I recently made extra keys to my apartment for a couple of people who were to feed my fish and water my PLANTS while I was away at Burning Man. I have a simple lock that uses those most common of all keys, the K keys with the three holes, you know. No trouble EVER getting keys made. So I went to Brady Street Hardware, got two made, it's 50 percent more expensive than it used to be, but everything goes up right? --except pay. I kept the receipt, just because ONCE, long ago, I got a key made and it didn't work. So I got home-- and the keys didn't work. The next day I went back and told them... they asked if I wanted my money back. If they had asked if I wanted my TIME back I would have said yes! Indeed! But no, I still needed keys that worked. So they made two more—AND… they still didn't work!
Meanwhile, I bought a TAPE GUN at OfficeMax-- the brand was DUCK (as in duck/t tape, get it?)-- which I know is a huge luxury, but I tape up a box now and then, and I hate using clear mailing tape without a tape gun, okay? So I took that home, put tape on it-- it didn’t work. It just folded the tape on itself, jammed-- completely worthless. So I thought, maybe it's the tape, so I got a different kind. It still didn't work.
SO then I went to a lock shop and had THEM make the keys. More keys than I needed, but what could I do. I needed them. I asked the lock guy why BSH keys might not work. He said there is a different kind of key maker-- perhaps newer?-- that is like a cartridge or something-- and those keys sometimes don't work. I guess that's why the price went up. Anyway, I went home and these keys worked.
Then I took the tape gun back to OfficeMax and said, It doesn't work. A guy working there pointed to one he had been using, or trying to, and said, I know! I hate those things! He gave me a refund. That was easy. But I still have no tape gun.
And I still had two faulty house keys. I took them back to BSH. I figured-- third time-- three strikes and you’re out? Or third time's a charm. Which would it be? I got the keys made again, took them home, and... they worked! So now I have two extra keys, about fifty thousand dollars in credit card debt, imaginary fish, no friends, an ulcer, and several hours less to live on planet Earth.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Summerfest!
What's that smell emanating from the east side of Milwaukee? Is it the tiny little fish dying, Lake Michigan turning into one giant half empty sardine can next to a dumpster? Or is the raw sewage that gets flushed directly into the lake? Or is it a condo builders convention? It could be any of those, but no! It's the Summerfest lineup!
Here are some highlights! Steely Dan. REO Speedwagon. Blue Oyster Cult. Foreigner. Styx. Lindsey Buckingham. George Thorogood. Roger Waters. Heart. Bon Jovi. Bob Weir and RatDog. Peter Frampton. And my very favorite: "All Four Original Members of Asia!"
It is, in the form of entertainment, like one enormous nightmare of the past not going away. But it's awesome. There are a LOT of bands, that's one thing for sure. And a lot I have never heard of. And I'm sure that the ones I’ve never heard of ARE ALL kickass!
I only wish they didn't have this thing so near my job, so when I'm trying to get home I'm not getting bombarded by beer bottles and fratboy type people from the suburbs yelling at me from pickup trucks, calling me a stupid hippie, and a bike riding fag, when the bands they just went to see were people who used to indeed be hippies. I don't know why they don't have this thing in some vacant field along the interstate-- it would be easier for everyone. Instead they have to ruin what could be a perfectly nice park by the lake. Well, I guess it's less distance for all that cheap beer piss to travel. I guess the lake level typically raises several inches by the end of this event.
Here are some highlights! Steely Dan. REO Speedwagon. Blue Oyster Cult. Foreigner. Styx. Lindsey Buckingham. George Thorogood. Roger Waters. Heart. Bon Jovi. Bob Weir and RatDog. Peter Frampton. And my very favorite: "All Four Original Members of Asia!"
It is, in the form of entertainment, like one enormous nightmare of the past not going away. But it's awesome. There are a LOT of bands, that's one thing for sure. And a lot I have never heard of. And I'm sure that the ones I’ve never heard of ARE ALL kickass!
I only wish they didn't have this thing so near my job, so when I'm trying to get home I'm not getting bombarded by beer bottles and fratboy type people from the suburbs yelling at me from pickup trucks, calling me a stupid hippie, and a bike riding fag, when the bands they just went to see were people who used to indeed be hippies. I don't know why they don't have this thing in some vacant field along the interstate-- it would be easier for everyone. Instead they have to ruin what could be a perfectly nice park by the lake. Well, I guess it's less distance for all that cheap beer piss to travel. I guess the lake level typically raises several inches by the end of this event.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Bike To Work Week or some such bullshit
It's National Bike to Work Week, or some kind of nonsense thing-- like what does that really mean? In my experience, if anything, it means, if you're on a bike, people in cars give you more shit than usual.
