how much he makes. I could sit in front of a camera, and say stuff like, you know the problem with digital cameras? People never print their pictures, in my time people had albums, now they have laptops. I would get the same bored looks from people, maybe two retards who chuckle and say god damn it he tells it like it is, that is sooooo true.

One last thing, when I go to the bathroom at my work, which is always number one, because I don't like shitting in public, people always do this thing that makes no sense to me. So I am standing at the urinal and someone sidles up next to me, they unzip and before they start, they flush the toilet. What is that all about? So the person before you didn't flush, does the toilet have to be clean for you to dirty up? Can your urine not touch their urine? Aren't you going to flush after you are done anyway? Why not just wait? Maybe these aren't questions for you, but should be directed at the pre-flushers, but I don't usually like talking at the urinal and I hate the people I work with and don't talk to them anyway, so yeah, you get to hear about it. Are you a pre-flusher? Can you explain it?

To bring this to a close, I will share a short but sweet encounter with a crazy person I just had at lunch. He came into the taco bell. Yes, it is my fault I was in a taco bell in a bad part of town and crazy people love taco bells in bad parts of town, but that's not the point. So I was waiting for my food. He comes up shows me a gold chain while simultaneously asking for a dollar. Not sure if the dollar was for the gold chain or a separate transaction, all I knew per his words was, " A nigga tryin to eat." I turned down the chain and the offer of me giving him a dollar but he still stood next to me. My food arrived, and I had gotten some nachos. I grabbed my tray and was about to leave when I felt a tapping on my arm. Of course it was my dear friend the jewelry salesman and he had a request. He wanted some of my chips. I used to be a pretty generous dude, I would give people whatever change I had on me. Two things have changed and have made me less willing to give. I need coins for laundry and I get hit up every fucking day for change. You become jaded, over saturated, just tired of it. So now I usually just raise a hand and say sorry before walking by. Having said all that I had plenty of chips and it was such a direct request, not a generalization like food, or something to eat, he wanted to eat some of my chips. I decided I could handle this request and grabbed maybe like two chips and put them in his hand. I sure am glad I did because afterwards he said, "You are a good dude, you are going to go to heaven for that." That made me feel good, as I now have a guaranteed ticket to heaven and all it took was two taco bell chips. Pretty good deal if you ask me. If a guy who thinks about running around with the wheelchair of a disabled insane veteran and makes fun of Andy Rooney can go to heaven then there is hope for all.

2009-04-21T11:24:00.001-07:00

Busy art weekend for me. Went to the opening of Allstar Hustlaz II at White Walls on Saturday. Below is the main reason that I went to the show, Sylvia Ji. Sylvia's work is awesome, I heard she works 40 hours a week too? If anyone could be a fulltime artist I would think it would be her. I think she might work at a design place and love her job though. These are all just hazy recollections from an article I read months ago as well so don't take it as gospel. Anyway I am a big fan of her work.

I used to get freaked out by her skull stuff, ok I still do. But one of them I liked better than the non-skull creepy version. Her skill is undeniable though, beautifully rendered stuff. It just draws me in.

These were not badly priced either, kinda affordable in that retarded art world kinda way where dropping tons of cash is normal.

I can handle this creepy.

I forgot who did this. I go to group shows, there are tons of people showing and I don't take notes or take the price list. So inevitably there are lots of artists that will now be known as "forgot" or "unknown," maybe a "what'shisname." This is one such artists, sorry I do like your work though.

These three were done by Dalek. I am not a fan of cardboard. I like the images though.

He always has the same characters in his work, for a fan I guess that's good. If you aren't a fan there isn't that much of a chance you will like some of his other work, since it is all pretty much the same.

These two were done by Damon Soule. I am a fan of his stuff. I prefer the more geometric hard shapes like what is inside the squid's head as opposed to the shapes in the second painting.

These were done by forgot, I couldn't tell what they were, cut outs? Prints? Something weird, because the detail was insane and you couldn't see how the images were made. I mean there were no brush strokes or anything.

These three were by Gregory Euclide

I really like his stuff, it always has the same look, but I am a fan. There are levels to it, it's clean, graphically appealing and a nice flowy streamlined design.

You really do have to see these in person, I think it's colored pencil and water colors, I could be wrong though.

Whatever it is it's fantastic.

These were done by the infamous "forgot" he had a lot of work in this show huh?

I like the poppyniess of this. Yeah that's not a word but that's what it is. The commercial, advertising, pop cultureness that pervades these pieces along with the branded and bright colors is what I like. Wouldn't buy it but it appeals to my eyes.

Another forgotten artist

Ben Frost

Shane Jessup

2009-04-21T11:23:00.001-07:00

I went to the Doze Green and Dave Ellis show, on Thursday at 5024SF.

This was made by Dave Ellis, it is a beat making owl, played it's own beat with paint cans, bottles and stuff inside the owl.

Most of the pieces were painted by Doze, except for like one collabo piece. Dave Ellis is a founder of the legendary barnstormers and a well respected painter and sculptor. He has shown in numerous museums and galleries. He is a well respected contemporary artist and a pioneer in the art world. He is also very nice and unassuming in person.

Doze prices are insane but his work is even crazier. Doze was the first artist that I saw and immediately thought, "That's what art should look like."

Doze came up doing Graff with the Rocksteady crew in NY. He is an originator, a legend and one of the most successful graff artists to turn to canvas.

These were mostly studies and sketches, but even these were like $5,000.

I have watched him do some of his figures in a video and a lot of it is done with one line. There is a cleanliness of form and a fluidity to the pieces that comes through and I think it can be largely attributed to a background in graffiti.

The show was cool, me and a friend actually went to go help out with the installation. My friend worked on that owl I barely helped with the meteor you can see in a later picture.

One of my favorite pieces.

Not one of my favorites, it's the trunk, not feeling it.

I guess there was so much work at this show they didn't even have space for all of Doze's paintings. There were like 3 or 4 that weren't even up in the gallery. One of them was my favorite piece from his solo show at the Jonathan Levine gallery in NYC. I should have asked to see it. Below is the meteor I helped build. I barely laid the top pieces on after fixing the frame of it though. It was nowhere near complete when I left after my one day of helping.

It was a great show, go check it out. 5024SF in San Francisco.

2009-04-21T11:20:00.000-07:00

Something big just happened, the words reaching out through the phone grabbing my attention. But they didn't illicit that much of an emotional response. It should have, I think in any normal person they would have. I just feel kind of numb. Not numb from like oh my god I can't believe what just happened, but just sort of numb. It must be this detached existence that I live, capable of faking emotions but never really knowing if they are genuine, My grandpa died, he was a cranky bastard but I admire how he took care of 6 kids in a bad era to be japanese.

Those were war years, years where they looked at you like the enemy. He was a no yes boy. Which if you don't know is pretty bad ass. After the japanese were interned they were given these questionaires to test their loyalty. Two of those questions were the most important. The first one was "Do you swear to denounce your loyalty to the country of Japan and the Emperor." That is like a paraphrased version of it. So there were no/no boys, who were the serious in your face fuck you kind of guys. They either said no to this because A) they were like, fuck you, I never had any loyalty to the emperor I am a fucking American, or B) Why would I denounce my loyalty to Japan when America treats me like shit, I may not have had any loyalty to them before but I damn sure know who's side I am on now (I don't think anyone was found to be aiding the Japanese out of the people that were interned, but I can understand a feeling of I hope you lose, you guys are dickheads.) Then there were Yes/yes, which were the go along with it they will realize they are wrong let's not act up kind of people (I think this would be me, am a bitch.) Then the Yes/No boys. So my Grandpa said he would denounce Japan, he was an american citizen afterall and they were at war. The second question was "Will you bear arms and fight for America?" So, people said yes, they wanted to prove they were real citizens, they were not the enemy, they would go and prove it.

Other people said no, because first off why would I fight for a bunch of assholes that rounded us up, imprisioned us, and made us abandon our homes just because of the color of our skin? How fucked up is that? You go gather your family, bring only what you can carry, and most people had kids so they had to carry them and their luggage too, and then go sleep in these horse stables. Oh and also would you like to fight to protect this great country? My grandpa said no. He actually stood up in the mess hall and questioned the officers that were trying to get him to enlist. He said that he would not serve because the very fact that they were imprisoned violated the constitutional rights that they had as citizens and went against all the democratic principles that this country stood for. He had the balls to stand up in a military compound and question the people with the guns. To stand up for what he believed in. Afterwards people came up to him and said, "Why did you say that? They are going to lock you up." He turned looked at them and said, "What are you talking about? Look around you, we are already locked up?" Now those are balls I do not have, he was stronger than me, and you have to admire that in a man.
He was drafted to fight in the army anyway, but he served as an optometrist.

My Grandpa went to a university that is in high esteem today. He was actually disowned from his family because of this. His father wanted him to stay on the farm with the family. Instead my Grandpa understood the importance of a good education and he struck out on his own. Another situation where he showed some big balls. Disowned? Doesn't matter I am going to college. Thank god that he did, otherwise who knows what the family would be doing right now. We would probably be farmers in Fresno. But thanks to his gumption he was able to get a higher education, recieve his PHD and start his own private practice with two offices in hick ass towns. He was successful, active, in japanese american organizations, in organizatins within his occupation. He was president of the school board. This guy had his shit together. I just saw a plaque of his the other day that said president of the optometric society when we were cleaning out his storage space. cleaning it out like a precursor to his death. moving things, his things.

They said they arent having a funeral, they said they werent having a wake. My mom wasn't even crying, she said my grandma is fine. I think it was the slow deterioration, his mind slowly losing it's grip, accusations that made no sense, illusions that didnt exist. Even before that he wasnt very loveable though, he was rough around the edges, held grudges, he was gruff, grumpy, surly. but you have to admire what he did, he raised an optometrist, a doctor, a professor, a buisnessman, a teacher, and a state worker. he kept them fed, none of them fucked up their lives and that in itself is pretty amazing. my mom said he was never the same after he had that stroke. this was way back when he was younger, he was like 40 or something, I never knew him prestroke, but he was never the playful grandpa, you never really ran up and jumped on his lap, a pattern of detachment, leading to a simple acceptence of his passing. Everyone seems to be taking it well saying it's better, he is at rest. It's just so unmovie like, non dramatic, a life gone like a bump in the night. a small blip on the screen, which is what I guess we all are. This is dedicated to my grandpa George, thank you for all that you did, for ensuring the future of this family, for being strong in hard times to be strong.

(This piece may have two different tones, one was written before the funeral and left private, before I learned some stuff I didn't know. The second tone was just written today after I re-read the piece, added some, and decided that I would share this piece. I haven't re-read it as a whole so I don't even know if it meshes together, and I don't really care so yeah whatever.)

So I don't really use this anymore

2008-10-28T16:31:00.000-07:00

But I just signed on and whenever I do I just see comments about my post about slanty eyes. For some reason this got a reaction.

so here is my reaction from another blog I have.

I seem stupid.

Haha, Apparently I seem stupid. Well not apparently I kind of knew this. If you have read anything written on here you would come to the same conclusion. If you equate intelligence with posts about defecating penguins...well, then I guess you can't judge intelligence very well and we should get along just fine. Pull up a chair, the tea party is just getting started.

Anyway, I was checking my junk email account over the weekend and found an email saying that someone had posted a comment on the mirror of this blog. By mirror of this blog I mean the same page except not updated and almost forgotten, I made it exactly for the reason that this post was born, so that non-xangians could post comments. The reason it has become abandoned, dilapidated and retractable..wait scratch that last one, is because I can't get pictures to show up without them being sliced in half and well if you can't fit a whole picture of me posing with my trophy at the thumb wrestling tournament, then really, what's the point?

At first I giggled with such glee and intensity that my neighbors stomped on their floor to quiet me...but then I read the comment and my heart nearly shattered into thousands of pieces and the tears wouldn't stop flowing no matter how hard I tried to dam up my tear ducts with duct tape, isn't that what duct tape is for? So, the comment came from a post I made a really long time ago. Here is the link to the mirrored site. http://toemah.blogspot.com/2006/12/blog-post.html

So here is the new comment that burned me to the core and made me re-think everything in my life and what I hold dearest.

"you seem stupid.
newsflash: Asian people have "slanty" eyes. drawing them as such isn't racist.

you tried to come off as an edgy commentator and failed miserably."

Haha, I was smiling when I read this, I thought it was an awesome comment and I thought my dear friend anonymous nailed it on the head.

But then I actually re-read my entry and just had to pull some stuff out of it Allow me to quote myself.

"The questions are mostly only interesting to hyper sensitive asian american studies scholars or racists though. Oh and I guess people that like to take really small things and turn them into big arguments might find this discussion interesting."

So I make this statement in the first paragraph. Basically saying let me make a big deal out of nothing, not saying let's burn all of his work!!! How dare he, that racist bastard!!??!!

"Is it insulting that a non-asian is drawing chinky eyed scantily clad women in revealing outfits almost fetishsizing them? Is the equivalent of this me drawing african americans with gigantic lips sitting on a fence eating watermellon? Or Mexicans wearing sombreros sweating in a field? Probably not, but does the race of the creator limit what they can draw and how they draw subjects? This is where I think it gets tricky. Of course you can't limit what an artist draws or say that only asians can draw asians or be influenced by asian art. I agree, and I feel like I have little to support any other view than this. But at the same time the argument about this exists. Can I as an Asian American male write a novel where the main character is an African American and not be seen as perpetuating stereotypes and broad characterizations? I guess if I am good enough and aware enough I could. But what do i really know about african american life, why should i even be weighing in on this. Any portrait that i paint must be influenced by who I am. Or am I wrong, does literature and art have a way of reaching across the boundries and the process of creation is colorblind. In truth, Simon might actually know more about Asian culture than I do, does me being Asian give me an automatic pass, when I write about Asians? I guess it would kind of have to but can you kind of see what I am talking about?"

I feel like I am asking more questions than making steadfast declarations. I barely even say or commit to a side, kind of just raise questions that I think could be discussed. Key word, could, not should, but could. I never say his eyes are the worst part, although I think they are. Asian eyes can be drawn as something besides thick black lines. The problem for me would be the overall picture, the eyes plus the situations the girls are placed in. Sexy Asian nurse bending over? Could be seen as offensive, that's all I was saying, I was actually asking is it offensive, not even saying it was.

"I am purely approaching this as an antagonistic thin skinned, race card playing person. The devil's advocate, the political asian that organizes the boycott of abercrombie and fitch and the ray fong shoe. I just wonder if this is something that would be taken on as a cause of these people."

Again I say that this isn't an issue I lose sleep over, just something that I think my professors could rally against, because, that's what they do, protest the smallest perceived slights against the Asian race. Because they are racist and hate the establishment. That kind of comes with the territory when you are an ethnic studies professor.

"Does race factor into what an artist can create and whether or not it is seen as offensive. I like Simon's prints and i would consider getting some, but I think that I might feel better if they were done by an asian. That's just me though people can obviously look past who created it and I think that in reality they should. I just have this jumbled idea that somehow someone could argue against his art and his representations of asian women, but I don't know if they wold have the same reactions if he was asian. Do you think this is true or is it just me tryin to think like an angry asian american studies professor? Did any of this make sense or was it all as mashed up and jumbled together as it felt for me as I wrote it. I didn't proofread it either so that could add to it, I think I said the same thing 5 times but who's counting right? Was this even close to an interesting issue or just pure madness that makes no sense at all."

The top bolded part is the main question I was asking. Does the race of the creator or artist have a factor in the subject matter that they tackle? Would it be weird for me to only paint African Americans, in slightly stereotypical ways? Do you inherently assume that I am portraying stereotypes because I am an outsider painting things that do not stem from my own self? Or does the art itself break through who the artist that created the work is? See what I was going for? This thing wasn't focused on the mere fact that Tokidoki paints his girls with thick black lines for eyes. I don't think anonymous really understood what I was talking about. I feel like anonymous was a Tokidoki fan and got butt hurt because I mentioned their idol Simone. The "newsflash" part was fucking awesome though. Haha, that is like the douchiest thing to say. Newflash buddaaay...

I also don't get the edgy commentator part. I mean I was drinking mountain dew while piercing my tonsils and riding my bmx bike while writing that post is that what they mean? When I spilled my dew was that when I failed miserably? Or is an edgy commentator like Bill O'Reilly or Rusch Limbaugh? If edgy means retarded, evil, and full of hot air, I should be thankful I failed?

Anyway thank you anonymous, I will try and be less edgy next time that way I will not fail miserably, I will also stay tuned for all of your newsflashes, in case something important comes over the airwaves, keep me up to date budaaaay. This is an APB for anonymous, I love you...

Ok so above was the reaction to the first comment. Below is the second one.

" Wow, you're a pretentious, politically correct twit. You're not clever, and you're simply shooting yourself in the foot."

again from anonymous, you sultry, sultry bastard. First off let me say that you are right I am far too politically correct. If you read my writing you can tell that I am very serious and I find my self to be the most cleverest person ever. I don't know how people even find this blog, because I haven't written on it forever, but jesus you Toki fans are out of control. (I left jesus with a lowercase "j" how is that for politically correct suckaaaas) But hey whatever, I wish I was more clever so I could come up with more to say, but seriously, you may want to re-read the entry, or the highlighted parts. Thanks for stopping by and caring enough to comment on a crappy un updated blog though. Cheers mates!!

2007-11-28T12:51:00.001-08:00

I sit alone in this office. Surrounded by people that I can not relate to. I can't even speak to them without becoming annoyed. Where did you just say you came from? The Liberry? Are you fucking serious? The Liberry? They say things like, "You know I think that when daylight savings takes effect it should start getting brighter earlier." I just moan and angrily mutter to myself, yeah that's kinda the whole fucking point of daylight savings.

They sit at their desks, the perfect examples of uselessness. They speak in error ridden sentences with ghetto accents. Bills becomes beels, I don't have any, becomes I aint got none. Ask becomes axe. My headache becomes larger. There should be an office language, that is different than your I'm at home chillin with the folk language.

Plate tectonics

2007-11-28T12:50:00.000-08:00

It was a small ripple thirty years ago. A small ripple, that lead to a small crack and with time this crack and this ripple turned into a rumble and a crevice. The two halves being shaken apart, the seams breaking and the clasping of the formerly conjoined joints, began to dissipate. The ripple that was constantly there, starting from a small point and spreading out farther and farther until it enveloped the entire area. There was no escaping it, no ignoring the shimmering of the once calm ground, the tremors and the small bouncing boulders made it clear that while you can learn to tolerate such a ripple, in the end it becomes to much to bear.

