Thursday, November 15, 2001

Thursday morning...i was up before the dawn.

I cut my nose shaving this morning. How does one cut their nose shaving? Only me! Now I have coagulated dried blood on the bottom of my nose, left side thank you.

Current mood music: Sean Deason's Allegory & Metaphor. Mellow Detroit ambient techno.

Ok, so i've been lax in updating this the last few days. And I'll tell you why: sheer laziness.
Not really, but busyness is the actual excuse. I mean, come on, Monday was like a holiday for me. Tuesday was "get back into work mode you dolt" type of mindset. Plus i was so overcome by emotion due to the fact that my whites were whiter than ever before that i fell down to my knees and thanked the mighty Chunnvver for helping me.
For those of you unacquainted with the great Chunnvver, let me tell you, he is quite helpful. He's similar to God, except he's not a supreme being in the same sense. He comes from another galaxy and is here on Earth to watch over lonely, misguided souls such as myself. The problem is that i'm not necessarily lonely or misguided, but I tell him that so he'll give me free gifts and stuff. For those of you with memories, I dressed up like Chunnvver in 2000 at the Burning Man Decompression party.

Songs in my head of late: Madonna's "Tell Me" (that song with Madonna dressed up as a "cowgirl" kicking up dust and's got a good hook to it, ok?); and, even worse, Ace of Base's "All That She Wants." i heard that damn song while eating the other day and it's still kicking around my skull two days later. "she leads a lonely life..." i always thought that song was catchy. even if ace of base sucks, which they did. but i'm allowed the occasional love affair with cheesy pop music. I am an American, you know. We're entitled to anything, don't you remember? I may not be a good American right now because i'm not spending thousands of dollars a day to help fight the war on terrorism, but, in the immortal words of my sworn foe, Seofon, "I'm open for monkey business." So that counts for something.

I wish I could save all my eye goo that is crusted around my sockets each morning and sell it to people. I would think it's quite valuable to at least 4 to 7.3 people.

anyway, back to pop melodies that stick in your head. I also heard that song "There She Goes" the other day, not the old school original by The La's, but the new school version sung by Sixpence None The Richer, a "christian" band...whatever that means. I'm sure they're just like Stryper, a band i'm sorry to admit I actually saw in concert back in the 1980s. Yes, they sucked ass.
"There she goes" is one of those super-dumb pop songs that won't leave your head, no matter how much you hate it. In fact, I think it's designed to stay in your head longer if you can't stand it. The La's version sucked too, I think. My good pal Mr. Byrne in Detroit would likely disagree. But what does he know. Either way, crapola.

Speaking of crapola, how about that piss-poor cover of the Red Hot Chili Peppers' "Under the Bridge" by All Saints? Wow, i caught that video on MTV a few weeks ago and was stunned by its banality. Seriously awful. If you don't know All Saints, they're a Spice Girls rip-off band from the UK. Let's hope the damn thing doesn't catch on in the US.

Since we're talking about music, I cannot believe there's already "Best of 90s" rock compilations being hawked. I saw a TV ad for it the other day and it seemed like a who's who of one-hit wonders. Featured bands included: Spin Doctors (i interviewed them one time back in the day and they were such assholes..death to spin doctors); Verve Pipe; Dead Eye Dick, Ben Folds Five, the godawful Gin Blossoms (who hold a special place in my heart as being one of the worst piece of shit bands I've ever heard) and many, many more! It kind of reminds me of the time I received the "Best of '90s hip-hop" in 1992. Maybe i should turn retro and re-release hits from all the way back in 1999! Of course, I don't have any hits to release, at least in this dimension.

I'm on a retro kick at the moment. Simple Minds' "Don�t you forget about me." I�ve always liked that song�and I don�t necessarily associate it with The Breakfast Club because I never thought that movie was all that good�though I did have a crush on Ally Sheedy for awhile. Everybody I knew wanted Molly Ringwald�and I did too. C�mon. But Ally Sheedy, she was dark and mysterious. More intriguing to me. Judd Nelson was an annoying twerp with gigantor nostrils. Oooh, he's the bad boy. Shit, by 1991, he was playing small roles in laughable flicks like New Jack City. I'm sure there are peeps that worship New Jack City, but watch it now and it's so bad, it's good. I caught it recently and couldn't believe how lame it was. And a shitload of violence too.

sidenote --- So I just took a break and went downstairs to grab some Pretzel Flipz. On the way back up, there was this group of people on the elevator yakking about shit and one woman was talking about how much taller she was compared to everyone else and that she shouldn't wear heels. Then she started blathering about how tall her whole family was and one woman asks "Did you play basketball?" So typical of people to ask such a question and i'm sure she's heard that question countless times in her life, just like most tall men. As a short person, my first thought was "Why don't people ask me if I was in the circus? Or if I'm a jockey racing horses?" Trivial, yes, but i'm all about trivial shit. Obviously.

These pretzel flipz are making me thirsty.

So the Burning Man and related folk got together for our good friend Wendella's birthday Tuesday night at Fuse. She was spinning some downtempo tuneage, which was sounding pretty tasty. It reminded me that i've got to get a set together and spin. damn, yo. One of my presents to the lovely lass was a portable zoo, comprised of a bunch of capsules that, when doused in a glass of water, grow into nifty animals. It was quite exciting. Unfortunately, ms. Tina B and I had to cut out early to make it home in time for the damn BART. We needs to get our asses outta tha East Bay. Ugh.