In my short and almost totally on the bike path route to work today, here is what I encountered:
The usual four way stop confusion. Are people in Wisconsin just dumb, or are they just dumber, now, everywhere? Four way stop signs seem to really throw people off. There is one really simple thing to remember: whoever gets there first has the right of way! Whether it's a car, a bike, or a pedestrian!
Here is what happens frequently to me. A car will get to a four way stop, and seeing me riding up on my bike, either assuming I'm going to not stop at all, or just to be polite, will not go, and wait for me to go. See, the problem with this is, there is a HUGE percentage of cars who will run the stop sign, or just barely stop. If you're on a bike you HAVE to stop or get run over sooner or later. Next, of the people that stop, I can't assume that they are going to wait for me. If I aggressively proceed, there is a huge percentage of people in cars that will do one of the following things: seethe in anger until they get to a wife or kid to beat; honk angrily, yell, and roar off at full speed; follow me closely yelling obscenities and threatening to kick my ass; shoot at me from the car window. So, really, it's a complicated mess. It is really best to just follow the traffic rules as best you can. I find that the “whoever gets there first has the right of way” thing to be pretty easy to comprehend.
Next, when I got to the ramp from the bike trail up to Oakland Avenue, the top of the trail was closed off for repaving. Of all the weeks of the year to close off something like that, this is an odd one, but I won't over-think that. (Oh, another thing that made me think of is how there are a lot of bike lanes in Milwaukee now, but often they will just end abruptly. It's like, here's your bike lane, aren't we generous? Then suddenly, fuck you! No more bike lane!
The last thing, I'm almost to the office, on the street, going kind of fast to make a green light, and then this woman decides to walk across against the light, while looking at me the whole time. Looking at me in a way that says, you won't dare hit me, I'm crossing the goddamn street. You sometimes see people do that with cars, but not often because they will get killed. But people assume that bikes will stop for you, or I don't know what. It's odd. I get the impression that bikes really make people angry. I have no idea why. If they would ride a bike ever, they would see that it is CARS that make it really difficult for bikes. You have to ride defensively all the time, and even then you are always being confronted with really difficult and stupid situations. A world without cars would be SO EASY, SO PLEASANT to ride a bike in, but it is so far from that to be almost unimaginable.
In my short and almost totally on the bike path route to work today, here is what I encountered:
The usual four way stop confusion. Are people in Wisconsin just dumb, or are they just dumber, now, everywhere? Four way stop signs seem to really throw people off. There is one really simple thing to remember: whoever gets there first has the right of way! Whether it's a car, a bike, or a pedestrian!
Here is what happens frequently to me. A car will get to a four way stop, and seeing me riding up on my bike, either assuming I'm going to not stop at all, or just to be polite, will not go, and wait for me to go. See, the problem with this is, there is a HUGE percentage of cars who will run the stop sign, or just barely stop. If you're on a bike you HAVE to stop or get run over sooner or later. Next, of the people that stop, I can't assume that they are going to wait for me. If I aggressively proceed, there is a huge percentage of people in cars that will do one of the following things: seethe in anger until they get to a wife or kid to beat; honk angrily, yell, and roar off at full speed; follow me closely yelling obscenities and threatening to kick my ass; shoot at me from the car window. So, really, it's a complicated mess. It is really best to just follow the traffic rules as best you can. I find that the “whoever gets there first has the right of way” thing to be pretty easy to comprehend.
Next, when I got to the ramp from the bike trail up to Oakland Avenue, the top of the trail was closed off for repaving. Of all the weeks of the year to close off something like that, this is an odd one, but I won't over-think that. (Oh, another thing that made me think of is how there are a lot of bike lanes in Milwaukee now, but often they will just end abruptly. It's like, here's your bike lane, aren't we generous? Then suddenly, fuck you! No more bike lane!
The last thing, I'm almost to the office, on the street, going kind of fast to make a green light, and then this woman decides to walk across against the light, while looking at me the whole time. Looking at me in a way that says, you won't dare hit me, I'm crossing the goddamn street. You sometimes see people do that with cars, but not often because they will get killed. But people assume that bikes will stop for you, or I don't know what. It's odd. I get the impression that bikes really make people angry. I have no idea why. If they would ride a bike ever, they would see that it is CARS that make it really difficult for bikes. You have to ride defensively all the time, and even then you are always being confronted with really difficult and stupid situations. A world without cars would be SO EASY, SO PLEASANT to ride a bike in, but it is so far from that to be almost unimaginable.