The way that you have to delicately carry the plates when a larger one hits, the bracing of the table so the glasses don't shatter on the ground. Inhabiting such a place is a hassle, a hassle that some endure but not forever. I can understand why one would leave such a place but at the same time it's hard to let it go. This place that saw so many things despite it's rocky foundation. There was once happiness in such a place, a sense of calm derived from routine. Overlooking the imperfections, hoping one day the place would stabilize itself. Of course it never happens like this, you would have to knock down and rebuild from scratch. So most people would rather just walk away. Maybe not rather walk away like a clean cut abandonment, but a forced exodus, a feeling of I can't handle this anymore, this place is not safe, and it is not safe for me.

There were several attempts to stabilize the problem, but they always failed. The foundation would be stable for a couple months until the small tremors would start again, barely noticeable vibrations, the rocks kind of shaking back and forth, hopping ever so slightly. Signs that things were going to back to the way they were before. People were hired to try and halt the problem, save the place from falling apart, crumbling into shambles. They tried talking to it, reasoning, making it realize what exactly it was doing. Places like this don't listen though. You can talk at it all day and it will still do what it does. It can't do anything else than what it does. It's natural for it to behave so. They tried though and maybe some of it worked, but always for short spurts. Short spurts that made the place livable for thirty years. Which isn't that bad if you think about it.

But then if you do think about it you have to wonder about how many of those years were happy. How many were spent frustrated, cursing the tremors, knowing that they were slowly taking the place apart. Shuttered up in a sinking ship, a slowly disintegrating hovel. It must not have been that bad for them to have stayed though. I'm sure if it was much worse they would have left sooner. They never seemed that attached to it anyway. Not attached enough to put up with anything that horrible. Maybe it was just complacency, an acceptance of this as normal. The same steps in the same place everyday, the routine of stabilization. The charade of stabilization. It was more than that though, certain chains and ties that locked them to that place. Commitments and reasons that were too logical. Not based enough on do I want to live here, more having to do with we have to live here for now.

The non acknowledgment perhaps hoping it would just solve itself and when this doesn't work the confrontation of the problem and all that that entails. Blaming the place for coming apart, giving it ultimatums that you know it can never hold up. It's in it's nature to defy the choices laid out in front of it. It's like asking a bear to not be a bear. You can't say to it, transform yourself into something more desirable or I will leave you. It would look at you and say but I have been a bear so long this is all I know. I like being a bear, I feel like it is my lot in life to be a bear. Because though it may appear that this problem is a choice that is being made, it is apparent that it is not. It is something that is.

But even this is a cop out, because though it may be natural it is also a choice. It's a convoluted mess a twisted tangling web of rationalizations and contradictions. The bear thing must be wrong, it is more like asking a bear not to act like a bear. Not to change itself to an unatural thing but to change it's actions into something it is not used to. But the thing about the tremors that is different is that there is a cure. A cure that is a long process, a painful process, something that you have to want to do, be committed to. I guess a bear could be committed to such a thing if it knew it's actions would cause its life and the lives of other to be better. But it's not an easy thing, it's not a simple agreement that is made, it is a whole relandscaping of its life, a new phase and direction it must be willing to go for. The tremors refused to accept this choice, they didn't see it as a choice. They stood defiant saying this is who I am and what I do. I will continue to shake and you will either chose to stay or leave. With that the ultimatiums were flipped and they decided that they might as well move on. It wasn't an easy desicion but they figured that it was their only choice. It was sad for them to leave the place that they had loved, to watch it shake itself apart, withering away slowly, the walls falling upon themselves, the dust in the air.

No, Where are yooou from?

2007-11-28T12:49:00.000-08:00

I was watching, "Last Comic Standing" last night. Not something I usually do, but they shut down our planned oil wrestling match, something about that's not appropriate for a high school basketball half time show. Whatever, they just don't get our art. So since that didn't go down I was home by myself all lathered up and bored and was flipping through some channels. I just wanted to share one asian guy's joke from last night, "It's hard being Chinese...because I am Japanese." I liked it, I laughed, I could be biased seeing as how I think anything an Asian says is funny. They say things like, put me down, how did you get in my house, are you wearing my robe? I just can't help but snicker at them. They're funny I tell ya. So yeah I liked the joke, I didn't like the end of his routine because he busted out the fake asian accent. Not really a fan of that one, I only use it in extreme circumstances. Usually when supermodels ask me out, I just act like I don't speak english and they leave me alone, so I can get back to benchpressing cars and juggling three chainsaws with one hand.

I busy, so sowy ladee, me no speakee english. Just typing that sentence made me feel dirty. I know what you're saying, it wasn't the sentence that made you feel dirty but the fact that you fell asleep on the couch lathered up in oil and your 12 cats shed everywhere. That is the reason you feel dirty. While you m'lady are wrong!!! I have fallen alseep plenty of times and woken up covered in cat hair without feeling as bad as I do about that last sentence. It's just I don't like resorting to that kind of humor. I don't know if you know this, but my humor comes from a highly sophisticated place, it is what I would call high brow humor. It should be enjoyed whilst sipping tea, one pinky in the air. Laughs should not be heard but light clapping and an occasional bravo can be muttered. A bravo and a good show sir. That's the type of crowd that gets my humor. No need to resort to racial stereotypes or phallic props for laughs. So if you don't have a monocole, you are not a Duke, Duchess, or any member of parliment I refuse to dumb down for you. You can use a dictionary or thesarus to look up the larger words but when you have to explain a joke it's just not funny. You stupid peasants can't even read anyway right?

So, yeah don't like the asian accent, not gonna go there for the laugh. Especially when people assume you have an accent anyway. Seriously, I have had people compliment my english. I turned around looked at them, flipped my queue over my shoulder set down my rickshaw and was like, excuse me? People are funny. There is a theory taught in Asian American studies, called the "Perputal Foreigner." It's not really a theory but a stereotype. It basically means that because of the way that asians look, people automatically assume that they are foreigners. Noone expects that you were born and raised in America. This can be countered or slighty altered by dress style, hair style, wrapping yourself in a gigantic American flag and siging the national anthem at all times, but in reality people will still probably assume you just got off the boat. Granted it won't be everyone, it's mostly the old people who assume such things, you know the kinda that had milk jugs delivered to their doors and have seen wars with asian countries, but the perception still exists. In truth there isn't much one can do, unlike a white person, asians can never truly become integrated into the mainstream white society based on their looks alone. Despite growing up sharing the same culture, the appearnce of an Asian will never be the preconcieved notion of an american. Eastern Europeans who may have arrived last year would be less likely to be questioned about where their country of origin is.

The conversations usually go something like this,
"Where are you from?"
"Well I was born in Seattle but I moved to this area a couple of years ago."
"Oh where are your parents from?"
"Chico."
"Oh where are your grandparents from?"
"Chico." I know what they are getting at but it's fun to drag it out.
"Oh I mean what are you?"
Now how could you not play with this question, isn't this just a question for the ages? I am so many things my friend, I am a dancer, a lover, a world class butter sculptor. If you really want to annoy them you just say American and never budge from that stance. I usually give it up though, after they start shaking their head and the blood vessels start to tweak on their forehead. I look them straight in the eye and tell them, "I am 1/4 Blue blooded gator, 1/4 Doberman, and 3/4 homo erectus." I usually giggle after I say erectus, before I say it again kind of fading off into my thoughts, erectus hee hee...

Now this isn't even really an insulting question for me. Maybe it should be but I don't mind, my math doesn't even add up for my answer anyway so I effectivley debunk two stereotypes at once. But it just seems kind of a strange thing to ask. I don't go up to white people and say, so what are you? No, no, I mean what ARE you? German? English? Irish? My ancestors probably got here before yours but somehow I am made to be the one who is the foreigner. I know it doesn't seem like it's that bad, it is actually just showing some interest right? Most people who ask that probably know that I was born here anyway. It's not really an issue with these questions, it does make one feel singled out or like you are being seperated from everyone else, but it's not meant to be in a bad way, at least I don't think so. The english one is waay waaay worse. Oh and another thing, I don't even get how white is a category. You aren't white, I mean you are but you have a country of origin, and it's not America. Somehow that fades though, you don't feel the need to ever progress past American or white. You probably would if pressed but it is expected that American not be my first answer. I listen to Lynard Skinner just like you buddy, I drink moonshine, sure I eat more rice than potatoes but that doesn't mean that I am less american. Shit, I burn crosses, and dress up in bedsheets, we can be friends. Ok at some point I had a point, might have lost it. Something about perpetual foreigner, assumptions about speaking english and the fact that people of any ethnicity that is not white is more prone to identify with their culture because of the fact that they are forced to recognize their differences in relation to the majority and mainstream white society that they inhabit within the united states. Something like that, maybe if I come back to this later it will be more clear and I can add stuff to it, or not whatever.

Edit: I TAKE BACK EVERYTHING I SAID. Apparently I am way off and so are my old professors. Maybe the times are changing. I was watching the news last night and there was a story about some guy that walked into a pet shelter or a pet sitting place and said he was a dog's owner. The shelter or whatever it was gave him the dog which as it turned out was not really his. So what shattered my world and made me have to come back on here and dismiss everything that I had said like a couple days earlier was the description of the guy. They said that he was either a white or Asian male. Whaaaaat?? They couldn't tell the difference? The people at the place talked to the dude as he gave them information about the puppy and convinced them it was his. Maybe he was happa? They showed stills of him captured from the security camera and he looked Asian to me. So we do have the ability to blend in? Mistaken for white? Crazy, maybe the perpetual foreigner is fading as asians become more and more populous in the states. Or maybe the witnesses were retarded. Either way, one of three things just happened, either an asian was mistaken for white, a white guy was mistaken for an asian or a happa was just split down the center. The world is changing it will not be long till we are all color blind and one big happy family. Probably not but whatever...

Ouch!!!

2007-06-18T13:28:00.004-07:00

This is some of the craziest shit I have ever heard of, and coming from me that means a lot. Read this and return for discussion, or go cry in a corner clutching your balls while telling them to never leave you. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/merseyside/4253849.stm

Bitch is crazzzzy. Favorite parts of the story include, the friend picking up the testicle, placing it in his hand and saying, "This is yours." Who picks up a testicle and hands it back to someone? Was she like ripping it off that's fine, biting it, that's a no, no, I am going to give it back to him. You have had your fun for today my friend.

The fact that the testicle was placed in the mouth, then she was not able to get it down and so she spit it up on the ground. I can't fully grasp how one rips a testicle off through clothes barehanded. Did she rip it, as it fell down his pant's leg she snatched it up and threw it in her mouth? Or was it more of such an intense grab that it just straight ripped through his layers of cloth, creating a testicle bundled in undergarments, which she then unwrapped to feast on the tasty morsel within?

How was this guy able to not immediatley pass out. If I see my ball in someone's hand who was just standing there fighting me with me a second ago, I think I just faint. Not just the fact that she was holding one of your nuts in her kung fu style eagle death grip, but to then see said ball go into someone's mouth, on the ground and then have it placed back in your hand. I faint at the rip, I faint at the point it goes in her mouth, I faint when she spits it back on the ground, and I definitley hit the ground when that shit is placed in my hand. As far as I am concerned there are like seven moments within that story that I just hit the ground, just back of the hand over forehead, a slight gasp and I am down. I would have never seen her put that thing her mouth, I am down and out as soon as someone rips off one of my balls. Dude must have been in shock to make it to the point when that bloody testicle is placed back into his hand and the friend says, "This is yours." How can this shit be real. I don't get it.

Also the quote from her saying that she isn't violent. Oh suuuure I believe you, I would totally walk around with my balls hanging out in front of you. Non-violent people always rip people's nuts off and put them in their mouthes right? She is freaking insane, to avoid this scenario I am going back to the chastity belt. I took it off last year because it was starting to chaff, but desperate times call for desperate measures. There will be no ripping off of the balls on my watch.

Something more than rambling

2007-06-18T13:28:00.003-07:00

Ok I feel bad here is something useful, some drawing blogs. Ok maybe they aren't useful but they are better than the shit spewing out of my mouth. I really like these guy's work. Dig the style, it's all great stuff. First off this guy ST Lewis, think his first name is Shane. Check his blog here http://stlewis.blogspot.com/

This is another blog that he is part of. They take a new theme each week and all do their own interpretation. It's how I foud him. Tons of great work and real creative people. http://toonclub.blogspot.com/

I found this site through this one which is the same concept, and a little better organzied. http://www.drawergeeks.com/

and this is the site of one of my favorites from both of those groups http://www.sarahmensinga.com/home.htm

Brain Exercise

2007-06-18T13:28:00.001-07:00

I have a whole nother entry that I am leaving as private. Intrigued? Intrested? Immaculate? Whatever, the reason that it is private is because it is sappy and not even close to finished. Sappy takes a long time to mature. You can't just throw sappy down and it's done, it takes the right combination of soaring violins and slow motion running through the airport scenes. That and Meg Ryan, since I haven't cleared her apperance with her agent the project may not come to fruition. I am sure she will be alright with it though. The scene is very tasteful, she won't have to use real whale blubber we could find something like it, and the monkeys will never be in the same room as her. The cheetas on the other hand she will have to deal with. Just be a professional for god sakes, shouldn't it be for god's sake? I think it actually is but haven't you heard people say that?

Sooo this my idea of brain exercise. My brain is dying from lack of use. It's either that or my habit of sticking knitting needles up my nose. I guess the combination is the problem. Either way I just need to write, I apologize to anyone who feels the need to read this, there is never anything of any signifigance or usefullness here. It's kinda like you just stumbled into the psych ward and sat down with the mumbling guy in the corner. If I was you I would leave, let him fester in his crazy urine soaked room. Only after you poke him with a stick and tell him he smells though. It's only the nice thing to do. At least be civil.

So I say I will be writing more, but I still have no creative juices or topics planned, I know people don't want to read writing about having nothing to write about. But if you read anything I write it will make you slightly retarded. Run while you can. Run like a hamburger from that fat guy in the office, or like a graceful hippo towards a spring sale at Ross. I am going to have to figure something out, maybe create some adventures. Take suggestions, finally decapitate that mermaid so I will have something to talk about. Maybe just start posting up links that I find, pretend to be a blog. Does anyone want my recipe for mongoose wafers? Geez, I hope noone really reads this...

I am NOT the father!!

2007-06-18T13:27:00.001-07:00

Why was my meeting at work today like an episode of Maury Povich? There was so much head rolling finger snapping ghetto attitude it was horrible. I just sat there thinking how unprofessional these people were. It was all too dramalicious. Made me think that I don't fit in here. Not because I have gills and webbed feet and would be more suited in an aquatic environment, because I have accepted that. It was more the fact that I don't think work should involve such petty bickering and personal wars that blow up in conference rooms.

Sure there was drama when I worked in the mall. But I worked in a woman's clothing store with teenage girls, and it was a mall. I am actually telling thr truth, I really did work at a women's clothing store in the mall. This is an office, we have computers and phones. It was a unit meeting, it was grown up time, not crying baby, ghetto attitude time. It wasn't a hoodrat puppet show, it was a meeting, with an agenda. This whole place is crazy. I showed up for work the first day in a suit and tie ready to get to work. What did I do instead? Nothing, I sat there for two weeks while they set up my email. I surfed the internet and had no idea what my job entailed. It was months before I realized that my job entailed doing nothing and surfing the internet. What am I doing here? I am the youngest person here, I don't realate to these people, is this where I want to be? It would be nice to have people I could relate to at work. Instead I sit in my bubble of solitude, eaves dropping on discussions about fried chicken and gossip. Avoiding drama and watching the clock tick. I would be much better suited in an aquatic enviornment.

Return Of The Mack

2007-06-18T13:26:00.002-07:00

Ohh my god, returrrn of the Mack. You know what I am talking about. Maybe...anyway, how has everyone been? You get that infection taken care of? Hide the evidence and bury the bodies? I don't really care, it was more of rhetorical question. Seriously, stop talking I don't care.

So not much new has been going on in my neck of the woods. I am feeling kind of ambivalent about my career though. There just aren't very many oppurtunites for accordian playing gypsies these days. But the work will come as my unemployed father used to say in between sips of happy juice and just before shoving his face full of jellybeans. He loved those things, sometimes I think he loved them more than me. I thought he called me jellybean as a term of endearment, alas twas not the truth. Like an ex-baseball player calling his kid slugger, projecting his dreams upon the young infant's shoulders, my father's dreams of me becoming a jellybean that he could devour and never have to see again were apparent in the nickname he bestowed upon me.

But let's not dwell on the past. I have long forgoten my dreams of achieving such sugary perfection. My body a bean of jelly. The doctors say if I don't start exercising my dream may come to fruition. It's funny how once you abandon a dream and don't think about it, things start to take shape. If only pa could see me now, if only he could see his little tutti-frutti jellybean now...

I apologize for this post and for anyone that has read this. I will be refunding your wasted minutes once I get a chance to read all of the requests for returned time. Please be patient.

Budgie

2007-06-18T13:26:00.001-07:00

I need a budget. Or in terms you would understand a budgie. I act like I am the queen of reindeerland with the coin I be dropping naw mean? Probably not but the rambletrain continues on it's intrepid adventure, stopping only briefly to smother itself in wasabi and throw flowers in the air.

So what I was talking about was a monetary budget. I can't keep living the life of a playboy millionaire, buying up all of these exotic game hens and playing $1,000 games of yahtzee with the folks at the retirement home. That is what millionaire playboys do right? I just live to free, I throw caution and exotic game hens to the wind. Live in the moment and don't plan for the future. Suuure I don't own a house, I shower in public areas, such as ponds and gas station bathrooms but that's not the point. The point is I should be saving more money, right now I just walk around like I am Mr. Moneyman, who incidentally looks a lot more like me, now that he shaved his moustache. I see something I like and I yell at anyone within ear shot to "wrap it up." They usually respond by saying sir, please put that lamp down, that is not for sale. "Anything is for sale, Ricardo, annnything" I say leaning closer. "My name is not Ricardo and you will have to leave before I call security." That's usually how that goes.

But in real life, I don't save as much as i should. I don't starve, I pay my bills, I just don't see any increase in my savings. It goes up and it goes down, always leveling out at the same place. I buy things I don't need, eat out too much and sponser several porteguese armadillo farms. That is actually a good investment, but the rest of the stuff is where the damage comes. Other people my age are thinking about houses and cherry red terradactyls that respond to voice commands and hand signals. I dream of material things like paintings and armorplating my body so iIcan run through walls and slide on my stomache and make sparks. Silly things, things that just aren't possible. The things that dreams are made of....

Amy Sol

2007-06-18T13:25:00.000-07:00

Man I just love Amy Sol's work. It is just so haunting and it, just gives me chills. I want to buy a piece just so I can stare at it all day. These are from her latest show in new york at the Aidan Savoy Gallery. You can see the whole show at this link. http://www.aidansavoygallery.com/next.html

Am I wrong? Or does her stuff not rule.