So the world series ended last week and i'm proud to say i saw less than an inning's worth. Baseball is stupid. Who names a team the Arizona Diamondbacks? Or the Florida Marlins? Or the Montreal Expos? I was cracking up when I heard sports announcers calling the world series winners the "D-Backs." My God, do we have to shorten and/or make an acronym out of EVERYTHING??
Sports has deteriorated so much in my mind, it�s hard to believe I once cared about them at all. It seems so unimportant and meaningless now.
Happiness derived from other people�s accomplishments. Ya fucking hoo. I crack up when people get so riled and upset if their team loses (my brother is included in that group, unfortunately). Sports take up waaaay too much time anyway. It's not worth the time commitment.

I wish I knew somebody that has the gout, just so i could tell people about it. Is it contagious? Maybe I could pass it on. Another one is leprosy. I just remember when i was a kid and my sunday school teachers telling us these horrifying stories about people hanging with Jesus having limbs drop off and related fun. I was so freaked! I remember thinking that I never wanted to get leprosy because I liked my hands and didn't want to lose them.
I have small hands, btw. But they sure are nifty. They're better than your hands, I can tell you that.

As a temporary member of the corporate world, I've been having fun learning various corporatespeak phrases. Some recent ones: "We need to hold his feet to the fire;" "Let's put a bug in her ear and see what she says;" "I'm just thinking out loud here..."; "I'm with you all the way."
The funniest part of all this is that they're said in total seriousness. It's a whole separate dialect. There's a whole other species of human kicking it in the corporate world.

There's another person I work with who bugs me because she's always finishing sentences for people when they talk to her. It's like there's an echo every time you talk to her. And most of the time, when she finishes your sentence, it's not what you were going to say. How do i stop this madness?

Most days, when i walk down Montgomery to work at about 7:30 a.m., I encounter this strange red-haired gentleman. He appears to be homeless, though I'm not sure. He's definitely dirty. Unlike many homeless around here, this guy doesn't bother people for change, and is usually standing by a trash can. Instead, he does such things as: pick at his Walkman (he's constantly staring at it or taking it apart); gives random people a big grin and the friendly nod of approval (he did this yesterday, nodding toward this business man walking in front of me. he then proceeded to follow us down the block. the business man looked a bit disconcerted. I was cracking up); or just stares at people as they walk by. One morning i saw him smoking a joint, which i found particularly amusing.
He used to have dreads but then one day a few weeks ago he was sporting a close-cropped shaved head. I've thought about talking to him, but then i remember those few times i've seen him wildly swinging his fists at people or the one day when he had this crazed, maniacal look on his face. He's probably a bit mentally unbalanced, so no use in fucking with him. I am curious though. Funny thing is I've never heard him speak, ever.
That dude reminds me of this woman I was walking behind at 16th and Mission (i.e. crackhead central) last weekend. It was cold (i.e. mid-50s, which is COLD for us wimpy Californians) and pouring rain, and miss crackhead is strolling down the street in a tiny dress and bare feet. Now, if you've ever walked in a shitty neighborhood with crackheads lying about, you know there's all sorts of nasty-ass things on the ground. You don't want to be walking in bare feet. She was meandering back and forth in front of me on the sidewalk, swinging this plastic bag around her. I had to slow down my fast-paced gait just so i wouldn't get nailed by her bag. We walk by this group of dudes smoking down and after a few steps, she starts yelling "I fucking hate black people!" At this point, I decided to stop and let her get waaaaaay ahead of me so I didn't "accidentally" get taken out by the angry dudes she was dissing. Last I saw of her, she was still wandering up 16th street.

I think i have a small obsessive problem with quarters. I love 'em. If I have a bunch (like i do now), i find myself playing with them. I purposely take them out of my pockets because I don't want to be perceived as one of those dolts who walk around with their hands in their pockets, jingling change. I'll let the bored middle-aged businessmen do that. I only noticed this obsession within the last year or so. I don't know how it happened. I need professional help. Oh lordy. -------- I just finished writing this sentence and this dude who works down the hall walks by, hands in his pockets, jingling his change. Ha.

Does anyone remember KMFDM? Does anybody care anymore? Somebody does. I wrote this thought down yesterday morning and then an hour later on me lunch, i almost run into this dude crossing the street wearing a fucking KMFDM t-shirt!! And even stranger, I haven't even thought about KMFDM in a long time, as well as see someone sporting a damn shirt. KMFDM, doing it again. A treat for the freaks. Something something. We don't care.

Does anyone remember the film "The Seduction Of Joe Tynan?" Or how about "First Monday In October," starring the long-forgotten Jill Clayburgh? Why do I remember these inconsequential things?

if you can figure out the opening line on this post (as in, what song am i referencing? hint: it's from 1979), you'll receive a healthy reward in heaven. Trust me.

I'm just going to continue on enjoying my facial TwitchFest.

Lick the pavement today! It's good for you.

Your loyal pathogen,

P.S. Yahtzee! Anybody up for a game?

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