Monday, April 30, 2007
The Answers to Your Questions
Here is where I've been hiding out:
Hello Milwaukee, Love New York
The more computer savvy among you will click on that.
Hello Milwaukee, Love New York
The more computer savvy among you will click on that.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Body of Christ
Okay, this is some crazy shit, so prepare yourself. I was at the Bally Total Fitness yesterday, and I went into the shower (group shower room with eight shower heads) and there was this total hippie guy, long hair and a beard (he looked a lot like ME, but short), standing under the running water, while EATING a sandwich and a partial loaf of bread! Now you KNOW I'm not making this up-- because it's too weird! I mean, it would be one thing if he was just eating a sandwich in the shower, but he was also holding, in the same hand, this big hunk of what looked like some kind of multi-grain, fresh, hippie bread. It was like he was eating a sandwich with a BREAD CHASER!
Now at first this made me mad, just because it's kind of disgusting, and also, since I can't eat wheat, I am just not very tolerant of it even under normal conditions. But then I thought about it for awhile, and I said to myself, this guy is a total fucking artist! He's the ULTIMATE hippie! I mean eating the classic hippie food, bread, in the shower. I had to admire him. I try and I try to be the biggest hippie I can be, but this guy just KICKED MY ASS.
You know, I should have talked to him, tried to get to know him, but no. I mean, that kind of scared me, if you want to know the truth. Because what he was doing made no sense whatsoever. And as much as I might admire that, it also scares me, and okay... so I'm a pussy!
Now at first this made me mad, just because it's kind of disgusting, and also, since I can't eat wheat, I am just not very tolerant of it even under normal conditions. But then I thought about it for awhile, and I said to myself, this guy is a total fucking artist! He's the ULTIMATE hippie! I mean eating the classic hippie food, bread, in the shower. I had to admire him. I try and I try to be the biggest hippie I can be, but this guy just KICKED MY ASS.
You know, I should have talked to him, tried to get to know him, but no. I mean, that kind of scared me, if you want to know the truth. Because what he was doing made no sense whatsoever. And as much as I might admire that, it also scares me, and okay... so I'm a pussy!
Friday, March 02, 2007
SPRI
On my return to the gym, back in the stretching room, I noticed that the ball that came rolling for me the other day had the letters "SPRI" on it. I am assuming that this is the name of the manufacturer of the ball, but what does it mean?
It made me a little sad, actually, because it made me think about "Spree" and how he's at the other gym, and I won't see him anymore.
Anyway, I have spent the rest of the day trying to think of what those letters stand for! The first thing I came up with is "Springfield, Rhode Island." Becaue doesn't every state have a Springfield? Not Rhode Island, apparently. Oh well, I'll keep trying.
It made me a little sad, actually, because it made me think about "Spree" and how he's at the other gym, and I won't see him anymore.
Anyway, I have spent the rest of the day trying to think of what those letters stand for! The first thing I came up with is "Springfield, Rhode Island." Becaue doesn't every state have a Springfield? Not Rhode Island, apparently. Oh well, I'll keep trying.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Number 6
I was at the gym this morning, in this strange room, stretching (it's strange because it used to be a racquetball or handball court, so it has a really tall ceiling and a really tiny door)-- it's the "stretching room"-- lying on my back, looking up at the ceiling, far away. All of a sudden, this huge rubber ball came rolling over by me. I guess someone was using it for exercise or stretching, and it got away from them. It really started me. For a minute I felt like I was in that TV show, "The Prisoner."
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
I'm Not Gay!
I know that I have long hair, but that's kind of a throwback to the hippie days. I know I used to hate hippies, but now I'm down with them. But the long hair doesn't mean that I'm a transvestite or transexual, or cross-dresser or anything. I know I spend a lot of time at the gym, but that doesn't mean I'm gay. Even though the Village People had that song YMCA. They had a song In The Navy, too, and less than half the guys in the Navy, I would guess, are gay. I used to wear a little eyeliner, but that was because I played in punk rock bands and and that's just what we did. I know I'm not doing much for my case here. If I was gay, I would certainly just say so, right? You can ask my ex-girlfriends if I'm gay. No, wait, maybe you better not.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
B.T.F...