Seriously, I know my excellent art critiquing skills and expository notes on its composition can be hard to follow, but just simply stating it. I dig her stuff.

This is one of my new favorites.

I smoke out with my cat all the time. What?? Like you don't.

I look like a pretty asian girl and stand with my cat like this all the time. Wait a minute, I lied. I don't have a cat. The first part remains steadfastly true. I stand resolute in my conviction. I'm surprised you didn't know that

So I just felt the need to share Amy Sol's genious.

Myspace

2007-06-18T13:24:00.001-07:00

Myspace is pretty useless. I think most people know this, but still find a reason to sign on everyday. Who knows what they do there, maybe browse stranger's sites, trawl for 14 year olds or old high school classmates you never really wanted to talk to anyway. Just add random celebrities so that you can fill out that extra page and have more friends. You don't really know Kurt Russel, he is not your friend, take him out of your top 8. I say all of this, yet I am guilty of owning a page, soliticing sexual favors from 12 year olds in Arkansas and having Patrick Swayze in my top 8. But at least I feel guilty about it. You people, you carry on like you aren't ashamed. When I click on your page and "Unchained Melody" starts playing, your slide show induces epileptic seizures and your background starts gyrating with chanel advertisements I die a little inside.

My site is simple. Felicity background, countless surveys like, my favorite food is, craziest place I have eaten a skittle, and if I was a narcoleptic monkey which Golden Girl would I be. Just the facts, those important things that you need to know, I am a pepsi gal and prefer clam chowder baths to showers. That is actually the only thing you need to know about me. Maybe that and the fact that wherever I travel a flock of seagulls comes with me. This could be related to my bathing technique but I think it has more to do with the fact that the band is out of work and I can be marvelously entertaining with a couple shots of tequilla and a nice pair of hot pants. Sometimes we just stay in but mostly we drag the strip yelling at sailors and tourists. I was informed that this was called "soliticing sex" and carried with it some kind of legal ramifications, but when the long arm of the law approached I just plugged my ears and rocked back and forth. When I opened my eyes, the band was gone and I was sprawled across a pool table several miles from where I thought I had been. Oh well that's the life of a gypsy I suppose.

So anyway back to myspace, I find the most useful thing is to post comments about people. Not that this is useful in anyway I don't know why I phrased it that way, but it is entertaining. So if you would like, you can become my myspace friend and I will post a comment about you. The comment will have nothing to do with you as a person, it will have nothing to do with our relationship and it will have nothing to do with reality. Here is a sample of a comment that is waiting to have your name filled in it.

(Your name here) hey lady last weekend was awesome. Don't worry about my neighboor, he said that he won't press charges but he did ask that you at least remove your thong from his tree. On another note next time you don't have to yell, "Look at me, look at me, I am doing the naked robot." We can obviously see that you are doing the naked robot, by announcing it so loudly you only draw the attention of the neighbors and ruin the fantasy that you are a naked robot. I mean if you are going to say that at least say it in a robot voice. Hope to see you again soon, next time we should only sacrifice two gnomes, we almost lost the moonlight last night. Call me!!

This is an actual comment sent to a friend. He messaged me with something like,"Yo wuddup son, what's crackin wit you. Holla atcha boy." His page has messages from rap stars and other people that talk this way. He is a dear old friend so I sent him this comment.

Hello my dear chap. I hope this finds you well and the weather blessed. Everything is going a-ok on my side. The crops have just come in and the sun looks spectacular peeking up over the mountains. Virgina and I have started to teach Abner the ways of the farm, rising early and putting his nose to the grindstone. Funny story actually, he thought I meant it literally and damn near shaved off his entire nose. Oh well, I tell him he can smell better without all that skin in the way. Anyway, we should get together, maybe pick some mullberries for pies or cobbler. Maybe fly kites at the beach or maybe just stay in and bake some bread, I'm down for whatever. I did just get a fabulous recipe for bananna bread though...

So feel free to become my friend and get comments like this.

Chicken??

2007-06-18T13:23:00.000-07:00

I am Chinese, well part Chinese the other half of me is a mix of cougar and German mongoose. I state this fact only to cover up the fact that this post may sound racist. Trust me it is. I went to lunch today at a Chinese restaurant. Sometimes I have a problem when I eat at Chinese places. It all has to do with trust. As I sit there eating the sweet and sour chicken I find myself questioning certain things. The chicken is tenderized, breaded, and then fried. Now I understand this changes the consistency, I mean obviously the tenderizing part would explain why it doesn't feel like chicken, but I still find myself wondering. Is this really chicken?

You could seriously bread up anything tenderize it, fry it up and drench it in sauce and I am sure it would feel the same. How do I know exactly what kind of meat I am eating. This is where the racism and trust issues comes into play. I know some cultures eat rats, dogs, shit even bats. I myself have never had any of these meats, therefore I would have no idea what they taste like, and in effect could eat them without realizing it. Cat has to be cheaper than chicken and it is edible in certain places. Although probably not many, and it could be more of an overblown stereotype. But what is to stop them fromjust grabbing some other animal instead of the stated chicken and frying it up. I mean basically anything could be eaten if you wanted to. Horses, pigs, salamanders, whatever it is I am sure it is eaten somewhere. I just hate it when I take a bite and doubt that what I am really eating is what it was labeled as.

But if you really look at it the designations for what is acceptable to eat it is weird in the first place. What makes a certain animal acceptable to consume? Why pigs, which are filthy animals, over say a cat which is probably much cleaner? It has to do with attachment I suppose. The projection of a personality and intelligence upon an animal, makes it less ok to devour. But I heard pigs were smart.

Another things is what parts are ok to eat. I am guilty of discriminating between what parts of an animal I will eat. I was at my girl's house one day and they had some food on the stove. She asked me if I wanted some and I said alright. Of course I asked first, "what is it?" she responded, "Oh, it's just some beef." Cool I thought to myself that is acceptable. So I got a bowl and started mashing on it, like eating a lot, thinking mmmm this is good, I likey. I finish eating a good amount and I look over to see my girl just smiling at me. Kind of that weird mischevious smile, the kind that says you don't know what you just ate. This fact was confirmed by her saying, "Do you know what that was?" Ohhh shiiiiit, what the fuck did I just eat I thought. "I thought you said it was beef," I said. "Well it is, it's a part of the cow." "What, what is is?" I anxiously inquired. "It's cow tongue," she said still smiling that evil smile. Awwww man, what the fuck, that is gross, I thought. Sure I was a little pissed but I liked it. I am not saying that I will purposefully eat it again, but I don't know why the stigma of eating cow tongue would make it less appetizing. Ok actually I do, it's a god damn cow tongue. But I have to admit that it tasted good and was very tender. It reminded me of that scene in "Funny Farm" when Chevy Chase sets the record for most Rocky Mountain Oysters eaten. "Wait a minute the rocky mountains don't have oysters." Hahaha, yeah he just ate a ton of cow balls. But once again he liked it. So does thinking something is gross, play that much of an effect on eating it? I suppose it does, but you kind of realize that is bullshit after you unknowingly eat it and enjoy it. Then the only thing stopping you from eating it is being stubborn and having this unnatural aversion to it. It has been experienced and you enjoyed it, now why would something mental hold you back from partaking in it at another time? You know it's good despite what you are thinking in your head, but it's that mental block of, fuck dude I am not down with eating the tounge out of animals that stops you.

Anyways I was just thinking about all of this while at lunch today. Seriously I don't think that was chicken. The only thing stopping me from enjoying the meal was that mental nagging, of what the fuck are you eating. Which as I stated before is kind of dumb. Maybe it is more of the wondering that bothers me rather than the actual consumption. If they had told me it was rat meat then maybe I could enjoy it more? Im going to go with no, maybe it is better to wonder. But this leads back to the you enjoyed rat meat argument so I see no end in sight for this dilemma. Perhaps I should just stop going to shady ass Chinese places.

http://www.slate.com/id/2060840/ (Good article about whether or not dogs should be eaten. I like this piece as it argues how its just cultural differences. I should have talked about this more in the beginning but, my thoughts were more about me getting grossed out by being fed stuff I wasn't sure about. Please read this and open your mind. We have no right to tell another country not to eat something. Hindus don't stop us from eating cows, why should we regulate what other countries eat. It's closeminded and ignorant. It's an american-centric view. I am all for personal freedom, whether it be what you eat, what you wear, who you date, whatever, just let people have their own views. I choose not to eat dog, but that's just me, please don't eat my dog, but if you want to have a snack, who am I to stop you.)
http://www.messybeast.com/eat-cats.htm (eating cats)
http://www.animalfreedom.org/english/column/dogmeattrade.html (Eating dogs again, but against it)
http://www.damninteresting.com/?p=281 (I guess you shouldn't eat bats)

Stinkytown should only have a population of one

2007-06-18T13:21:00.000-07:00

Soooo, this is disgusting. These are conjoined toilets. Now is that hot or what?? Not sure if it is real or just a prototype but whichever one it is, it shouldn't exist. If you need to be this close to your signifigant other while in the act of number one or number two you have serious seperation issues. It's cool dude, I'll just see you when I get out. Oh nah, really I'm fine I can handle my bizz on my own. Just out of general courtesy I would not subject anyone to the activities that transpire while in the bathroom. In my opinion, stinky town should only have a population of one. There is nothing that needs to be discussed that can't be taken care of when you aren't deficating or pissing. There is no need to hold hands or lock lips while the smell of shit wafts between you two. The soft tinkling of urine lightly splashing in the water below will not bring you closer. You sick fucks, whoever buys this is gross. Not just because of this but it points to an overall grossness. The kind of fooffy foofy affection and I love you more, now hang up kinda shit that makes me sick. Trust me if you buy this toilet you are one of those assholes. The have to make out in public, getting hickeys, holding hands no matter how many kids you end up clotheslining. Doing intricate dances through crowds just so you never release your grasp on your signifigant others sweaty ass palm. Let it go people, stop it, save it for the bedroom, and keep it out of the bathoom. You weirdos...

I have returned

2007-06-18T13:20:00.000-07:00

I haven't written in awhile. I am not even going to act like anyone has notcied or apologize like everyone else does when they come back from a hiatus. I am just going to say, if you are ever in a bus and you think the nun across the aisle is asking to be tickled, she probably isn't. Trust me, she probably just has indigestion or is dreaming of her long lost love that she left for a life dedicated to god. If you tickle her, it will lead to court dates, trials, restraining orders, a whole bunch of crap you don't want to deal with. I still have to do community service.

Speaking of my community service, I was really hoping to do more than just pick up trash. I was thinking more along the lines of serenading senior citizens or puppet shows espousing the use of condoms and the threats of std's. I actually still have my chlamydia puppet in my closet from the last beauty pageant I participated in. I just have to find my burning urine and open sore puppets and then maybe I can start booking venues. Would anyone be interested in a show? The routine is not beauty pageant approved but that's just because it was too forward thinking for them. They actually screamed when burning urine puppet shot his silly string at them. I mean sure it is meant to evoke a reaction but more of a welcome than a panic. Who doesn't like to be draped in silly string? I'll tell you who, a bunch of make-up caked, conservative, chastity belt wearing, religous zealots. Spitting out their canned answers, "Peace on earth, puppies for everyone blah blah." Ok, so I am still a little bitter, but only because I was the rightful owner of the beet queen crown of 1986. I would give up all of my dancing queen trophies for that one beet queen crown. But alas it shall never be and we must strike forward, noses upturned and pinkies out.

So besides that other exciting event on the bus there hasn't been that much going on. I founded a travelling choir that specializes in Neil Diamond covers. Right now it's just me and this homeless guy Larry. I think he is just lonely though as he doesn't participate with the singing as much as the asking for money. He really shines during "Sweet Caroline" though. I start of with the "Sweeeeet Caroline" and then I point to Larry with my best wiggling jazz fingers and he comes in with a "Ba dump dum dum" and then back to me, "Good times never seemed so good" and back to Larry "So good!!, So good!!" You get the idea. We really are a sight to see. Though we have gotten some complaints and people make fun of Larry saying he just mumbles stuff and isn't really singing, but I tell Larry they just don't get us and he usually responds by mumbling something I can't understand. But whatever the case may be, I think we make a fine duo. I keep telling Larry it's not about the money, I say, "Money Schmoney Larry, money schmoney." He just kinda growls back at me and then holds out his cup. Then I just pat him on the head and say, "Same time tomorrow partner," and Larry says , "Hrmmpghh" or something to that effect. I smile and skip away waving as I make my way down the street and out of sight.

So, as you can see signifigant things are starting to happen. That's all for now. Here is a link to some random comics and drawings from an awesome site that has prints, shirts, fucked up valentine's day cards and other goodies. I would post pictures but flickr is now blocked at work. Down with censorship!!!!

http://youyesyou.net/

R.I.P. James Borwn

2007-06-18T13:17:00.000-07:00

I have neglected this site, mainly because nobody reads it and also because it is exactly the same as my other page. I am having a hard time living this double life. Like when one of your two girlfriends calls and they just say, "Hey" and then I am like oh shit which one is this, say something that will identify yourself you wretched wench. Curse you and your games, how am I supposed to know who I am speaking to? Actually it's nothing like that. So anyway here come some old posts from my other page.

Is it my fault James Brown died? I changed my profile picture awhile ago, just because I liked the picture. If I had known that I would have caused the demise of such a great and soulful man I would have gone with the Nick Nolte mugshot. I apologize to the world for robbing them of such a national treasure. The man who could calm riots, do the side splits and rock the same hairstyle for almost his entire life. I almost went to go see him in Reno last year, I regret not going now. It just seemed like such a far drive and then I was thinking that he wouldn't be the James Brown that I would have expected him to have been. I am sure it would have been a great show, and I should have just gone. Now I will never have the chance to see him. So once again if using his picture for my profile pic, is what caused him to die I apologize. I never meant to hurt him or his fans. It's almost as bad as that time I stood up during the NBA playoffs and I caused my team to miss that three at the buzzer. I should have just stayed seated. Such a dumbass. Now the picture seems more relevant as opposed to random, but if I change it I could possibly kill someone else. I am torn so for now the picture will remain. It will remain as a vigil, a tribute, an apology to a great, great man, with a very long rap sheet and some crazy tendencies, but god damn was he photogenic!! R.I.P. James Brown, I bid you adieu....

Batman is the Head of the Russian CIA

2006-12-15T00:39:00.000-08:00

So apparently the reason Batman hasn't been seen in awhile is because he is too busy running the Russian version of the CIA. What's that you say the Russians have their own version of the CIA? Well you probably didn't say that, your question probably related to the mention of Batman or something. You would totally think something like that, I know your kind, bashful and stoic on the outside a real powder keg of burnt radish and mesquite grilled burlap bags on the inside. Who is even reading this? It doesn't even make sense. Carrying on as I was taught to do by my former lover and teacher Mister Timothy Gunn I present the evidence that Batman is a Commie.

What the hell is that you say? Well I will tell you but only after you stop stroking my hair. Stop doing the eyelash thingy too, it's kinda creepy. So this, my sacrilegious lethargic abba loving dancing queens is the logo for the Russian version of the CIA. Except it can't be called the CIA because that would be known as biting. The Russian government does not bite, they have their own thang going, nah mean?? Yeah so they are called the GRU or something, I dunno, read about them here from the article I bit this picture from. http://www.ridingsun.com/posts/1136444340.shtml

Here is another picture of Putin saying "Whaaaaaat??" As he takes a tour of the new intelligence agency's building. I am pretty sure that's what he is saying. Because unbeknownst to you I can read Russian president's expressions with 94.2% accuracy. One time I thought he was thinking "This turkey is scrumdiddliuumptious." But in reality he was thinking about his favorite episode of Growing Pains. Hey nobody is perfect. You would have thought the same thing...trust me. Anyways here is the picture. He is like whoa that is totally a Batman symbol..or something.

So who's idea was this? Why would the Russian government want their CIA to have the Batman symbol? I mean sure he is the dark knight, he has a gay lover, a butler and the ability to kill people ninja style but I still don't get it. It's like the American CIA symbol being Captain America's shield or the FBI becoming the justice league. It's just crazy talk. I would like to work for the DEA if they had the X-men symbol and we go to wear tight leather outfits and fly around in a jet. But that is beside the point, It seems weird to appropriate an American pop culture icon as the symbol for your spies and agents. It's like an 8 year old was their graphic designer, he just said who is the coolest toughest baddest assest peronius you can thinkus ofus. That's how 8 year olds talk right? Or is that a bad imitation of Latin? Either way, it's total comic book geeking out. Especially if they have jackets or hats made. It also is not a good way to not draw attention to your agency. Which could be the point, since there are goobers like me writing about it now and comic book guy virgins applying for their agency right now. They probably already have their capes. Anyways just thought I would share this, I thought it was extremely weird and oddly amusing, kinda like when you see an old person fall and struggle to try and get back up, while young mohicans keep knocking them back down, their shaking arthritic hand reaching for their cane while the Mohicans circle poking, prodding and laughing callously, kicking the cane just out of reach. The withered frail body gasping for air, their eyes tearing up from frustration and confusion, I thought there was only one of you left they shout at no one Mohican in particular? You're not Daniel Day Lewis...

What an Ass

2006-12-13T11:21:00.000-08:00

Haha fucking Kanye. Did anyone see him freakout when he didn't win video of the year? Acting like a jackass, running up ti the mic and taking it away from the real winners. Talking some shit like, "Ooooh I spent a million dollars, I had Pamela Anderson in my video, because i didn't win this it makes the whole awards show fake wah wah." Some shit like that, the best part of it all was that he didn't even see the video that won, so he had no idea what he lost too. Such an ass move to just assume you are better than someone without even knowing what they have done. I think he prefaced all of his shit with no offense to the winners but....Yeah basically that was a whole lot of offense to the winners. How are you going to claim to have the best video, you don't know Kanye, that video wasn't even that tight. Pamela Anderson does not make something award winning. I mean sure she brought thousands of emmys to the cast of Baywatch and Barbed Wire swept the oscars, but you cant predict this type of stuff Kanye. The budget thing doesn't matter either, creativity will win out over money any day. So keeping all of this in mind check out this article http://sohh.com/articles/article.php/10446 Kanye is being sued by Evel Knievel for basically stealing his image and making the touch the sky video. Creativity Kanye, shieeeeeeeet the simpsons made this episode like ten years ago. Just because you jacked evel's whole routine and spent a ton of money doing it doesn't mean you should win something. How is that even close to being a tight video. You didn't do anything except say remember when evel knievel tried to jump snake canyon? Maybe I could be Kanyevel, huh? Does that sound tight or what? No it doesn't sound tight you egotistical bastard. I think it's hilarious you didn't win and to top it off you are getting your ass sued. I love it!!!

You know why? Because I am a hater. Because I think you can't rap for shit and you are so full of yourself it's sickening. Just because you say the same word three times it doesn't mean that's a rhyme.

"Took nothing from no man
Man I'm my own man
But as a shorty I looked up to the dope man
Only adult man
I knew that wasn't broke man
Flicking starter coats man
Man you don't know man"

Puuuuuuure garbage, shitty, shitty shitty. Same as your lines about you remind me of my jeep but not nokia you can call me on my cell but not nokia" Ohhhh that was fucking tiiiight you said nokia twice but it meant different things, man you are the greatest you should win every fucking award there is. Shit that is the same as juvenile's style, just add the same ending to every word and that's a verse? No that's just a bad song-uh, know what I'm saying-uh? Just stay behind the boards dude. You suck on the mic and your an asshole. You were right about the George Bush thing and you are a tight ass producer but stick to what you know and stand back from the mic. Oh and stop being such an egotistical self absorbed douche bag.

stolen from an article

He stormed onstage and shouted: "Fuck this! If I don't win, the awards show loses credibility. Nothing against you, but hell man."

Following his outburst the rapper has now issued an apology and blamed the incident on the amount of booze he consumed that night.

He told MTV: "It was just out of raw emotion. I had a couple of drinks but I was more drunk with adrenaline. I was drinking at the awards show because I feel so at home at awards shows.

"On one hand, I felt like I should have won. But if anybody watches the show, I was laughing. People don't understand my dry sense of humour. I went up there and said, 'Hell nah, I should have won'."
(Just because you were laughing it doesn't make it ok to jump onstage when someone else wins an award and act like a dumbass)
Despite his apology he still felt that he should have won Best Video.

He added: "'Touch the Sky' was definitely better than that. [Their video] was good. It didn't cost a lot of money - I know it's not about the money, but when you got drinks in you, that's the first thing you're gonna say."

The Complacent Cubicle Monologues

2006-12-12T10:04:00.001-08:00

The ugliest thing I ever had to wear was a suffocating suit of complacency.
It was tight in the arms, limiting free swinging punches at oppurtunity. The back was taut confining the inhalation of everything that could have been.
Neck cinched, breathe restricted, if only I could undo this button.
I walk through the office and nobody notices my suit
But I can see their wardrobes for what they are
your too short skirt screams mid-life crisis
Your #1 dad tie mouths the word trapped
Everyone has their own set, style, chains
Ghosts wrapped in the problem of the day
I hop scotch through my shift, down a hall with alternating tiles of peach and grey.
I jump from one foot to the other acting like the peach tiles are lava, tie over shoulder tounge in the corner of my lips, eyes focused, don't touch the lava
Does my suit show that I am not a suitable fit as a corporate disciple
I do not worship kitchenettes or collating
I can feel the youth and hope beneath these clothes, this mask I wear
This costume that is beginning to become me
Complacency.....I wear it like you wear your belief in God or your childhood abuse
I need to go to a tailor because this doesn't fit me
Childhood visions of something better must have been in my other pants
Eeking it out over bran muffins at the water cooler
The lights are dimming as the darkness of reality slowly claws its way into my cubicle
I am becoming what I used to fear
I should finish myself off, buy a minivan and start losing hair
college idealism meets reality equals complacency

Hello

2006-12-12T09:45:00.000-08:00

Please sign in if you are a new arrival, cabin assignments will be passed out over breakfast. I hope you enjoy your stay and don't have to bunk with a pedophile. But hey, life's a gamble right?? So have a seat and make some friends. Stay away from that guy with the eyepatch though, he is not a pirate, though he may talk of booty he is not referring to treasure chests full of gold. Trust me, you don't want any of his wicked games...

Nerdy Mcnerdster

2006-12-12T09:34:00.001-08:00

I am a nerd who collects nerdy things. But seriously look at the art and the amazing stuff these people can do. This one is by RC44. This is one of my all time favorite pieces, it just looks so clean and bright.

Is it nerdy or cool? Ehh whatever it's visually pleasing and that's good enough for me. I think it's awesome but my girlfriend thinks it's dumb and a waste of money. You can see this guy's site here http://www.reactor88.com
Hit him up he is a cool guy. If you like his stuff he can make something for you at a reasonable price.

Here is another artist that I really like, I posted a canvas piece I bought from him a little bit ago but he does an awesome job customizing these figures as well. His name is Dear Earthling and he is from Seattle. Check out his site here http://www.dearearthling.moonfruit.com and a sample of his work is posted below.

I love the colors he uses, the monotone/grey scale work really speaks to me. It speaks to me and says spend crazy amounts of money on useless pieces of plastic. For real though his color palate just looks so classic and clean.

Amazing, Amazing stuff. Or at least I think so....just check the detail

This guy is cool as fuck too, he hooked me up with a tight ass comission for a good price, hit him up if you like his stuff.

This is the same type of figure that RC44's is. Oh and if you have no clue what these are or what exactly is going on here then good. That means you are not a nerd. But let me explain what these are. Below is a picture of what the figure used to look like.

So you buy one of these and then if you have skill you can turn it into one of the sick pieces above. The other pieces by Dear Earthling are former figures that he stripped down and re-did. He customized them, usuing their shape as his canvas. It's really nerdy stuff, but oh well. Did you know that people customize my little ponies? I don't own any I was just saying that so I feel like less of nerd, these are obviously cooler than My Little Ponies right? Maybe......

This one is by Dok A, he is a well respected artist in this genre. His stuff has lots of range too, he gets pretty inventive and his technique is always flawless. Really professional looking.

This one is by Motorbot, he likes wood. Alright I think that's enough, I don't even really like these things as a platform anyways. I do like these customs though. If you are interested head over to Kidrobot.com. That's enough nerd shit for today.

New Day, new nerd Shit

These are by a guy named Seph. Don't contact him though. I was supposed to get a piece from him but he up and dissappeared on me. After I paid too, weaaaaak. His work is still so nice to look at I just had to post it. Makes me sad though, I should have had one, mine was going to blue flames...

Simple and clean.

Raphael was always my favorite.

By Phuek, this just shows the different ways that these things can be transformed, awesome work.

Sam Flores show pics

2006-12-12T09:33:00.001-08:00

These are from the Sam Flores show at White walls in SF, go see them in person link to the gallery here http://www.whitewallssf.com/ So, I wento the show this weekend and it was a really great show. Sam Flores is probably my favorite artist so I could be biased but, his stuff is just amazing.

This is a pic of a gigantic Fatima, his toy that he released last year, it had a fish pond under the dress and the orbs were filled with Betas or Chinese fighting fish, crazy stuff.

I think this one was called the Misery twins but I am not sure. From Sam's blog the story is; the misery twins are in the tree dropping posion or evil petals into the water trying to get the girl in the water. The tiger is her protector and guides her through safely.

This was on the wall of the gallery, amazing detail, hotness...

A couple of Sam's pieces had this gold leaf thing going on and at first I thought it would be too gaudy (based on the preview pics) but up close this stuff is amazing. Really goes with his asian influence and has that Japanese screen fel to it.

This was my favorite piece, if only I had $6,500. There was a ton of detail on this one. There is a whole city by that dog on her dress, you have to see it in person it's incredible. This girl also looks a lot more pretty to me than some of Sam's other girls. A lot of them are kinda freakish and deformed but this one looks right on and the whole piece is just so beautiful.

See this girl doesn't look as good to me, but that's just me...

Another favorite, only $7,500 haha I wish i could afford this stuff. If I owned this I would just stare at it all day and drool.

I didn't think I would like this one from the preview, but goddamn this piece was dope. This was one of the most expensive too, like $8,000 something.

Another shot of my favorite, you can really see the gold in this one.

Kinda scary but the background is the shizz

This was called "Ok maybe just one more" The woman is apparently taking a little snort of snuff or coke, not really sure which. But I was more into the background and the blue of the water. That blue was so deep, it was mesmerizing. I just wanted to jump in. I would have loved this if it didn't have the coke snorting chicks in the foreground.

This piece was called "Too much Sake" So yeah that's a chick hurling over the side of the bridge. It's nice but not one of the best pieces. There were a bunch of smaller paintings for $500 that you can see on the gallery site and there was a wall of sketches that I didn't grab a pic of. I bought one of the sketches for $250, I like it but man I wish his canvas stuff was still afordable. It was an awesome show though and if you are in the bay I recommend you stop by. Oh and another thing, if you do manage to stop by head upstairs and check that stuff out. Remember that Sylvia Ji print I wanted? It was called Autumn, it's posted a little back in the art post thingy, well anyways I went upstairs and they have the freaking original. It was crazy, I never thought I would see that thing in person and there it was. Good thing it was sold, or I would have spent $2,200. They also have Damon Soule pieces, some ike Giant, and another Sylvia Ji. I highly recommend a stop by to check out the gallery.

Better pics here http://www.fecalface.com/SF/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=429&Itemid=90

Zion-I- So Tall music video..somewhere in there

2006-12-12T09:31:00.000-08:00

Zion-I fucking rule. It's true, you may have heard that Murs rules the world as stated here, but that is a false statement. Though Murs is a top notch M.C. maybe even in my top 5, Zion rule harder. I have no idea what I am talking about. They are both great and if you haven't heard their stuff check them out. I recommend Murs 3:16 with him and 9th wonder. It's a classic, good stuff, give it a listen and decide for yourself. I loved "Bad Man" off of that album till I played the shit out of it and now I am little burnt out on it. But to freash ears it will sound like the primordial love making of two wildebeasts beneath a waterfall. Actually I don't know what that sounds like. Maybe you should just listen to it. The whole album is good, buy it, download it, call me and I'll burn you a copy, just get it. Ok it would actually be better if you bought it. Support the man, he is a good dude, maybe, I don't really know him but from what I hear and the persona that he employs behind the mic he seems chill. If you don't support real hip hop and keep spending money on these janky ass records that they play on the radio and on mtv then we all lose. The true talent quits, they say, "What the fuck am I doing, I am giving you real music here, these lyrics have content, There is intelligence in these words, you motherfuckers just keep jiggling your asses and listening to stories of ex-convicts and how they murder people and sell drugs." Which I dunno if that's yourthing go for it I don't really care, I have no right to tell you what to listen to, put I can make these recommendations. The first one is Murs 3:16, give it a try, it's not that intelligent, it has a little bit of everything. Trust me you like. Wasn't i talking about Zion-I? Oh here is Murs' Myspace, everyone's doing it cmon didn't you know?? of course you did you saucy bastards, I dunno what that was all about. http://www.myspace.com/murs

Yeah ok so Zion-I is really good. That's the thought that started off this rant, this swirling vortex of incomphrehension and manic madness, as I sit alone confined in my ivory tower of indecipherability. See almost lost it again. Yeah, so this is recommendation two. Try buying true and livin, it's the last album they put out. It's hot, not like Paris Hilton when she says hot, but more like Mugatu when he says Hansel is hot. "That Zion-I, they're so hot right now." Something like that, have little symphonic sample of their delicacies at their myspace http://www.myspace.com/zioni So the whole reason for this tripped out entry is I was looking at my myspace and I noticed that Zion-I had deleted the song I had playing on my page. So then I went to their myspace to get another song and I saw their video for "So Tall" and I was like goddamn these guys fucking rule. I love them, not like I love naked polo or Saurkraut tacos with yoohoo, but more than that, like I dunno, I just love them. They give me aural pleasure. This post just turned really homoerotic and I apologize, in case you are a homophobic I did not mean to offend your delicate virtues. I did not mean to impede upon your horribly ignorant and unneccessary views. Now it's political, and we don't need to get into this. I'll just give you a link to the video, I wish I was cool and I knew how to do that thing where people play it from their site like you just click it and it plays on the page, but alas I am not cool, so all I can offer is this archaic link, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aJK_EE9vBoI&eurl= I do know how to do this though, here is what they look like, not that, that matters but I dunno...

So the video is for "So Tall" it is not the best song on the album but it is still a great song. It has this chorus that is kind of embarrassing for me, because it says, "When your young and black and proud like me, stand so tall for all to see." Something like that, well I am not young and black and proud, but I just really like the song so sometimes I sing along, but I am like man you really aren't talking to me on this one. But then I think well I support you though, I think people should be young and black and proud, that's a good message, much better than the shit on the radio. Much more intelligent, very usefull even. A side note I also was the same way about "Royalty" by Gangstarr, loved the song, totally not meant for me. It's cool though, anyways, the song is brilliant, clever wordplay to a nice kind of throwback beat, uplifting, empowering, just good stuff. Give it a listen. Support intelligence, put the gun down and back away from the mic. Tuck that chain in and sell all but 2 or 3 of your cars, just be a little more practical.

Here is an example of the complete opposite of Zion-I and quality music.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=22dPHP4MOBM&eurl=
It's Jim Jones and the stay fly remix or something. Just listen to the lyrics, watch the video. They seriously, count money, shower in money, fling money, they fucking kick money for fucks sake. Are you guys serious?? Every verse is the same, chain, car, money, shoot someone, diamonds, I moved a key, I am hard, blah, blah, blah. It's sad, it's bad, it's what you people wanna hear. What can you do, carry on I guess. Just try those things I put above, just give them a little chance to maybe change your mind. It's up to you.

Hungry Eyes

2006-12-11T20:50:00.000-08:00

This article is pretty crazy, I have heard of this shit before but to know that the numbers of operations are increasing makes me a little sad. Here is the article http://www.northjersey.com/page.php?qstr=eXJpcnk3ZjcxN2Y3dnFlZUVFeXkyJmZnYmVsN2Y3dnFlZUVFeXk3MDMyMDg1

It talks about surgery that asians are getting done that enlarges their eyes so they appear more caucasian. Though lots of the people say they are not doing it to reject their ethnicity or to look more white, I really can't see any argument that supports their claims. It appears to me that, that is exactly what this surgery does. It says that you are conforming to the western ideals of white beauty, transforming your natural ethnic look so that you can try and blend in to white society. Granted you will never blend completley so I have no idea why you would want this done.

One girls says it's easier to put make up on. Bullshit, that is not a reason to have your eyelids cut open and your eye reshaped. Even it does take an hour it's still a pretty big decision, something that I think should not be based on how hard it is to apply make up on your Asian eyes. Now I am not a girl so perhaps this issue of applying eye makeup traumatizes asian women every morning forcing them to think to themselves damn it if only I had white eyes I could apply this so much easier and truly love myself. I really don't think this happens, I think that you are insecure with your identity and are trying to look like these images that are flashed at you when you watch the makeup commercials. It's not that you have trouble applying the makeup its that you don't look like the people that are selling the makeup.

Well listen to me, and realize that you are who you are. A comestic operation is not what is neccessary for you to feel better. Trying to morph into something you are not will not help you. What you need to do is realize that you are a beautiful person regardless of what society tells you. Ignore the fucking fashion magazines, stop watching entertainment tonight, shut your ears to the garbage you are fed on a daily basis. Realize that this society caters to a certain person and perhaps you are not that person. Not being this person should not lead you to try and transform into this person. It should make you realize that you do not have to play by their rules. I guarantee that you can find someone who will love you for you for you, who will treasure you regardless of ethnicity, someone who doesn't care about your eye size for god's sake. Now I know that you think you are getting this operation for yourself, for your own self esteem and self worth, but realize that you are not doing it just for you. You are being influenced by countless things, bombarded by popular culture, nudged by the media. Do you think you would even have an issue with your eyes if you didn't care what other people thought of you or what you percieved them to think of you. If someone, even yourself thinks that you would be a better person with bigger eyes, then they are fucking douchebag. How does eye size equate to self worth, to importance, to self esteem? It only does if you allow yourself to buy into these idealized notions of white beauty. Beauty is not an annorexic white chick draped in name brand designers. Beauty is when you are comfortable with yourself, when you are free from the bullshit of society. When you can look in the mirror and be happy with yourself. Filter out those voices, those ones hawking make-up, those skeletons draped with skin, waving you forward, their gigantic eyes dissecting you and making you feel inferior. Beauty is self confidence.

This isn't like the blonde haired asian chicks, this is physical alteration. Though you say it isn't, it is trying to erase your ethnicity. It's sad, it's unneccessary, it's angering. If I was black I would have the same problem with the skin bleaching. Just leave yourself alone. I actually do have a problem with blonde asians, but it's not even close to the intensity of my problem with this surgery. You remember when small feet were in? Was that beautiful or dumb? At the time it was beautiful, they were confined to chairs not even able to walk because of their deformed feet. I know this is not as drastic, but the point I am trying to make is that beauty is subjective, it is a percieved notion, it is transformed by culture and society. What I am saying, and have been reapetedly trying to hammer home, is that it is all a game that you don't have to play. Your self worth should not be based on the size of your eyes. I think asian girls are hot, if I saw an asian with freakishly enlarged eyes like you just jumped out of a god damn anime I would run the other way. Just stop comparing yourself to people you can't be, look in the mirror and accept who you are. If you are able to do this you will be much more happy than if you have your eyes enlarged. Or maybe not, what do I know? Does anyone else think this is weird and unneccessary?

Update: Here are some pics, though they may not be as drastic as I thought they would be, I still don't think it's neccessary, just keep it real son!! Just do you, naw mean!!!

Top: Before Bottom: After

Top: Before Bottom: After

Okay actually, this one kinda scare me, I think he looks much better in the before, Please don't do get this done. I love my asian eyes.

Wait I Don't Get it?? U laughing, I No Understand.

2006-12-11T20:49:00.000-08:00

Are we too sensitive?

Check this article here http://www.nypost.com/seven/12092006/gossip/pagesix/rosie_to_asians__loosen_up_pagesix_.htm

(A Rep for O'Donnell said, "She's a comedian in addition to being a talk show co-host. I certainly hope that one day they will be able to grasp her humor.") Stolen from the article

I am kind of more insulted about this statement than the whole incident. What kind of shit is this? Just because we don't laugh at grade school taunts used by ignorant ass bullies and morons we don't get your humor? Oh no we got your humor, we got that shit when we were seven and kids pulled their eyes back and said this bullshit to us. Forgive me for not thinking this shit is hillarious, obviously your comedic stylings are far too superior for my feeble intellect to grasp. The more I think about it the angrier I get. I mean how deep and nuanced is this humor that we can't grasp? Is this some cutting edge comedy that we have fallen behind. Am I like the old fucker sitting in my wheelchair staring blankly at Conan while shaking my head and wishing for the days of Dick Cavott? Is that even how you spell that guy's name? Whatever, I know that I can understand funny, even if i don't laugh I would get the implied humor. That shit wasn't funny. Masturbating bears are funny, making fun of someone's language by mouthing off a bunch of made up words is not that funny. I mean seriously that is truly playground humor, it's the equivalent to sneaking under someone's desk tying their shoelaces together and watching them crumble to the floor in a heaping lump of tears and anger. Ok, actually I think that would be funny. But I digress, back to the point.