...stands for... Bring the firepower? Better to forget? Bacon, tofu, and fava beans? None of the above. It's Bally Total Fitness. I joined there, not three months after quitting at the YMCA. I have my reasons, none of them good. Mostly, though, I found out they have a pool, with open swim times (all the time, the whole time they're open!) and it's cheaper than the Y, and this particular branch is only three blocks from my house.
Nothing against the Y. I quit there because I just got tired of it, and also because the best thing there was the running track, but my knees have gotten so I just can't run at all. I'm giving up running for good. That's okay, it's just another thing to say good-bye to.
So I was figuring that I would exercise by walking, which I do every day anyway, and also by doing sit-ups and push-ups every day. If I was in solitary confinement in a six foot square cell, I would do sit-ups and push-ups to stay in shape. The thing is, I'm not in such a cell. In the wide open, wild, free open prairie where I live, sit-ups and push-ups are torture, the worst things ever, almost, nearly as bad as trying to write a synopsis or sitting in a bar with techno music playing.
But because my newly found Orson Welles proportion girth, due to the Pick’n’Save now selling frozen rice crust pizza, and the Gluten-free Trading Post carrying wheat free maple donuts, and Frito pie, and Salmon on a stick at the new market down here (I'm not kidding) and El Rey tamales, well, I realized I would have to either lose weight or have to buy new pants. And buying new pants means having James Franklin's mom buy me 501 jeans in San Bernardino and mailing them here, because they don't sell 501 jeans in the state of Wisconsin.
I never thought I would go to ANY kind of health club ever, and now I've gone to two different ones in the same town! It kind of freaks me out, actually, but I make it easier on myself by thinking of the lyrics of that Tommy Roe song, "Jack and Jill." "Health clubs are overcrowded with young men..." Of course there is also a line about mini-skirts in that songs. What's next? Maybe I'll buy a car! Will it be a sports car, a hot rod, a Cadillac, or a Jeep?
Nothing against the Y. I quit there because I just got tired of it, and also because the best thing there was the running track, but my knees have gotten so I just can't run at all. I'm giving up running for good. That's okay, it's just another thing to say good-bye to.
So I was figuring that I would exercise by walking, which I do every day anyway, and also by doing sit-ups and push-ups every day. If I was in solitary confinement in a six foot square cell, I would do sit-ups and push-ups to stay in shape. The thing is, I'm not in such a cell. In the wide open, wild, free open prairie where I live, sit-ups and push-ups are torture, the worst things ever, almost, nearly as bad as trying to write a synopsis or sitting in a bar with techno music playing.
But because my newly found Orson Welles proportion girth, due to the Pick’n’Save now selling frozen rice crust pizza, and the Gluten-free Trading Post carrying wheat free maple donuts, and Frito pie, and Salmon on a stick at the new market down here (I'm not kidding) and El Rey tamales, well, I realized I would have to either lose weight or have to buy new pants. And buying new pants means having James Franklin's mom buy me 501 jeans in San Bernardino and mailing them here, because they don't sell 501 jeans in the state of Wisconsin.
I never thought I would go to ANY kind of health club ever, and now I've gone to two different ones in the same town! It kind of freaks me out, actually, but I make it easier on myself by thinking of the lyrics of that Tommy Roe song, "Jack and Jill." "Health clubs are overcrowded with young men..." Of course there is also a line about mini-skirts in that songs. What's next? Maybe I'll buy a car! Will it be a sports car, a hot rod, a Cadillac, or a Jeep?
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Super Bowl
Okay, I made a quick stop at the "Metro Mart" for half and half on my way to the office. I like that name, for a product, Half and Half, what else has a name like that? But I don't like being addicted to it. Every new years I make a resolution to only drink black coffee, but that lasts like a month, two weeks, and then it's back to cream, milk, whatever. This year I didn't even make the attempt. I don't know, maybe THAT'S progress.
So, in this particular store they have hidden the quarts of milk all the way into a tight closet size corner for some reason, like it's condoms or something, or Robitussin. Nearly every time I go there I have to wait for someone picking out their damn quart of half and half, checking all the dates, you know. On this morning, there is like NO ONE else in the grocery store, but there's a woman in this phone booth size cubby hole, picking up one after another quart, looking at it, while talking on her cell phone. Maybe checking with her husband, reading the dates to him, seeing if he approves. I stood and waited for her. Then another guy came up and didn't have the patience to wait for her so he pushed in, grabbed a quart. The woman realized that TWO people were waiting for her and scurried away like a cockroach, if you can imagine a cockroach talking on a cell phone. THEN the MAN started looking at EVERY quart, lifting up his sunglasses, while I waited. I very nearly, then, pushed his head through the glass cooler door. I don't know why, maybe it's these dreams I've been having. But I contained myself, grabbed a quart, and marched to the cash register where another woman was buying a pint of orange juice with a credit card.