Don't say stupid shit that isn't funny and insults people and then insult them more by insinuating that they are too dumb or slow to understand the humor. Or was she pointing to our cultural differences, maybe the joke was lost in translation? Maybe this fat person humor is outta my league. I mean if i walked up to her and said ho, ho, ding dong, dounut, fatass lesbian, boston creme pie, I wonder if she would laugh. Probably because as I would be saying this stuff I would stumble towards her with my arms forward like frakenstein, kinda bellowing out each food item, hooo hooo, arrgghhh, ding doooong!!! kinda rolling my eyes back in my head, tounge sort of hanging out zombie style, and then when I was close enough I would tickle the shit out of her. Literally I wouldn't stop until she shit, and if you think that's gross then you are probably too stupid to understand toilet humor. Ever heard of shits and giggles? Of course you haven't retard, it's only like one of the oldest schools of comedy, practiced in like the 14th century or something. Anyways, after we are all tuckered out and had ourselves a good laugh we would lay down on the sidewalk together and have a cigarette or something, maybe eat a rack of lamb or two. Maybe play with each others hair, discuss other things asian can't grasp, like their small dicks or the ability to navigate a car. Good times, goood clean fun, intelligent humor Rosie, intelligence is the key. These morons out here they don't get us, they aren't sophisticated enough. Fuck it, it's not because we aren't funny it's because they are too fucking dumb to understand our shit. You don't get me buddy, that's all on you.

Now I don't really think Rosie is racist. Gross, yes but I think that she just doesn't understand that that kinda shit is the stuff that makes you different growing up as an Asian American. A lot of Asian kids have been singled out with this type of insult and to all of the people saying lighten up, get some tougher skin, you have no fucking clue what you are talking about. This all goes back to the notion of the perpetual foreigner, the "orient vs the occident," the classification of asian americans as other. If you actually care you can look at Edward Said's essay on Orientalism for a discussion of the classifciation of asians as the "others" and how this seperation is something that asian americans have to deal with now. There are historical ties to all racist insults and none of them should be taken lightly, and nobody has the right to tell someone they shouldn't be insulted by something. Personally I don't take this shit that hard, it rolls off now, but by perpetuating this type of thing it just continues a cycle of unecessary seperation and marginalization. I'm all about the kiddies, Trick Loves the Kiiiids!!! I have to admit I laughed when Dave Chapelle said the same thing in the Rick James skit. I even repeated it, so that could just derail my whole rant. I am also a racist bastard who hates everyone so I don't get easily offended. What got me was the response and people's comments about how asians should lighten up and blah blah blah. Just don't tell people what they shouldn't be insulted by. You have no place to say lighten up if you are not the people that were attacked. Just stay out of it, let them cry if they want, it will make them feel better and they obviously feel that way for a reason. It's just the defenders or Rosie that irked me.

Here is an example:

"There is more than Rosie that impersonates Asians like that. It's not making fun it's just something that I've heard people doing for years."

Ok, so making fun of a race for years somehow means that it isn't racist anymore. Is there a staute of limitations on insulting races? Oh chink dates back to 1872, that shieet isn't insulting anymore use it all you want boys that insulting tag wore off years ago.

Here is another one

"calling out whites constantly for being racist because "we don't respect historical context" is such utter bullshit - i'm living in the present baby, and this is what's happening right now."

Yeah obvioulsy this is happening right now too. This was in the news yesterday!!! You obviously don't understand historical context either. This happens a lot, trust me, it probably is happening on some playground right now....uh baby.

We need more people like this guy

"I'm surprised people are actually defending her. What she said may not have been overtly racist, but it was still offensive. I think the worst part is that she isn't even trying to apologize. She doesn't need to make some big statement about it, but she could just take 10 seconds on the View to say she's sorry for offending anyone. If someone had made fun of a gay man by using an effeminate voice, you know Rosie would be the first one to freak out."

totally agree....I think i'm done, what do u guys think?

Mickey Tong and Angry Woebots

2006-12-11T20:45:00.000-08:00

Painting By Angry Woebots. I am a fan, good stuff, just thought I would share. Look him up if you like paintings of killer pandas.

This is awesome as well, if I do say so myself. very deep painting too, according to the artist. I just liked the look of it. It was done by Micke Tong. There is an explanation about the painting and the construction of it here http://www.artheadsf.blogspot.com/ and his site is here http://micketong.com/ check em out.

Give Thanks Bitches

2006-12-11T20:42:00.002-08:00

How were your holidays? Well I guess holiday. I guess Thanksgiving would be more to the point. Sorry about giving you the run around I need to be more direct in my questioning. I need to stop being so feeble and demand answers instead of politley inquiring about such things. Because as we all know showing weakness will eventually lead to a mutiny and those are never good. Unless you are part of the mutiny and you are overthrowing a crazy dictator type who wears a monocle and jabs you in the ribs with his cane while ordering you to sing Judy Garland showtunes and churn butter. That's when mutinys are ok in my book.

Do monocles always make you think of Mr. Peanut? So after I worte that last sentence about Mr. Peanut I tried finding a picture of Mr. Peanut and stumbled across this madness. Click this link and make Mr. Peanut dance, http://www.planters.com/dancing/ Why is he dancing? I have no idea, it doesn't make me want to eat peanuts, but it does make me hate Mr. Peanut. Damn you, Mr. Peanut with your style, class, obvious wealth, and undeniable rhythm. I am jealous. Whenever I try and do outdated dances from the nineties I always incur the wrath of the room. The scorn of the cool people. You make getting jiggy with it an art form, I dare them to laugh at you. It will only show their own lack of style and sophistication. Or as you dear sir would call it Sophistifunk.

Ok so back to the holiday of thanksgiving. I feel like Americans have too many holidays. Or maybe not too many but too many that are undeserving. I mean, I am all for as many holidays as we can make up, but some of them just seem to celebrate historical atrocities. Thanksgiving is a very nice idea but how long did these people actually give thanks to the native americans before they slaughtered them and stole their land? Was it just that one year after they saved their asses from the cold and harsh winters in their new land? After they got set up they just said fuck it, we don't need those damn injuns anymore, we can now feed ourselves. The way it is now people just say things they are thankful for in the present day. It doesn't even relate back to the first winter here or the people that insured the survival of these first americans. It's all about Timmy being thankful for his cat or Jenny being thankful for the block, wait what? Nevermind I am just saying that all of the holidays have little to nothing to do with why they were first created.

Colombus day is probably one of the worst ones. I mean i don't ever remember paying respect to him for discovering America, all I know is that I get a day off and I am all about days off. But really now, this guy was lost. He didn't even know where he was, and even when they told him he was still talking about it being somewhere else. Granted he probably didn't understand what they were saying but I don't know if he ever knew where he ended up. So this guy gets lost, starts calling the natives indians and then starts claming their land and enslaving them. Now that is what I call reason for a celebration. Am I right? Let us forever commerorate the enslaving of these peoples and the stealing of their land. Awesome guys, keep up the good work. In the meanwhile I will just relax and be thankful for my day off.

These Analogies Rule Like a Ruler...wait a minute

2006-12-11T20:42:00.001-08:00

These are freaking awesome. I don't know if they are real or fake but they are hillarious. The vocab seems too good to be high school students on some of them but man they made me laugh. Stolen from here http://writingenglish.wordpress.com/2006/09/12/the-25-funniest-analogies-collected-by-high-school-english-teachers/
I wish I could write stuff as funny as these kids. They are some of the greatest humorists ever.

The 25 Funniest Analogies (Collected by High School English Teachers)

I have to share these “funniest analogies” with you. They came in an e-mail from my sister. She got them from a cousin, who got them from a friend, who got them from… so they are circulating around. My apologies if you have already seen them.

The e-mail says they are taken from actual high school essays and collected by English teachers across the country for their own amusement. Some of these kids may have bright futures as humor writers. What do you think?

1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a ThighMaster.

2. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.

3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.

4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli, and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.

5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.

6. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

7. He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.

8. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife’s infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM machine.

9. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t.

10. McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.

11. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.

12. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.

13. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.

14. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

15. They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan’s teeth.

16. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.

17. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant, and she was the East River.

18. Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long it had rusted shut.

19. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.

20. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.

21. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.

22. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.

23. The ballerina rose gracefully en Pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.

24. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.

25. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.

We don't attack Mer-babies

2006-12-11T20:39:00.000-08:00

I had anoher post that I was going to put up but then I felt really really bad. It was a picture of a mermaid baby followed by my asshole remarks about Prince Eric or Tom Hank's love being able to save the child and transform it into a human. The more I thought about it the more fucked up it seemed and now I just feel bad and hope the baby ends up ok. So in lew of sad asshole cheapshots at a poor baby I will share this picture I stole of the milky way. Infinite beauty seems to cheer me up. I love staring up into the night sky. I do it for hours, laughing menacingly and shouting "I will conquer you all!! Try and anal probe me buddy, see what happens." I imagine what would happen would involve lots of crying and hours of showering and scraping my skin off with a brillo pad while rocking back and forth crying. A broken defiled human. Yeah you don't want to mess with that you intergalactic bastards. Especially when I keep calling you just to chat. I thought we had something, I thought we shared a connection something besides those wires and that cold cold metal probe. I saw it in your eyes, I am sure the cuddling and the hair stroking is not protocol. You love me just admit it. Let's ditch these people that look down on our relationship. They don't understand our love, they never will. Flee with me beyond the stars. Cosmic lovers living at warp speed, just like Thelma and Louise...sorry got a little carried away. Here is the pic and at the bottom a link to the story that I had enough class not to make fun of. Damn right I am classy, do un-classy guys eat over the sink or get all of the napkins they use from fast food places? I think not, un-classy people don't even use napkins.

here is sad baby story
http://spluch.blogspot.com/2006/11/mermaid-infant.html

WTF???

2006-12-11T20:36:00.002-08:00

Why is this blog turning into a blog? It used to be creative writing and a smattering of bullshit spewed from my disjointed and increasingly decrepid mind. Now it's crazy links stolen from other sites and penguin obsessions. I think I just like posting pictures. Oh that combined with the fact I have no creativity and I am out of hallucinogenic drugs. Shipment expected tuesday, expect ramblings about Orange soda and Velcro. As for now look at these declassified pictures of floating islands in the bermuda triangle. Are these for real? How the hell could they be? Photoshop? David Blaine? David Copperfield? David Allan Grier (Does anyone remember him?) X-men? Islands that get high? Who knew me and islands had so much in common. We should really get together and have some philisophical debates while floating in the clouds. I am sure an island provides much better conversation than my collection of dead meerkats or the hobos that I drug and dress up like characters from Alice in Wonderland. Behold floating islands followed by stolen text explaining them. Well not really explaining them, how the fuck do you explain floating islands.

"(Washington, DC) Unusual images of the Earth have occasionally been uncovered after declassification of hundreds of thousands of spy satellite images by the National Imagery Mapping Agency (NIMA). In one of the more spectaular images, gathered on May 25, 2005, the apparent levitation of at least two Caribbean islands above the surface of the ocean was captured (above).

The islands are located in a large region popularly known as the Bermuda Triangle. The spy satellite imagery clearly shows shadows cast by two of the islands on the ocean surface in such a way that can only be explained if the islands are levitated above the ocean surface, in one case by approximately ten miles.

Officials at the two major satellite spy satellite agencies were contacted for comment on the finding. An unidentified source at the National Security Agency said, "We have no comment on the possible levitation of one or more Caribbean islands". Another manager at NIMA, who also refused to be identified, added "We have no comment on the possible levitation of one or more Caribbean islands"."

Stolen from here http://www.ecoenquirer.com/levitating-islands.htm

Since it is a humor site it could all be bullshit, which it looks like but what do I know? Levitating islands really aren't that abnormal. I once saw a whole town float by me. A whole town populated by nubile young models shouting "I wanna have, like 10,000 of your babies." True story, and that my friends is the reason I could be your father.

More Penguins

2006-12-11T20:36:00.001-08:00

It seems that I have become obsessed with penguins. To tell the truth this is not really anything new. When I was a wee youngin I actually had a penguin themed birthday party. Not sure how old I was but there was a penguin shaped cake, a penguin shaped pinata, and fun games like pin the tail on the penguin. Knowing what I know now about their pooping pressure I don't think i would attempt to pin the tail on that thing lest i be doused in a milky stream of penguin defication. Another thing that points to my penguin obsession is the fact that I was a penguin for halloween. This all may sound like lies but in actuality it is the truth. Very strange that I have made these last two posts about penguins without even thinking about my love for them as a child. So I may have been a little harsh on them in my last post, because in reality I love the little fockers. Their whimsical walks, their soft feathers and the way they snuggle up under your arm after a nice long late night romp. Watching the sun rise off the shore of thailand, sipping rum from coconut shells and singing brown eyed girl. Ohh those were the days. I'm looking at you Gertrude,more than anything i miss your beak, you remember, call me. Ok enough of that, sticking with the all penguin blog theme I have going here is a nice little video of a penguin going shopping. My pet goes shopping for me too, it's not really anything special, just thought I would share. You can watch it here, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p2Nc1kvAF3A&eurl= and giggle like a school girl when you see his little backpack and his sexy waddling ways. I know I did. I also started convulsing and woke up wearing a satin robe holding a pair of garden shears and wearing someone else's wig. But that probably won't happen to you so click away.

Penguins doo doo with much more force than you doo

2006-12-11T20:29:00.000-08:00

Let's look at scientific stuff. These are two images dealing with "Pressures Produced When Penguins Poo: Calculations on Avian Defecation." The paper was written by Jozsef Gal of Loránd Eötvös University (Hungary) and Victor Benno Meyer-Rochow of the International University Bremen (Germany) and the University of Oulu (Finland.) These guys examined not only the projection and direction of penguin feces, but also the internal pressure required by penguins to disperse their crap. Interesting stuff, I guess....I wonder how much their grant was.

I do have to admit that I did not know that penguin shit came out in such a forceful and focused spray. I would also like to admit that I am a better person now that I know this. These pictures and this paper have made me re-evaluate my life. Now I really think about the internal pressure that all animals generate when crapping and I have a new world view. That and I don't think of penguins as classy little creatures in tuxedoes that hold social mixers and cocktail parties anymore. You ae tarnished forever you foul shit spewing poultry. Maybe if you ever returned my calls or invited me to your little mixers it would have never come to this. But as you wish penguins...as you wish.

Today's Top story.....uhhhh, I have to go...

2006-12-11T20:26:00.000-08:00

I saw this on someone's site and thought it was hillarious, uhhhhh I think the search is over hahahaaaa

Is this Offensive??

2006-12-11T20:11:00.002-08:00

Ok so what do people think about these pictures below ? I have asked a couple people about these and I think that they raise some interesting questions. The questions are mostly only interesting to hyper sensitive asian american studies scholars or racists though. Oh and I guess people that like to take really small things and turn them into big arguments might find this discussion interesting. First off let me tell you who made these prints and ask whether or not who created these has anything to do with how you percieve them. These are a series of prints from Simon Legno. Simon is an itallian graphic designer and the owner of the Tokidoki label and its aesthic. He illustartes the characters, places them on le sportsac purses and renders them in designer vinyl figs and people eat this shit up.

Obviously he is very much influenced by Asian art his style blending anime girls and the japanimation look with an urban youth type vibe. Now does his portrayl of Asian women perpetuate the stereotypes of them being sexually charged and submissive. Is it insulting that a non-asian is drawing chinky eyed scantily clad women in revealing outfits almost fetishsizing them? Is the equivalent of this me drawing african americans with gigantic lips sitting on a fence eating watermellon? Or Mexicans wearing sombreros sweating in a field? Probably not, but does the race of the creator limit what they can draw and how they draw subjects? This is where I think it gets tricky. Of course you can't limit what an artist draws or say that only asians can draw asians or be influenced by asian art. I agree, and I feel like I have little to support any other view than this. But at the same time the argument about this exists. Can I as an Asian American male write a novel where the main character is an African American and not be seen as perpetuating stereotypes and broad characterizations? I guess if I am good enough and aware enough I could. But what do i really know about african american life, why should i even be weighing in on this. Any portrait that i paint must be influenced by who I am. Or am I worng, does literature and art have a way of reaching across the boundries and the process of creation is colorblind. In truth, Simon might actually know more about Asian culture than I do, does me being Asian give me an automatic pass, when I write about Asians? I guess it would kind of have to but can you kind of see what I am talking about?

I know that Simon loves asian culture and the people in Japan and the asians here in the states jock his shit. There is respect from both sides, but I am purely approcahing this as an antagonistic thin skinned, race card playing person. The devil's advocate, the political asian that organizes the boycott of abercrombie and fitch and the ray fong shoe. I just wonder if this is something that would be taken on as a cause of these people. The slanty eyes can be seen as pretty bad in my opinion, can you draw asians and have them be seen as asians without just thick ass black lines representing eye slits?

I guess that they are not overtly sexual. I only may be seeing them that way because of my own stereotypes. I have to admit I see an asian woman and I either think slut or dragon lady. Oh those Asian whores, always doing whatever the white man wants, can't even understand their broken engrish, something about me love u long time. I can feel their long silky hair right now, oooh and their small feet , I love small asian feet. Sorry I got carried away. Anyways I think that you could argue that the women in these pictures are supposed to be objects of desire and portrayed as being sexy and or attractive. One of them is holding a diamond, and diamonds in my book equal desire, sex, and severed limbs. But that's another story. Seriously though I think you could make an argument that these could be seen as offensive, yakuza tattooed Japanese chicks in short skirts bending over while barely able to see through their thick black eye slashes. Is this a better representation of asian

This was done by Yumiko Kayukawa. She is Japanese does this make her work less offensive? Well yeah kinda, first off because this picture isn't offensive, she is just lifting up her shirt so that she can sew it easier and second she has eyes. She still has the yakuza tatts but I think in reality all Japanese people have if not full, then at least half sleeves. You just never see them because they are wearing their long sleeve office clothes. You know Japanese people always work so hard, they are very dependable people.

I think the one above might be the most offensive but if a white guy can write memoirs of a geisha then Simon should be able to make this right? What about the one below is that offensive? Who really cares right? Most art is offensive to somebody and I think that if the underlying message is not intended to offend then there should be no problem. I am sure that the picture below could be explained as taking the stereotype of the submissive asian on her hands and knees and flipping it by giving her stylish clothes and floating cherries. Also, is being subserviant to your baby tiger wrong? The answer to this question is a resounding no. The real question is, is not being subserviant to a muddy pawed baby tiger wrong? I think you know the answer, muddy baby tiger gets what muddy baby tiger wants, thats how it has always been and thats how it should always be.

Well this has sure dissolved into a rambling mess. Let me see if I can sumarize what my point was. Does race factor into what an artist can create and whether or not it is seen as offensive. I like Simon's prints and i would consider getting some, but I think that I might feel better if they were done by an asian. That's just me though people can obviously look past who created it and I think that in reality they should. I just have this jumbled idea that somehow someone could argue against his art and his representations of asian women, but I don't know if they wold have the same reactions if he was asian. Do you think this is true or is it just me tryin to think like an angry asian american studies professor? Did any of this make sense or was it all as mashed up and jumbled together as it felt for me as I wrote it. I didn't proofread it either so that could add to it, I think I said the same thing 5 times but who's counting right? Was this even close to an interesting issue or just pure madness that makes no sense at all.

Music Reviews: J5 and Swollen members

2006-12-11T20:11:00.001-08:00

I just bought some new music, I got the new Roots, J5, and Swollen Members. The Swollen has been in my car for awhile, it has gotten the most play our of the three. I like theJ5 the second best and I still need to give the roots a thorough listening. The swollen is very swollen-like, does that make sense? They sound like what you would expects, there is no new style/sound to them. I actually appreciate this, I am all for artistic license and evolving your sound, but I also like consistency. I didn't buy the Swollen album to hear chanting monks or dying emus wailing over break beats and the banging of pots and pans. Thankfully there is none of this type of stuff on the album. They keep it fresh but still keep their sound intact. Give it a listen, it has some good stuff on there. Check out their myspace or their website, and listen to Black Magic, it's a dope ass song, and there are plenty more where that came from. The new J5 is far from being innovative or new in relation to their artistic progression. It actually sounds like they de-evolved and warped back in time to the days of the parkside cyphers and the original boom bap funk. Now J5 has always sounded like they came from the golden age of rap but this album seems to be even more focused on the fun and party vibe thing that rap had going for it in the beginning. They have some of those old sugar hill gang type beats and I am not mad at them. The album has been enjoyable so far but I haven't gotten all the way through it. There is one huge problem that I have with the album though. That horrible single with Dave Matthews. That song is a stinking piece of shit. The two sound as cohesive as oil and water. Just because he had some hits in the early nineties it does not make it a good idea to link up with him for a hip hop song. The shit sounds disjointed like two people that have nothing in common and no reason to be in the same room were forced into the studio. Dave's voice is out of place, He just does not have the kind of voice that works as a hook or for the chorus of a hip hop song. His twangy slow delivery, and his leg kicking weird dancing guitar playing ass should not be singing with J5. The beat is not hip hop, it's like some magic wonderland, bluesy, folk songy, chirpy birds and butterscotch bullshit and the whole thing is crap, crap, crap. That chorus is just so bad, whenever his voice comes on that song I just want to punch him in the face. It is the worst collaboration since Kobe Bryant and Tyra Banks. What? You didn't know that Kobe Bryant and tyra Banks had a song together? Well you better axe somebody, it's called K.O.B.E, maybe, I don't remember what the fuck it's called, all I know is that Tyra sings the hook and Kobe can't rap for shit. Here is a sample of the chorus"K-O-B-E I L-O-V-E you, promise i'll never leave you" or some shit like that, I dunno, it's over the everlasting bass beat too. Weaaaaaaaak. Check it out though, I have it on my computer just to laugh at. Much like any song by the streets. Do you know the streets? The supposed hip hop star from the UK? The guy that everyone jocks as being hella tight and the greatest thing to happen to hip hop? Only cool people like the streets. He was all the rage in the magazines years ago and everyone touted him as hot shit carrying the hip hop torch for England. Have a listen and tell me he isn't crap. If this is the best that England has got then you can keep his sorry ass. I would rather listen to Phil collins. His rhymes are so freaking weak and his delivery is like me talking into a mic if I layed down and sipped a margarita while hopped up on vicodin. Talking over a beat is not rapping. Here are some of his lyrics. Remember all he does is talk with little to no emotion. Who's round is it? Down that beer quick smash my glass back down fall over the table All rowdy and pissed Seems the only difference between mid week shit and weekend is how loud I speak And whether I try to pull a girlfriend That's it who's got dough? Hey, you know I'd pay but I'm broke, only got coinage to show Putting off walking home on my own to my thrown Two empty takeaways ashtrays and remains of the day stoned Pick a bottle off the table, peel the label tell a fable Offer opinion for free and a solution to the latest big news story Football and smut daily as I ponder winning the lottery Buy a drink, chat to a lady, the girls well fit definitley, not maybe, she's rude I'd shag her and make tea right thereDownload it to listen to how shitty he really sounds, I can't believe people like this douche. Is it just because he is british? Is it because he is white? Either way if you are white and british and you can't rap for shit and sound like a retard, you still sound like a retard. Outside factors should not affect your review of his music. If you can tell me that this is the kind of shit that you would listen to, in your car, in a club, in your room, actually at any time at all, then I don't want to know who you are. MC Paul Barman is better than this dude. Shit Princess Superstar would school this guy with her mic skills and that's saying a lot.Don't know how I feel about the roots album, have to listen to it more. Oh yeah and Zion-I and the Grouch just came out with their collabo album, heroes in the city of dope. I haven't heard it yet, but shiet those two can't fuck up in my book. Buy it I am sure it will be good. Support your local underground cats, that actually have skill. Dave Matthews and The Streets sick!!!

Art Picks

2006-12-11T16:27:00.004-08:00

Should I buy this? I have been spending waaaay too much money on art, but I kinda like this piece. It's by Sylvia Ji. I have seen her stuff at gallery shows and she is based in Sf. Her work is usually too creepy for me but this one seems like I would actually have somewhere to hang it. What do you think? Check out her site here..http://www.sylviaji.com/ and the shop here http://www.theartprint.net/artwork.php?artist=00013 see that spider one? Feel me on the creepy?

Just bought this piece sans the photoshop frame, can't really see the detail but I thought it was dope and had to buy it. It also by a guy that I am a huge supporter of. He is involved in the vinyl toy scene, which brings flashes of 40 year old virgin (I am guilty of owning some of those glass display cases for my figures) but trust me his art is top notch. There is a lot of talent pooling in the underground, I just add to buy this piece and support someone doing their own thing and coming with unique style that really appealed to me. The piece is by Dear Earthling who resides in Seattle. Check him out....http://www.dearearthling.moonfruit.com/
I thought I was going to buy these awhile ago but I never did, what do you guys think? Click on the shop and then the prints will be there, I posted the pics but the links broke so you will have to check them out on your own. They are by Stella Im Hultberg, check her out right about....here http://momomoogie.com/
I am also really digging Amy Sol, She doesn't have prints and I can't afford an original but her work is just amazing, maybe when I am a grown up I can cop a piece.
Check out more of her stuff here, http://www.amysol.com/

Ok I have realized that I like art with girls in it, well I guess one of the things I posted has hummingbirds, so i like hummingbirds and girls. Is that wrong? Check out Audrey Kawasaki, kinda along the same path as Sylvia Ji, some of her stuff creeps me out, but I like a lot of her stuff too.
Enough with the girls I guess, this is some stuff from Doze Green's recent show in Ny at the Jonathan Levine Gallery. Doze is way outta my price range, but I bought some "Art" posters a couple years back, haha they will have to do I guess, check out some of his recent work. This guy has been holding it down forever Rocksteady Represent!!! Be sure to click on these and check out the full size photos, much more quality.
Check out his site, it's hella old but it has a lot more of his work there. check in the gallery, I like his work from 2002 http://www.dozegreen.com/

Anyone that really knows me, knows that I am a big Sam Flores fan. Soooo can't talk about art without showing some of his stuff, these are from his last solo show in philly at the lineage gallery

Here is his site http://www.samflores.com/ and here is his blog http://samflores-12grain.blogspot.com/

In the same crew as Sam, while kinda same crew, both are living in SF and work a lot with Upper Playground, is Jeremy Fish. His stuff is more cartoony but it still appeals to me. Check it out below (These are prints and drawings)
You get the gist of his stuff right?
I like some of buffmonster's work too, why? Because pink is gangsta that's why!!!
I kinda like Ogi, he is from Japan

I was thinking about picking this up too (Link broke just check the link and see his stuff), it's from deviant art, by some guy in switzerland or something. Don't really know who he is but his stuff is pretty good. http://moodswing08.deviantart.com/gallery/

Is this one too geeky? Like an anime geek type scroll thingy (Picture isn't showing click his link)?
http://www.deviantart.com/print/348821/
Dave Kinsey below
Found another Doze holla!!
Check out Tes One, he is tight
Alright that's all I can think of right now. Probably more to come later...

I Have a Problem

2006-12-11T16:27:00.003-08:00

It's not like a problem that only I have. It seems to be a pretty prominent issue in almost everyone's life. It's just that when I talk to people they all seem to be headed to better places than me. Promising careers, promising futures, that sort of thing. I say, "So how are things going with you?"

"Oh everything is great, I just got a new job and I am going to move to D.C. I am really excited." Or, "Not bad just trying to finish up this law school thing." It's just stuff like that, I'm going back for my masters, I just got promoted, I'm really excited. I know other people feel like me but it just seems like I am a sad story. A could have should have parable. The epitomy of a wasted life. Maybe that's a little overdramatic, a little untrue but I definitley don't say I have anything I am excited about in regard of a career. I envy the fact that people have paths that they are glad to be on. When they tell me what they are doing I think wow that sounds cool, I am really happy for you. It's the truth, I am happy for them but I feel bad for myself. I wear self pity well, it's like my favorite shirt.

Now you might be saying well you can do all of these things too. This is true as well, I could do all of these things, but why don't I? Is it laziness? Is it complacency? Is it just apathy? The answer is yes. But it could also be because I don't know what path I should even be going down. These people are into their careers, they have a destination and they are in the process of moving towards this destination. I on the other hand am completly clueless. I have no destination, i have no map, I don't even know if I am in the right country. This is why I envy these people. They make lots of money, they like what they are doing, and they are happy that this will be their future. I make no money, I don't like what I am doing, and I am just unsure if I can continue on my current trajectory. They say "So what's new with you?"

I think for a second and I don't want to tell them how I really feel so I just make up stories to distract from the real conversation. "Oh you know same ol same ol, I am going to have to get another van though, I never knew that kidnapping kids required so much time on the road, and boy when they start kicking, they are like mules, this one kid busted out a window, yeah so I figured instead of just fixing the window I would just get another van, I think the parents were onto the old van anyways, it did have too strong of a kidnapper vibe." They respond by laughing and then I turn the conversation back to them. Evading the question, not wanting to admit to the reality of my life. The blandness that is regurgitated daily. The cycle that I sit in, the merry go round of complacency.

Just today I was stacking boxes in the store room and one of the older employees started talking to me, you know the usual stuff, something about how he thought I was a student and then where did i go to school, that kind of crap. But as I answered him I just realized that I am better than this place. I said to him I have two degrees and at that moment it just hit me, a person with two degrees should not be in a store room stacking boxes. Did I really have to go to school for this, shouldn't I be doing more? I know the answer I just don't know what to do about it. People always tell you find something you love and just do that. Okay that sounds simple enough, why doesn't everyone just do this? Maybe because it's pretty hard to find something you love to do and get paid for it. Sure I have interests, not one of them would provide the basis for full time employment.

This always leads me back to debating whether one should enjoy their work, or use work as a way to enjoy their life. I know lots of people that hate their jobs, but hey they do it, they do it so they can go home and enjoy themselves, it's work for christ's sake, it is just so that you can earn money. But I also realize life would be a lot more enjoyable if you liked your work and wanted to be there. Of course it would that just makes sense, but seriously how many people are lucky enough to have this happen. In my head I can hear a voice say as many people that are willing to work for it. I agree with this voice but I pose this question to you voice in my head, what is my dream job? This is where the problem is, I have no direction, no path that is calling me, and then the voice says well you have to find the path, and I say to the voice my aren't we snippy today, exactly how do i find this path? And the voice is like research, internships, getting off your ass and finding something you like doing. At this point I admit defeat and say you win, I should be out there looking for something, and I really emphasize something, because seriously how do you find this something, like I emphasize it like yeah that something will sure be easy to find, and I would insert a "not" in there but voice can already tell I am being sarcastic so I just end it with you so crazy voice in my head. Which causes voice to giggle because he always giggles when I talk like that and he says yeah crazy, crazy like a fox. Which makes me agree, not because he is crazy like a fox but more so because that's the correct response whenever someone uses the word crazy. So then I ask voice, I say so what do I do just quit my cushy job and just randomly start applying to stuff? I have benefits my friend, I have a retirement plan, I have upward mobility, I have a paycheck. Voice scoffs and he says, you don't make shit, do you really want to move up in this organization? You do have good benefits though. Yeah good benefits I tell him, like the ability to come in late and leave early, hoo-ha I yell and High five voice. He accepts the high five but I can tell it was just because he didn't want to leave me hanging, not because he agreed with me. After the high five we kinda just stare at each other, it's actually pretty sad. That gaze of dissapointment, I turn away as he says, look I'm just rying to look out for you, you could be better than this. Which you know, kind of makes me angry but I know what he is saying, so I tell him, you're right, and he is, it's just come on somebody make me a map. Push me in the right direction, I am pleading for a nudge. Voice just looks at me, telling me it's all on me, he actually says that's all you playa, but it was kind of embarrassing so I wasn't sure if I should have repeated it. Oh well sorry voice, it's out in the open now.

Anyways, I still don't know what I should be doing, where I should be going, I just know that I don't want to be a sad story. I don't want to be that guy that everyone says, man I thought he would have been more. I want to tell people what I am doing and have people say wow that sounds cool, or that is exciting good for you. I want to say good for me to myself, to get up and say I am excited about this day, this day of work in this job that i like, in this industry that is the industry of my dream job. I will try and work on it, I just feel like I should already have this all figured out, and I know that a lot of people are in the same boat and that I am not the only one like this. Which isn't really a comfort but it's something, I guess, ok so I am willing to try. You hear that voice, I said I am willing to try. I am not going to walk out of work right away and tell them I am better than them but I might start doing some research, I said might voice so don't start nagging me in a week. It's hard to find the correct path in the dark, it's rough stepping out there clueless and blind. I am just so lost right now, so directionless, my compass is spinning in circles, which will only be a problem when i choose a direction. Hopefully by then things will have worked themselves out, I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

Footprints are sticky

2006-12-11T16:27:00.001-08:00

So there is a thing called footprints where I can see why people have come to my xanga. Surprisingly none of the hits for my site have to do with my thought evoking musings about the daily diatribes of the Portuguese snail. In my scanning of who has been to my site I have noticed that people in Saudi Arabia search xanga for x-rated material. Maybe they are more verbiage inclined in their pleasure searches but I'm pretty sure you could find better stuff on the internet besides Xanaga's for such things. Maybe it's a censorship thing? Not really sure. The most common searches have to do with sex and asians, the one today was for hot asian ass. By retyping this here I probably just funneled a bunch of porn seeking literary horny men to my site. If I did so I apologize. There are no lurid texts on this site. There is no description of hot asians and or their asses. I was surprised that my stuff even came up in these searches but the most hit on item seems to be my short story about growing up in suburbia. Using the words sluts, asians, and college, are most likely the reason that this site even gets hits. How dissapointing to be hunting for descriptive text of adult type things and come upon my humble writings and boring rants. This si for the porn seekers, I apologize to you. You with your pants down around your ankles looking for hot asian ass. There is none here. But maybe there should be. I can see what the people want and maybe I should appease. How would you like that Mr. Saudi Arabia? Weekly sex logs about my hot asian ass sexcapades? Maybe your tastes are more spohisticated, instead of pictures and videos you prefer to form your own mental picture, you thinkers you. Good for you, don't let the media show you this stuff, run free in your imagination, entangle yourself in the words, reading is so hot. Ok this was just a public service announcement. I do write about asians, I do cuss, but AI do not have any sexually explicit materaial. And I do realize that as I write this me saying that these things are not here is only going to result in more hits from people looking for these things. At least let me see some geographic diversity. Other people must be as intellectual and imaginitive as the people in Saudi Arabia. Who else thinks reading about this stuff is hot? Georgia represent!!! In closing this is not what you are looking for, but if you would like to read my recipe for blueberry muffins, followed by a discussion of just what exactly the goo inside cadbury eggs is, please scroll down.