So, in this particular store they have hidden the quarts of milk all the way into a tight closet size corner for some reason, like it's condoms or something, or Robitussin. Nearly every time I go there I have to wait for someone picking out their damn quart of half and half, checking all the dates, you know. On this morning, there is like NO ONE else in the grocery store, but there's a woman in this phone booth size cubby hole, picking up one after another quart, looking at it, while talking on her cell phone. Maybe checking with her husband, reading the dates to him, seeing if he approves. I stood and waited for her. Then another guy came up and didn't have the patience to wait for her so he pushed in, grabbed a quart. The woman realized that TWO people were waiting for her and scurried away like a cockroach, if you can imagine a cockroach talking on a cell phone. THEN the MAN started looking at EVERY quart, lifting up his sunglasses, while I waited. I very nearly, then, pushed his head through the glass cooler door. I don't know why, maybe it's these dreams I've been having. But I contained myself, grabbed a quart, and marched to the cash register where another woman was buying a pint of orange juice with a credit card.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Top Tens of 2006!
(in no particular order)
Music
Abe Amico “Amico Amigo Amoco”
My Astrodome “My Astrodome”
Nora Burks “Live At The Shaffer”
Shantay Hunt “Tell Me Your Thoughts”
Baronet “God Save Your Name Here”
Kimberly Steiner “No”
Collateral “Hopefully”
Neddie Chamberlain “We'll See Something Concrete”
DBMS “in the not so distant future”
Da Xavier “My Rotte”
Movies
Hope This Is It
Doll McCormick
He Was Looking Forward To A Fish Dinner As Well
My Palmcive
Fwd: Information
Sharing Is Caring
The My Metamorphosis
Bureau Off Canyon
Any Ideas?
Chateau
Books
As Waistcoat On Utterance by Penny P. Blevins
Looking Good by Anastasia Williams
Is This Is? by Owen Sanchez
Forwent by Lauralee Sanders
Timing Couldn’t Be Better To Build A Position by James Keen
Whatcha Think by Chuck Melton and Vernon Meyer
Ashlee Abel/Able by Bean K. Hadrian
Rbeverage by Jesu Burda
Of Presence by Augustus Fisher
Printmake by Howard Medeiros
My Undying Love Goes Out To…
Aubrey Allen
Malcolm Ferguson
Lawrence
Steve R. Rosado
Nita Danielseon
Chan Lawson
Dakota Perry
Micheal Owens
Lora Kelly
Elisabeth A.
Companies or Products
Larae Mills * Crafting Socks
Marquita * Pocket Cocktails
Sun Jan * Wheat-free crackers
Luis the Weaver * Wakeup and Message Service
Kendall Monroe * Garage
Ursula Cummings * Consultation
Market Movers and Shakers * Kitchenware
Madeline Arnold * Hosiery
You Free * Meditation Center
Are Do Spent * Tax Services
Television
Ratliff
After You Stop
Trenton Nights
Riotous Patience
The Joel Edwards Show
Undying Radiate
Lucille Drew His It
Porn Effects
How’s Life?
May Occur With Any Of These Medicines
Restaurants
Heath Bar
Aguilar
Slot
Hey! Fever
Gerrymander
Reyna
Interests
Boyd’s
A Bone To Pick
Thomas
Podcasts
Craftz
Season Ticket Exemplary
Bunny Allen
These Some of Ways Intuition About Purpose
Sean Barron
Give Me UR Thoughts
And Pitch!
Donaldson H. Sidney “Marrow”
Probably Distribu...
Artie Said That He's Got With Pat
Downloads
by tyranny at wert
concurrence
Seymour Janet
Tybalt K.
Denny Bauer
demeanor
The readers would find that kind of bizarre…
Brigitte Bryant
Freddie Pryor Rudolf
Tia Wiley
Ringtones
himself because he heard that...
don't go it alone
Re: Swamped, huh
Gotta sec
Know this is private
Harrison
Dear friend, as I would advise
Rutledge
Need more info
Mabel
Music
Abe Amico “Amico Amigo Amoco”
My Astrodome “My Astrodome”
Nora Burks “Live At The Shaffer”
Shantay Hunt “Tell Me Your Thoughts”
Baronet “God Save Your Name Here”
Kimberly Steiner “No”
Collateral “Hopefully”
Neddie Chamberlain “We'll See Something Concrete”
DBMS “in the not so distant future”
Da Xavier “My Rotte”
Movies
Hope This Is It
Doll McCormick
He Was Looking Forward To A Fish Dinner As Well
My Palmcive
Fwd: Information
Sharing Is Caring
The My Metamorphosis
Bureau Off Canyon
Any Ideas?