The Rules

2006-12-11T16:26:00.005-08:00

"You are like a crazy person calm down sir." I probably shouldn't have said crazy person, the customer being right and all but, I mean come on, he was a crazy person. or at least in my personal opinion he was displaying signs of being crazy.
"What did you just say? Did you just call me crazy? Where is your manager buddy?" He was red in the face, veins popping out of his neck, I was surprised that his glasses had not fogged up.
"The manager is off today sir, I am the assistant manager so I can take care of anything you need." I smiled that wide smile that was in the orientation video. The one that the salesperson does right after rule number one, "Always smile." It was one of our foundations of excellent customer service, I just had my teeth whitened the week before, so i really let him have it. A really big cheese showing that I was willing to be of assistance and that I would treat him like my own grandmother. That was rule number six, "Treat every customer like your grandma." Although my grandma is sort of hard of hearing so I kind of yell when I talk to her. She also has a dribbling problem, but I figured that I would not be feeding him oatmeal, so i wouldn't have to worry about that. I mean it wasn't meant to be interpreted literally. That's what Todd told me after customers complained that I had been speaking too loudly.
"Why are you smiling like that? Wipe that shit eating grin off your face, and take care of this." He was really mean I thought. Shit eating? What was that supposed to mean, I knew for a fact my teeth were a pristine white. At worst a mother of pearl but in no way were they brown, like I had been eating poop.
"Sir I have in no way been eating shit, and my grin was not mean to imply that I had, I am sorry that you have been offended by my smile, but it is one of our foundations of excellent customer service." I said as professionally as I could. I could not believe that he had insinuated such horrible things. I could see fire flashing beneath his eyes, a searing stare of hatred.
"This is not excellent customer service, and your smile seems to be patronizing me and you still are not fixing the problem." I didn't know how patriotic my smile had been but I did know that I loved America. If he did not love America then that was his problem.
"I am sorry that you did not like my smile sir, now what exactly was the problem again?" I probably should have remembered what it was, but I had gotten distracted by his accusations of eating shit and thinking about wiping oatmeal off of my grandma's chin.
"What the fuck!!! I have been telling you for the last five minutes what the problem is, how fucking dumb are you?" He was quite the meanie I said to myself. I may not be the smartest apple in the orchard but at least I was pleasant.
"I apologize sir, but I seem to have forgotten, please tell me what the problem is and how I may be of some assistance." I thought this sounded very official and business like. I was proud of myself, keeping my cucumber cool in the face of such a fiery meanie.
"Are you fucking serious? Ok obviously you are dumb as shit, your company is dumb as shit.."
"Excuse me sir but could you refrain from cursing, as a courtesy to those around you." I said politley whispering as I covered the side of my mouth and leaned towards him.
"What?? Look around jackass, it's just me and you in here, seriously I think you are the dumbest person that I have ever met, how the fuck are you the assistant manager?" A piece of spittle hit me on the forehead but i did not wipe it away so as not to seem rude. I only smiled at him maintaing my professional appearance. That is another rule but I can't remember what number. "Always appear professional," This is why my nails are always cut and my tie is always straight.
"Sir I have become the assistant manager through hardwork and perserverance." I smiled after saying this, saying to him, I have worked hard for this position and Todd thought that I was ready to be in charge.
"So basically everyone else quit and you kept showing up everyday? Right? How the fuck else could you be in charge, your company has lost it's fucking mind putting a retard like you in charge."
"Sir I am not mentally disabled, I am a courteous and reliable worker, now how may I help you?" I had read in the corporate maunal taht teh best way to diffuse a conforntation was to be nice to the agressor. Todd always said kill them with kindness. So that's what i tried to do, i tried to chop his legs off with my kindness, to hold his head underwater with my bright and cheery disposition. It wasn't really working today though. Maybe my kindness was to mean today, or my smile could not crack his meanie face and his angry eyes.
"No I would definitley say that you are borderline retarted, I almost feel sorry for you." This made me think that I was getting through. He empathized with me, he saw me as his equal. Maybe we were headed in the right direction.
"No need to feel sorry for me sir, I am very happy in my present situation." I turned my smile back on hoping that we could move forward towards sunshine and peanut butter cookies.
"Wow....no seriously..wow" I could see that I had amazed him with my professional attitude and my ability to strictly follow the corporate mandates. I felt as though I was winning him over.
"Ok listen up jackass, ok just stop smiling like that, seriously, stop it, look i reserved a car for tuesday the 12th at 5:00, now today is tuesday the 12th and it's now 5:15, so WHERE THE FUCK IS MY CAR!!!!" He really turned the volume up at the end. I said to myself I am not my grandma, i have no trouble hearing.
"Well sir if you had a reservation at 5:00 why are you 15 minutes late?" I folded my hands and looked at him, wondering how he could blame us for him being 15 minutes late.
"You fucking douchebag, I have been here since 5:00 talking to you, jesus christ you are the hardest person not to hit, you know that? I want to hit you so badly, but that would be like hitting a retard, and i don't hit retards, you keep fucking with me and i might change my policy."
"I see sir, so you were here at 5:00, ok let me check the computer and see if we have anything available." I turned my back to check the computer but he interupted me.
"You already checked and you said you had nothing available, now how can you reserve a car and then it is not available, that just doesn't make sense." I had forgotten that I had already checked so I thanked him for reminding me, he rolled his eyes and then asked, "So, what's the deal Einstein, you going to get me a fucking car or what?" I didn't know who Einstein was so I just nodded before saying.
"Well sir sometimes cars are over booked or a car is not returned on time, if you would like I can give you a form that you can then submit to reserve a car for later today." I reached for form number 906A and grabbed a pen so that he could fill it out. I held both out to him but he just stared back at me.
"Why the fuck would I reserve another car from you when you don't even have the first car that i reserved, cut the fucking red tape and get me a car yesterday!!!"
"Sir we do not have any cars to give at this time, maybe if you truly had reserved this car yesterday then we would have had one available."
"You know what I am going to get you fired, you are the worst person I have ever dealt with anywhere, I will be calling your corproate headquarters and you will be fired, it should be ilegal to have someone as dumb as you talking to people. You should be locked up in a closet and as far away from the customers as possible, I have never, i repeat never wanted to punch someone as badly as i would like to punch you. I will never rent from you again. Fuck you, Fuck your company, and you can take that form and that pen and shove them up your ass, you fucking moron!!!!" With that he stormed towards the the door as i called out after him.
"Thank you for choosing Baron Rentals, I hope that we provided the service that you needed and please stop by and see us again." I don't know if heard the last part becaude he had already slammed the door. It is required to say that though whenever concluding an exchange with a customer, i think that is is in the employee handbook. It is right after the part about keeping the breakroom clean and before the part about sexual harrassment. I was satisfied that I had done a good job, in helping him, another satisfied customer, i had done everything according to teh manual and that is how I have come so far and been so successful in this customer service field. I couldn't wait for odd to get back so i could tell him how well I had done in working the foundations of our manual into a real world situation. I smiled to myself as i leaned forward on the palms of my hands and whistled to myself, waiting for the next person that i would help. My smile was ready for them to walk through the door, i kept it wide and toothy, ready to kill them with my kindness.

Differences

2006-12-11T16:26:00.003-08:00

It wasn't supposed to be like this for several reasons. There were too many to name, but I could definitley do it if you wanted, but i don't want to so I won't. Ok one of those reasons was my baseball scholarship. They offered me a partial scholarship to go play in Dallas but mom got sick so i couldn't go and well you know after that my arm speed failed and the scouts forgot all about me. I'm not blaming mom, god rest her soul, I am just saying that, that is one reason right there. That isn't a small reason, that is one of the big ones, but i don't hold it against her, I mean she wanted me to go but what kind of son would I be. Ok mom you stay here, slowly die, coughing up your lungs and spitting blood into this pan, I will go out and play baseball. Come on who could do that? Not me that's for sure. Not to say things are bad, I get to spend my days with a great group of guys. Murphy is hillarious, when he does that trick where he balances the wrench on his finger and slowly walks around, man I just can't help but smile. Since Debbie passed I pack my own lunch, I eat it with the guys in the breakroom and we talk sports and guys stuff. Really it's not that bad, I don't even mean to be complaining, there are people that have it much worse than me. Maybe it's just since Deb is gone, the house is colder. It's not a heating problem, and it can't be fixed with insulation, it's more of a I dunno a feeling coldness. Does that make sense? Forgive me for not being able to express myself very good. But you might get the gist. I guess I just feel less alive these days. Kinda like a shell, like you know a truck frame. Up on the blocks, the engine gone, the windshield cracked. Like someone has slowly been stealing my parts. I mean I still have some parts, it's not like I am completeley broken, just maybe limping, due for a checkup. Need my tires rotated or something, a new starter, a new alternator, who knows. Maybe I just need a trade in. Anyways like I was saying this wasn't how it was supposed to be. I mean me not being a baseball player, I can deal with that. But I think i should have been more than what i am. I'm sure everyone feels this way from time to time, maybe even the king of switzerland or something but lately I have been feeling a lot more less satisfied with my place, my place in life. Deb would always say that, she would tell me that i could do anything, and i would smile at her and I would say all I want to do is come home to you. That would always get her and then i would hug her and lift her off her feet. I miss her, but there aint nothing one can do about that. The beat goes on right? Yep it sure does go on, but maybe a little slower, maybe a different beat, not like those war drums that make ya march forward with gusto, but more of a pitter patter that makes you tip-toe. Maybe that's just me though, I don't listen to music much anymore anyhows. Me and Deb used to love to just lay there and listen to music, I don't like to do it anymore because the songs all remind me of her. I mean not all songs but a lot of them. I am not saying that when I hear "Brick house" I start crying, but a lot of music just brings up memories I don't know if I should be toying with. That's how you get in trouble, you start listening to music, and before you know it you're sitting in the dark, listening to Hank Williams, crying your eyes out and cradling a shotgun. That's what happened to Russ Getty after he lost his kids in that fire back in 88, but no sir not me, i won't go that route. Like that red headed orphan i think the sun will come out tomorrow. The door should be shut and you move on. Don't wallow in the past like a pig in mud, you get up, clean yourself off and keep on moving. At least that's what I tell myself. Sometimes I believe it, but other times, I just look at that empty side of the bed, and there is no sun, my head rumbles with thunderclouds. That's what my mom used to say tears were, storms behind the eyes. Thunderclouds in your head, right ma? But weather changes and the sun will come out, eventually, the clouds break and it's bright day. I dunno, I have been in a blue mood for weeks though. Probably because of the anniversary, I usually get bad around that time, but that's natural right? Of course it is, that's what Miss Tyner says, that's my neighbor, she's a kind woman, she cooked for me and helped me get back on my feet after Deb passed. Really a sweet woman, she says that it's natural to be sad like that especially during the anniversary time, she just says not to brood around so much, she thinks I should go out more and get back on the scene. She means the dating scene, and I just tell her that she is sweet to help me, but i don't think I am ready for any such thing as that. I wouldn't have anything to offer anyone I think to myself, I don't say this to her because that's just the type of thing you say to someone when you want to hear a compliment. I don't need compliments, I just know the truth. It's not a great life i live but I am still thankful, it's the small things I say, the fact that the grass is green. Sometimes that is enough to make me smile, but I have to fight back all of that other stuff, so sometimes the thoughts of green grass don't work. Sometimes I have to say the grass is green, the birds are singing and I am alive. This usually works, but then again when I really think about my life i don't know if just being alive is enough to make me happy. But those are the bad days, and I try and keep those few and far between. I really do try and appreciate things, I try and not be sad at where I am in my life. But you know how it is. It should have been different for several reasons.

Public Transit

2006-12-11T16:26:00.001-08:00

"You haven't heard that before? What the fuck man?"
I hadn't heard it before, I didn't think it was a big deal, I wished he would lower his volume, I never liked holding conversations on public transport in the first place. The current conversation was even less public transport acceptable, I thought. I could tell that everyone was listening, not looking but listening. I caught small glances out of the corner of people's eyes, a disgusted furrowed brow from the elderly woman in the proper looking hat.
"Just keep your voice down man, maybe we should talk about this later." I pleaded for the conversation to end. They were all listening. I knew this because when you are on any form of public transportation, the only noises stemming from the whirring of the moving vessel, ones ears are automatically drawn to the voices of the other riders. I preferred to sit in silence, letting the loud person on their cell phone discuss their dealings, annponcing their troubles to the crowd, that was secretley listening.
"I just can't believe you never heard that shit, it means that you would really like to do her, like the same as, I would shove it so far in her the first person to pull me out would become the future king of England."
I snickered, invoulntarily, but I couldn't help it, i liked that one. I let him know as much. "Now that one makes more sense," I said.
"How does the other one not make sense?" He looked at me like I was speaking a different language. Like the meaning was so simple, straight forward. I still didn't get it.
"It just seems more demeaning than...I dunno loving?" I knew I hadn't phrased it right and I still didn't want to be talking about this, but everyone already thought we were crude assholes, so we might as well have carried on.
"Loving? Who the fuck said anything about loving? I'm talking about sticking it in her, there is no love neccessary for that my friend."
"Don't say my friend, it sounds weird, and do you have to be so crude? I lowered my voice on the crude part, highlighting how I thought we should be a little more respecrful of our fellow riders.
"Fuck the other riders this is like their goddamn dinner theatre, we should be charging them for this entertainment." It always amazed me how he acted the same in every situation, there were no different volume settings or knobs that he adjusted to different social settings. He was who he was and he didn't care what anyone else thought. It was kind of admirable, but really embarrassing.
"Shhh don't say fuck them, they are not entertained by us they just think we are assholes." His brashness made me feel meek. My awareness of social taboos and the observance of how to behave in cultural and social settings stood in direct contrast to his balls to the wind, don't give a fuck attitude. He made me feel regulated, chained to the fears of looking out of place. Like I should be stepping out of my social chains, breaking the rules of normality, not caring what a bunch of strangers thought about me.
"No for real fuck them, this is a private conversation, if they are listening that's their bad, I wouldn't stick it in any of these broads anyways, so fuck em."
"Jesus man just tone it down." I hurriedly whispered.
"I'm just saying i would not use the comment on them." He said steadfastly as he crossed his arms.
"Ok fine, but it seems to me if you didn't find them attractive then that's when you would do it. I don't know I still don't see why you would do that to someone who you think is attractive." It just didn't make sense, defiling someone in such a way. It seemed to be the opposite of showing someone that you found them visually appealing. It was like shoving someone's face in a pile of shit instead of giving them flowers. I couldn't grasp the concept.
"It just means that she is sooo hot that you would do anything to her...anything." He said as he nodded to himself, "Anything," he reiterated.
"It seems like it should be a negative and you would say she is so gross I would not even pee in her butt." I sunk down in my chair as soon as the words left my mouth. The elderly lady blatantly shook her head and shot me the evil eye. My cheeks flushed and I wished that I could tell her to go fuck herself like I'm sure he would have. Instead I lowered my eyes and studied my shoes, while she bore holes in me with her dissapproving lasers.
"No dude that's not how it works, it's she is so fucking hot I would pee in her butt, nothing negative about that."
"Ok so is it like she asks you to do it, and you normally wouldn't so you're like damn she is so hot that I will fullfill her request?" I asked in all seriousness.
"No it's just she is so hot I would pee in her butt." He said it so matter of factly, like this was a common thing to do to attractive girls.
"But I mean is it like she is so hot that she causes you to have a urination problem and you get so excited you can't hold it in? Like man she makes me lose control of my bodily functions type of thing?"
"No, there is no loss of bodily function, it is not per her request, it is just that she is so hot that you want to do that."
"I don't see how that would be, maybe it's because her butt is so hot that you want to urinate it to cool it off? Like damn somebody call the firetruck that ass is on fire." My face might was well have remained flushed the whole ride. i wished our stop would come. yet i persisted and he participated. We were both to blame, but i was just so confused by the saying.
"No dude just stop, with your theories, it is just that she is hot and you want to do it."
"But I would never want to do that to someone no matter how hot they were, and I don't think anyone wants that done to them, whoever first said that is just dumb." I sat back and looked out the window, the city whizzed by and my confusion still lingered. I don't know why I even cared, it was just a dumb saying, it just struck as being so illogical that I thought maybe it had some roots in logic, but I guess not.
"Just wait one day you'll find that special one, and then you can pee in her butt." He said smiling widely, like that was straight from a hallmark card.
"But..I would....nevermind I guess I just haven't found the right one." He wasn't right but I agreed, I looked at the elderly lady and she avoided my eyecontact, we rolled along, the bumps jolting us up and down. Newspapers rustled and we continued on in silence.

Office Clone

2006-12-11T16:25:00.005-08:00

My brain is melting, slowly leaking out into a puddle of uselessness. Lack of activity leading to atrophy. Motor skills are next to go. My brain has been idling too long, the exhaust causing me to choke, but still I remain in the garage. Standing in this comfortable spot of unmotivation. The floor worn down in a small circle from my pacing. The track that I walk, the same path that I tread. Constantly moving in the same direction but never advancing. Bloodshot eyes even though I have slept adequatley. Bloodshot eyes to color this bland world. Something to add a tint to this blandness. Spreadsheets and numbers raining down like acid, copier codes and fax numbers like evil needles that slowly bleed me dry. Soon only a puddle will remain, too lazy to mop it up. A mother bird spitting out the chewed up food from the past, feeding it to myself. Balancing on a spiderweb of the future unsure whether to jump off or just fall back into it's silky arms. A spiderweb hammock made from strings of given up dreams and 401k's. A closet full of dress shirts, everyday dressing for my funeral. The walking dead stumbling through the office. In a barnhouse full of asses, thinking I am the only cock. But my chest doesn't protrude, I have no prideful crow, I have weak whimpers of agreement, small nods of understanding. Shuffling papers that I would rather burn, answering calls that I would rather ignore. Thinking of death in the elevator, knowing that the future could be much brighter. Still, what if this plummeted to the ground right now, would I be happy for my early retirement. Would they have a potluck or cake in my memory. Deaths posted like announcments for parties. My picture staring back as people asked, who is he? How did he go? I don't think I ever saw him here. That's because I am already a ghost, a phantom in a cube, slinking by you and out the door. As soon as that little hand reaches that tick I will dissappear floating above you, transported away, smiling knowing the day is done, my sentence served. Coming home to love and warmth, shedding this cape that cloaks my identity. Washing my face with bourbon, changing my head with the thoughts of the weekend. Taking my smile out of my drawer and placing it back on my face. The nightime gets this smile, it is a nocturnal animal, happiness does not like the light.

The Start of Nothing deux

2006-12-11T16:25:00.003-08:00

The trees stood like sentinels guarding us and guiding us down the highway. The blue sky spread it's arms above us, the white clouds dotting the canvas of the sky. The music going in rhythm to the dips and turns of the road, I thought of you. When we stood on the cliff, the mist from the sea frosting our faces I thought of you. Staring out into the endless waters, the sky fading from purple to black, I thought of you. When I watched the stalks of green swaying under the influence of the sea breeze, I thought of you. When the waitress dropped our food, the soup splattering the floor I thought of you. The nights at the bars, the conversations with the homeless, the trips to the market, I thought of you. You were always with me, sharing in these moments. A smile in the corner of my mouth as I wished you were there. Little moments meaning so much more when you are with me. When the conversation in the car fizzled out and we turned to our thoughts you were there. Watching the trees rush by, the moon hung high, you were there. When the trip might be extended, I feared it would keep from you for even longer. I wanted to come back as soon as possible, to see you, to be with you. Like a moth drawn to the fire I was ushered back home to you.

Man my creativity is so weak right now, I can't even write anything, this is why I could never be a writer, I aint got shit to say

Lost

2006-12-11T16:25:00.001-08:00

She was a constant. Always there, he never considered the possibility that one day she would be gone. Picturing the way things should have been, in his mind they should have been together forever. She was proof that his life was good. His job was thankless, his existence mundane, but she made the days better. At least he had her, he would say. It all should have been avoided. The end should have been diverted, thrown to the ground and wrestled to submission. But it had fought back, it reared it's head like so many times before, and while he slept peacefully it wrapped it's hands around them. It cloaked them in it's darkness and they had to separate to escape the murky fog that choked them. When he broke free from it's grasp he emerged into the fresh air, but she was gone. He would have prefered to choke forever if he knew she would be gone when he came through to the other side. Though the day was bright and the air was fresh, he pined for the darkness that had contained them. Because it had contained Them, he was not alone, as he was now. The sun streamed through the trees while twitters from the birds floated from a place out of sight. He could not feel the warmth of the sun, as it beat down on his open hands. The end had stolen it, displaced his heart in that cloud of black. He wondered if she could taste the fresh air, if she was glad to be wherever she was. The ghosts of their unborn children circled linking hands and mouthing words that he could not decipher. Their future home was now a pile of rubble, a stairway leading to nothing. It basked in the brightness as a tear slid down his cheek. He walked over to it, the wreckage of his dreams, piled high in the opening of the trees. There were pictures with singed edges, blurred photos of things that could have been. Like a plane crash of hope, the shattered pieces of his future happiness. He sat on a pile of rocks and drywall holding his head in his hands. He slowly shook his head from side to side, cursing the sun for smiling down at him. If he could choose the weather he would have sat in a downpour of self pity. THe rain drenching his clothes like the pain had drenched his body. But the weather stood in defiance, acting as if this was the way things should have been all along. Their imaginary world was never meant to be, they were all illusions, floating dreams that had been swatted bck down to reality. He shivered in the warmth of the sun, refusing to believe that she was not the one, wanting to lay beside her and hear her breathe. The jagged ruins of their home, the wreckage of youthful love, sighed in a collective moan that echoed the exhale of his spirit. His thoughts were all abstractions, flashes of memories and things that would never be. His eyes were red from the pain, the hole in his chest trickled blood, the only remnants of his heart. She would always have that he said, hoping it would not get buried in her attic of memories, wishing it would be the centerpiece on her mantle. He feared she would sell it, package it up and never hold it again. He wanted her to carry it with her, take care of it, because it was the was the most important gift he had ever given her. It was hers and only hers, she had laid claim to it and he gladly handed it over. She left with his heart and he left with the rubble of what was once a beautiful home. He rocked back and forth wondering if he would ever leave it. An opening in the trees, a house in shambles, people say they still see him there, the man with the hole in his chest. He wanders the lot, looking at burnt pictures, curling up on crumbled floors, sifting through his derailed possibilities, dreaming of the darkness, refusing to feel the sun, thinking of her...

Fin

2006-12-11T16:24:00.004-08:00

The last pages of a book always made him sad. They too blatantly signified the end. He hated endings, he prefered the perpetual cycle of progression. The chance that moving towards something was better than completing it. He ofetn thought about endings. As he walked the streets thinking if that car didn't pause for him to cross in front of it, his end would arrive. The small problems that nagged his existence would also end. If he turned the wheel slightly to the right he could race off into the waters departing his progress, his wandering life. The biggest task completed, closing the cover of his novella. Yet the end discounted the possibilities, the tiny joys and excitement that could very well be around that unseen corner. This kept him away from his ending while also inadvertently leading him towards it. There was no avoiding it but he could postpone it. The sun drenched fields were enough to bring a smile to his face. The sun that constant guard over his world...

Ladies Love Assholes

2006-12-11T16:24:00.003-08:00

"Take that off man you like a douche." His eyes scanned him up and down
assesing his friend's current state and reinforcing the previous
comment.
"Whaaaat you're crazy man chicks love shit like this." He
said as he tried to flatten out his wrinkled shirt that read, "Who
wants to get pregnant?"
"That is one of the most insulting shirts I
have ever seen." Jacob was dressed casually, his lankey frame draped
with a button up shirt and a pair of jeans. Not anything flashy, it was
like the party uniform, there would be many more just like him and
this made him feel comfortable. Conforming to the masses was better
than standing out and looking like an ass he said to himself.
"Stop being a fucking feminist, this shit is just asking a simple question. It's not a demand, jesus, so prissy tonight."
"I
am just saying that is a pretty bad shirt for this party, we don't even
know Sarah that well." He did know her pretty well, at least in college
terms, a couple classes together, a couple of hours of studying
together and one extracuricular activity like getting coffee pretty
much meant they were good friends now. He just didn't like Marcus'
shirt.
"You just fucking watch dude when i roll up in this piece
those bitches will be screaming at me, ooh me, no pick me, pleeease
impregnate me, then I'll be like oooh yeaaah you want a bebe, then come
to daddy yeeehaaaa, you just watch dude." As he played out this scene
he had done the high pitch voice for the girls and waved his hands in
the air like a young Japanese girl who had just spotted her favorite
pop star. Before going into the acting out of doing a girl from behind
while swinging his arm in the air like he was twirling a lasso.
"Haha
yeah we'll see." He had to laugh but he didn't want to condone his
behavior, what the hell am I supposed to do he said to himself, this is
my life, my friends are morons.
"How much farther is this place man,
I can't smell any pussy yet, I thought you said it was close." They had
only been walking for two minutes and the place was only about a mile
from their other friend's place. Marcus was just like that, are we
there yet? Jacob thought he might have a.d.d., but then again he also
thought everybody his age had a.d.d.
"Calm down we're almost there,
and just out of curiosity do you think that girls want to be with an
asshole? Like I know that's just how you are but do you think you chose
this role at some point because you thought it would get you more play
or why are u like that?" That was probably the most serious question he
had ever asked him, they usually just got drunk and talked about sports
or chicks, nothing philispohical or meaningful. Jacob wasn't neutered, though he was just more subdued. They made a
strange team these two, one so loud and braggadocious the other quiet
and introspective. But college makes for strange relationships and beer
was the only thing they needed to have in common.
"What the fuck are
you talking about man, why are you the way you are wahhh you sound like
doctor Phil, fat fucker." This didn't answer the question but Jacob
left it alone
Soon they came upon the house, the lawn was littered
with red dixie cups and the sounds of some dance music floated above
the fence in the backyard. They followed the tiki torchs around the
side of the house and entered through a wooden gate. There was a large
amount of people, no one was dancing and no one rasied their hand to
invite Marcus to impregante them. They saw the line for the keg and
headed in that direction, squeezing through groups of people having
seperate conversations from the people they stood right next to.
Scattered social groupings that rarely mingled, the parties consisted
more of coming with some people, standing around and drinking with
those same people, while looking at other people and the friends they
had come with. Once in line they both turned around and scoped out the
scene.
"We should have brought our own beer man, I hate this shit."
Jacob said as he peered over his shoulder eyeing the masses for a
familiar face.
"Didn't i say that earlier asshole, always bring your
own shit, good thing we pre-partied at chad's." Jacob couldn't believe
that Marcus could be so comfortable in that shirt. It was bright red
with the question printed in large white letters, where the hell do you
even find a shirt like that he thought.
"Yeah I am still buzzing a little, what kind of beer you think they have."
"Probably some fucking natty or miller light, I dunno is this bitch rich?"
"Uhhh actually I have no idea, but even rich people don't buy expensive beer for hella people they don't know."
"Then
why are u asking man it's gonna be shitty beer, it's a fucking kegger,
quanity over quality." Marcus smiled as he said this as if this was his
life's mantra.

After they had filled their cups they migrated
to a less densly populated area of the yard, taking a step back from
the masses of youth that bundled into big mob of red cups and
boisterous yells.
"You see anything promising?" Jacob asked, he
knew he was asking for more than he wanted but there wasn't anyone else
around them and they still hadn't found their other friend's so Marcus
was the only person he could talk to.
"Nah these girls look to
bougie, you know those stuck up broads." Marcus said, a little more
subdued in the presence of others. His brash talk reserved for those he
knew would not take him that seriously.
"Where are the ladies with
their hands up buddy haha?" Jacob taunted him knowing that Marcus had a
way better chance of getting a girl that night than he did.
"Give it
some time, I just gotta find that sad girl, that one with the low self
esteem, those are the easiest ones to pick off." He laughed as he said
this knowing that it was wrong but also knowing that he had pulled the
same sort of thing on several occassions.
"Haha that's fucked up
man, so you see the limping rabbit and just run up on it and shoot it
in the head? Wow you are such an asshole." Jacob said this as he mulled
over the fact that he wished he could be more like him. Not to such an
extreme he thought but, he did need a little more asshole in him he
thought. Jacob had not had many relationships and had only had sex a
handful of times. He always sent out the friend vibe, that puppy dogs
and ice cream kinda feel. The asshole vibe definetly got more results,
but from what kind of people he wondered. Nice guys finish last rattled
in his head as he looked at marcus bobbing his head and tipping back
his cup, completley unaware of the shirt and anything that he didn't
want to see. Everything was gravy for Marcus, girls came easily,
schoolwork wasn't stressed over, Marcus was one happy asshole.
"Hey I see Sarah let's go say what's up." Jacob said as he started walking towards the house.
Alright, tell her to introduce me to some of her special lady friends."
Marcus said grinning as he sauntered after Jacob.
"Hey Sarah what's up, you look good tonight" Jacob said blushing a little.
"Ohh you made it Jacob, thanks you know I dressed up for you haha." Jacob wished she hadn't laughed after she said that.
"Hey
this is my friend Marcus, Marcus Sarah, Sarah, Marcus." He also wished
he would have said something clever to hint at the fact that he wished
she wouldn't have laughed. He wondered what Marcus would have said.
Damn right bitch you better dress up for daddy, or hey why bother with
clothes we both know we won't be needing them later tonight, u naw
mean? Maybe not that forward, maybe something in his voice but less
platonic than normal, well you look beautiful as always kinda made
sense but he didn't want to sound like a pussy, people always know what
they should have said a couple hours after it happens, it will come to
me later, but that's no good he thought he should have done it then.
"Nice to meet you" Marcus said as he grabbed her hand.
"Nice to meet you too" Sarah said her eyes squarely on Marcus.
"So
we were having a debate on the way over here, maybe you can help us
out, Jacob here was being a little feminazi and saying my shirt was
insulting or some shit, so what does a lovely lady like yourself think,
you know any takers?" As he said this Marcus flashed his smile, his teeth
showing, saying I am not a friend I am a possibility. Jacob cringed feeling embarrased. He began to apologize but Sarah began to speak.
"Well it's pretty early I'm sure that there will be some takers later, haha, I love that shirt, it's hilarious. Where did you get it?" Jacob was stunned but he should have known better, whatever Marcus did the girls loved him. He imagined if he was wearing the shirt Sarah would have slapped him.
"Umm I actually don't remember, somewhere classy though." Marcus took a sip from his cup after winking at Sarah. Jacob wanted to know if the thick layers of cheese would be off putting.
"Right only the classiest places sell shirts like that, you're funny." Sarah said, was she flirting with him? Jacob thought maybe he should something overly masculine to try and garner more of her attention. Should he smash a beer can on his forehead? Maybe roll up his sleeves and flex while looking her up and down and licking his lips? Does this kind of shit really work? He had always heard the theory that confidence was a really powerful quality when it came to attraction but he also thought there was a thin line between confidence and cockiness. Sarah must be able to tell that Marcus is an asshole, or is that just the thing, was this a clear cut example of the asshole at work? Attracting girls like white trash to mcribs?
"So Jake what have you been up to, I've missed seeing you on campus." Sarah said returning to Jacob who had to leave his thoughts and return to the party.
"Oh you same ol same ol, just work and class, what have you been up to?" He should have said that he missed seeing her too. Instead his answers displayed little confidence and came out hushed comapred to the volume of the party. Sarah leaned in closer to him, turning her ear so that it was closer to Jacob's mouth.
"What? Sorry I didn't hear you." Jacob was close to her ear now and caught the light scent of her hair. He leaned in closer like he had a secert just for her, the situation making him feel like he was in elementary school again.
"Oh I said that I miss seeing you around to, we should get together more, maybe catch a movie or go to dinner." Jacob recoiled from her ear soon after saying this. His face felt flush and his ears were heating up. He hadn't expected to say such things but he was glad that he had put it out there. He looked at Marcus who cluelessly panned the crowd and sipped from his red cup.
"Jake" Sarah said giving him a playful nudge, "Are you asking me out on a date?" Was she flirting with him he thought? She smiled at him and he read it as a good sign. He leaned back in to share more secrets, when he could have just spoken louder.
"Well...what if I am?" He stood attentive preparing for whatever she may say.
"Well if you are then I would say yes, I think that would be fun."
"Ok then yeah I am asking you out on a date."
"Jake you are too cute, so proper, alright we'll have to set that up, stay here, I'm gonna go get another drink." She dissappeared into the crowd and Jacob sighed in relief.
"So what's up dude was she jocking me or what?" Marcus said suddenly cloer to Jacob.
"Actually she just agreed to go out to dinner with me." Jacob replied a little cocky.
"Ahh nice one buddy, she's a keeper, I would do her for sure." Marcus raised his cup in cheers and Jacob appeased him.
"I'm sure you would Marcus." Jacob was actually glad that Marcus was there, if not for him he might not have ever asked her on a date. He was spurred into action by Marcus' presence, the threat of him. The possible flirting and

Uhhhhhhhhhh I dunno what I just did to this, I think it might be better if Marcus takes sara and Jacob is just stuck being the nice guy I'm not sure though, just bored at work and thought this one could start moving somewhere, I think I might have been wrong

Survey Says!!!

2006-12-11T16:24:00.001-08:00

I was sent a survey, everything you ever wanted to know but were afraid to ask is here, read and learn all about me

1. FIRST NAME? Christopher

2. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? I don't think so, maybe the guy that got lost then came here claimed it as his own and was responsible for the anihilation of the native peoples.

3. WHEN DID YOU LAST CRY? When I found out that Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston had broken up
4. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? My hand writing is more beautiful than the sistine chapel's ceilings, if you saw it you weep and then gouge your eyes out because you know that you would never see anything more beautiful

6. KIDS? I have many seedlings scattered across the dusty plains

7. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU? No I am not friends with people who smell like monkeys

8. DO YOU HAVE A JOURNAL? Yes it is a my little ponies diary from 4th grade, it has my crushes and interior design ideas for my dollhouse

9 . DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT? Never, I avoid sarcasm like I avoid telemarketers

10. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS? I actually have my originals and another set that were a gift to me from Angela Landsbury

11. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? Yes because I am exxxxtremmmeeee

12. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? nerds and pop rocks in a bowl with pepsi

13. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF? I have velcro shoes

14. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG? I don't like to brag but I can benchpress your car with an entire malaysian village sitting shot gun while holding 6,000 pounds of trout

15. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR? Elmer's Glue
17. RED OR PINK? Fuschia

18. WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? My devastating good looks always discourage people from approaching me, that and my webbed feet

19. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST? Mr. Belvidere

20. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO SEND THIS BACK TO YOU? Only if they include a donation of $50 and a dvd of Lonesome Dove

21. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING? I am not wearing any pants and my shoes are actually just paper bags wrapped in rubber bands

22. LAST THING YOU ATE? a pigeon that I hunted down at the park and stunned with a supersonic scream before devouring him feathers and all

23. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? The minions of my mind mounting a rebellion against an authoratative overlord
24. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? I would be a dazzling rainbow

25. Favorite Smell? My cologne, hobo's feet by calvin Klein
26. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? I just got off the phone with Maury Povich, he was trying to pitch me a show about a cruise ship and the different ports that it visits, i told him the idea sucked and he started crying so I hung up

27. THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE YOU ARE ATTRACTED TO? I just make sure they have all of their teef, oh and their chain, they gotta be able to shine like me naw mean?

28. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU? I don't know how this was sent to me

29. FAVORITE DRINK? Squeeze-its I love squeezing the life out of those bastards while I drink their blood

30. FAVORITE SPORT? Curling

31. EYE COLOR? I am wearing my red contacts today, because I already had my fangs in so I had to make the look complete

32. HAT SIZE? Hats do not fit on this mellon, is mellon a hat size?

33. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? I have superhuman sight, I can see you through the computer, stop picking your nose

34. FAVORITE FOOD? I do not need to eat because I am powered by the sun, I get very sad when it rains and my power is weak

35. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDING? I never watch the ends of movies because my imagination is much better than hollywood's, actually my endings always have all of the characters die from being attacked by unicorns

36. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED AT THE MOVIE THEATER? The beginnings of jazz tap and beyond

37. Kind of shirt you are wearing? black mesh so my nipples can breath, otherwise they get angry and start bothering me, pestering me for breath and spare change, GET A JOB!!
38. Summer or winter? It is always winter to me, I suffer from chronic Pneumonia and constant chills

39. HUGS OR KISSES? head locks

40. FAVORITE DESSERT? Beef Jerky

41. WHO IS MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND? The Ghostbusters, if I could only find their number

42. LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND? THe X-men they stopped taking my calls, something about a restraining order

43. WHAT BOOKS ARE YOU READING? Mental Health and You by Charles Manson

44. WHAT'S ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? A team of highly trained miniature porcupines that move my mouse by responding to my voice commands, LEFT!!! RIGHT!!! CLICK NOW!!! NOW SCROLL!!!!

45. WHAT DID YOU WATCH LAST NIGHT ON TV? the Father Dowlings Mysteries marathon

46. FAVORITE SOUNDS? Yaks mating, gerbils excercising, hobos panhandling, tires screeching, beached whales, muzak, and nails against a chalkboard

47. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES? John Denver

48. THE FURTHEST YOU'VE BEEN FROM HOME? Woodland, I got so scared I had to turn back and I haven't left home since

49. WHAT'S YOUR SPECIAL TALENT? I make paper Mache airplanes and pilot them into my neighbors house to reprogram his tivo and record diagnosis murder

50. WHEN AND WHERE WERE YOU BORN? I was born in 01 A.D. rising from the pits of lazarus to proclaim my dominance over these feeble creatures
51. TOENAILS? no

The Complacent Cubicle Monologues

Facebook Status Messages

Breath

Grandma

I Wish you Love

Creepy

Expiration Dates

If you don't care, then stand over there

Nothing But Sunshine

Trying to Find A Balance

Art stuff

OPENING RECEPTION:SATURDAY, MAY 2ND, 8-11PMEXHIBITION DATES:MAY 2ND - MAY 30TH, 2009

Texts From Last Night

New Year's Resolution

I should start writing again

Blind dates

I'll Follow the Sun

Ryuichi Ogino

You Send Me

The Great Pretender

I just want to Dance Daddy

Eulogy

So I don't really use this anymore

I seem stupid.

Plate tectonics

No, Where are yooou from?

Ouch!!!

Something more than rambling

Brain Exercise

I am NOT the father!!

Return Of The Mack

Budgie

Amy Sol

Myspace

Chicken??

Stinkytown should only have a population of one

I have returned

R.I.P. James Borwn

Batman is the Head of the Russian CIA

What an Ass

The Complacent Cubicle Monologues

Hello

Nerdy Mcnerdster

Sam Flores show pics

Zion-I- So Tall music video..somewhere in there

Hungry Eyes

Wait I Don't Get it?? U laughing, I No Understand.

Are we too sensitive?

Mickey Tong and Angry Woebots

Give Thanks Bitches

These Analogies Rule Like a Ruler...wait a minute

The 25 Funniest Analogies (Collected by High School English Teachers)

We don't attack Mer-babies

WTF???

More Penguins

Penguins doo doo with much more force than you doo

Today's Top story.....uhhhh, I have to go...

Is this Offensive??

Music Reviews: J5 and Swollen members

Art Picks

I Have a Problem

Footprints are sticky

The Rules

Differences

Public Transit

Office Clone

The Start of Nothing deux

Lost

Fin

Ladies Love Assholes

Survey Says!!!

OPENING RECEPTION:
SATURDAY, MAY 2ND, 8-11PM

EXHIBITION DATES:
MAY 2ND - MAY 30TH, 2009