Chateau
Books
As Waistcoat On Utterance by Penny P. Blevins
Looking Good by Anastasia Williams
Is This Is? by Owen Sanchez
Forwent by Lauralee Sanders
Timing Couldn’t Be Better To Build A Position by James Keen
Whatcha Think by Chuck Melton and Vernon Meyer
Ashlee Abel/Able by Bean K. Hadrian
Rbeverage by Jesu Burda
Of Presence by Augustus Fisher
Printmake by Howard Medeiros
My Undying Love Goes Out To…
Aubrey Allen
Malcolm Ferguson
Lawrence
Steve R. Rosado
Nita Danielseon
Chan Lawson
Dakota Perry
Micheal Owens
Lora Kelly
Elisabeth A.
Companies or Products
Larae Mills * Crafting Socks
Marquita * Pocket Cocktails
Sun Jan * Wheat-free crackers
Luis the Weaver * Wakeup and Message Service
Kendall Monroe * Garage
Ursula Cummings * Consultation
Market Movers and Shakers * Kitchenware
Madeline Arnold * Hosiery
You Free * Meditation Center
Are Do Spent * Tax Services
Television
Ratliff
After You Stop
Trenton Nights
Riotous Patience
The Joel Edwards Show
Undying Radiate
Lucille Drew His It
Porn Effects
How’s Life?
May Occur With Any Of These Medicines
Restaurants
Heath Bar
Aguilar
Slot
Hey! Fever
Gerrymander
Reyna
Interests
Boyd’s
A Bone To Pick
Thomas
Podcasts
Craftz
Season Ticket Exemplary
Bunny Allen
These Some of Ways Intuition About Purpose
Sean Barron
Give Me UR Thoughts
And Pitch!
Donaldson H. Sidney “Marrow”
Probably Distribu...
Artie Said That He's Got With Pat
Downloads
by tyranny at wert
concurrence
Seymour Janet
Tybalt K.
Denny Bauer
demeanor
The readers would find that kind of bizarre…
Brigitte Bryant
Freddie Pryor Rudolf
Tia Wiley
Ringtones
himself because he heard that...
don't go it alone
Re: Swamped, huh
Gotta sec
Know this is private
Harrison
Dear friend, as I would advise
Rutledge
Need more info
Mabel
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Phenomenon
I'm going to get around to my new year's resolutions, right after my top ten lists for 2006, hopefully before February, but right now I just want to say that writing the word "incrementally" in my notebook, for some reason, made me sneeze!
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Hangover on Every Tree!
Apparently Christmas Eve is a big party holiday in Milwaukee, judging by all the vomit and broken glass on the sidewalks Monday morning. Maybe just a warm-up for New Year's Eve... oh, and I just heard that they rescheduled the Packers and Bears game for that very EVENING, as if there wasn't going to be enough beer sold! Then the Badger's play on New Year's Day. I'd say the best strategy might be to not start drinking until the Packer's game STARTS, and then stay drunk THROUGH the Badger's game the next day. The winner will face the winner of the methamphetamine brain damaged deer hunters vs. deer hunters with dementia death match in the Kohler Coliseum in February.
I went to see Apocalypto on Christmas Day, hoping to start a new tradition, and indeed, the green of the forest along with the blood decorated bodies, topped with bleeding, throbbing just removed hearts, made for a festive color scheme. I was really hoping that the extreme, graphic nature of the violence would make up for the clichéd action and story and make me physically ill, but I'm afraid that I was already desensitized by the nachos I made the mistake of buying to hold me over until post movie Paul's Omega. They consisted of a very rattley plastic bag of tortilla chips and a plastic tub of warm, runny, orange cheese substance, which ran all over my hands, my coat, my pants, the seat next to me, and the little kid in the family next to me. As long as it was hot it was edible, I guess, which is, I guess, back to the movie, why they started cooking animal flesh in the first place. Anyway, in the head to head grossness contest, the nacho cheese spread beat out the wild pig testicles… sorry!
I went to see Apocalypto on Christmas Day, hoping to start a new tradition, and indeed, the green of the forest along with the blood decorated bodies, topped with bleeding, throbbing just removed hearts, made for a festive color scheme. I was really hoping that the extreme, graphic nature of the violence would make up for the clichéd action and story and make me physically ill, but I'm afraid that I was already desensitized by the nachos I made the mistake of buying to hold me over until post movie Paul's Omega. They consisted of a very rattley plastic bag of tortilla chips and a plastic tub of warm, runny, orange cheese substance, which ran all over my hands, my coat, my pants, the seat next to me, and the little kid in the family next to me. As long as it was hot it was edible, I guess, which is, I guess, back to the movie, why they started cooking animal flesh in the first place. Anyway, in the head to head grossness contest, the nacho cheese spread beat out the wild pig testicles… sorry!
Monday, December 11, 2006
Mia Farrow
I’m sitting at the counter of The Plaza where it is entirely too hot—everywhere I go in the Midwest it’s too hot—when they aren’t cranking up the air conditioning they crank up the heat. It’s too hot everywhere. I can’t even spend a half hour in the Main library, it’s always so hot, and airless. What’s with these Midwest people and their heat? I thought we were supposed to be a bunch of farmers and Germans, up early milking the cows, all that. How did we get to be a bunch of grandmas in rest homes—85 degrees, with blankets over us. I think it’s because people no longer have any circulation because they drive everywhere. The typical person in the Midwest doesn’t walk more than one block at a time (ample parking!) and then not every day. I’m wearing long pants and a long sleeve shirt of some cotton material, but I’m sweating like a pig! That’s why I always put on a liberal amount of patchouli—it blends well with the sweat and body odor—at least as far as I'm concerned! And the ladies seem to like it.
I’m looking across the counter and I see that there is a bottle of SKOL vodka sitting on the shelf (below number “11”—the places at the counter are marked with numbers) That’s ODD—I’ve never seen anyone in here drinking vodka.
A woman came in by herself—rare for a diner!—but not rare for this place, really—she’s pretty attractive—she looks like Mia Farrow. She immediately takes off her shirt—she’s a little warm, I guess, and she’s wearing a white turtleneck underneath. (No wonder she’s hot—turtlenecks almost kill me no matter what the weather.) Maybe she’ll keep taking shirts off. I think it would be cool if she would be sitting here in her bra. But no—a guy comes in to join her—they’re meeting here. He’s talking non-stop, now. Though I did hear HER say something about how it’s almost the first day of winter. But it’s surprisingly warm out, though it looks like it should be cold—all overcast and dreary, and it got pretty cold last week. But now it’s warm again, and humid, and all gross and moist.
She didn’t say that. That was me thinking about the weather. She is quiet, now, just nodding. She is listening attentively to the guy talking non-stop She’s a good listener—nodding, interested—then suddenly she gets a call on her cell phone and has to go off and take the call—but at least she leaves the room. She comes back shortly, sits down, and the man takes a breath and gets back into his long oration. Her phone rings again, she looks at it, frowns, and excuses herself again. The man looks really annoyed this time. I wonder if people who are good listeners are good cell phone listeners—I mean, people who you know you can call and they’ll answer. I get a feeling that it’s her kids calling—they are caught up in this and that.
It occurs to me that since the advent of cell phones it’s even WORSE to be a parent than ever before. (I mean, speaking of the drawbacks of parenthood—I know there is the good side!) You can NEVER get away from your kids now. Every time they have a question or a problem, they are going to call, and you HAVE to answer! I know this sounds like I’m a kid hater—it’s not THAT so much—though I HAVE chosen NOT to have kids—that I’ll admit. But what I’m complaining about here is not the kids—it’s just their nature to be impatient and call out to the parents for an answer—it’s the cell phone part of that equation—because cell phones are ADDICTIVE. The instant connection at your fingertips is addictive—your brain starts to transform—think differently (the nature of addiction) so that when you feel the slight twinge of a yearning for connection, you call. And whenever someone else feels that way, they call you (answering is also an addiction). It’s the same a s cigarettes and sugar, candy, food at hand—and TV—and the internet, email, checking your email constantly, looking things up on Google 100 times a day. (Not as a quest for knowledge, but for satisfaction!) The day… it’s quiet, you’re lonely, you feel a strange emptiness, you eat something, or get in your car and drive, the motion making you feel temporarily better, speed—you go somewhere you can spend money—shopping makes you feel better. Buy some cigarettes, smoking makes you feel better, or smoking weed. At least smoking weed tells it like it is. I’m going to go smoke some drugs!
I mean, not me. I’m just sitting here at The Plaza writing this in my notebook. It’s a healthy activity. I’d write more here, too, but I’ve got to get going, over to NODE and check my email.
I’m looking across the counter and I see that there is a bottle of SKOL vodka sitting on the shelf (below number “11”—the places at the counter are marked with numbers) That’s ODD—I’ve never seen anyone in here drinking vodka.
A woman came in by herself—rare for a diner!—but not rare for this place, really—she’s pretty attractive—she looks like Mia Farrow. She immediately takes off her shirt—she’s a little warm, I guess, and she’s wearing a white turtleneck underneath. (No wonder she’s hot—turtlenecks almost kill me no matter what the weather.) Maybe she’ll keep taking shirts off. I think it would be cool if she would be sitting here in her bra. But no—a guy comes in to join her—they’re meeting here. He’s talking non-stop, now. Though I did hear HER say something about how it’s almost the first day of winter. But it’s surprisingly warm out, though it looks like it should be cold—all overcast and dreary, and it got pretty cold last week. But now it’s warm again, and humid, and all gross and moist.
She didn’t say that. That was me thinking about the weather. She is quiet, now, just nodding. She is listening attentively to the guy talking non-stop She’s a good listener—nodding, interested—then suddenly she gets a call on her cell phone and has to go off and take the call—but at least she leaves the room. She comes back shortly, sits down, and the man takes a breath and gets back into his long oration. Her phone rings again, she looks at it, frowns, and excuses herself again. The man looks really annoyed this time. I wonder if people who are good listeners are good cell phone listeners—I mean, people who you know you can call and they’ll answer. I get a feeling that it’s her kids calling—they are caught up in this and that.
It occurs to me that since the advent of cell phones it’s even WORSE to be a parent than ever before. (I mean, speaking of the drawbacks of parenthood—I know there is the good side!) You can NEVER get away from your kids now. Every time they have a question or a problem, they are going to call, and you HAVE to answer! I know this sounds like I’m a kid hater—it’s not THAT so much—though I HAVE chosen NOT to have kids—that I’ll admit. But what I’m complaining about here is not the kids—it’s just their nature to be impatient and call out to the parents for an answer—it’s the cell phone part of that equation—because cell phones are ADDICTIVE. The instant connection at your fingertips is addictive—your brain starts to transform—think differently (the nature of addiction) so that when you feel the slight twinge of a yearning for connection, you call. And whenever someone else feels that way, they call you (answering is also an addiction). It’s the same a s cigarettes and sugar, candy, food at hand—and TV—and the internet, email, checking your email constantly, looking things up on Google 100 times a day. (Not as a quest for knowledge, but for satisfaction!) The day… it’s quiet, you’re lonely, you feel a strange emptiness, you eat something, or get in your car and drive, the motion making you feel temporarily better, speed—you go somewhere you can spend money—shopping makes you feel better. Buy some cigarettes, smoking makes you feel better, or smoking weed. At least smoking weed tells it like it is. I’m going to go smoke some drugs!
I mean, not me. I’m just sitting here at The Plaza writing this in my notebook. It’s a healthy activity. I’d write more here, too, but I’ve got to get going, over to NODE and check my email.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
I promise this is the last thing about grocery shopping I'll ever write!
And no more complaining, either. I'm just really really annoyed, because for awhile everything was really good in my life because my favorite grocery store was also the one three blocks away from my house. But then at about the time they opened the MetroMart, everything turned to shit at this Pick'n'Save. A friend of mine was checking out something, and didn't have her discount card, and she asked the check-out person to use hers, which they would always do before, and the check-out person said they weren't allowed to do that anymore since the store got bought by Roundy's. A new rule.
I don't know anything about Roundy's as a company (actually, I haven't looked into it because I don't WANT to find out something like they're big republican supporters and homophobic racists, or anything that would compel me NOT to shop there, because I don't have a car, and it's convenient). I know they are a HUGE company that owns like 150 grocery stores, and a lot of their Roundy's generic products are in these stores, at pretty good prices. But anyway, the thing I DO know is this grocery store went downhill fast.
I all but stopped shopping there, but I like that they're open at 6am, so I have someplace to walk to early and buy something before I start working on my memoirs. Lately, I've noticed that whenever I use that discount card, the check-out person seems really annoyed. I know that the check-out job must be a crappy job at times, and I don't expect them to be friendly or anything, and I always try to be polite and helpful and smile and everything. But also, those discount card things have always kind of bugged me because it allows the store to post really cheap prices that you don't necessarily get-- you have to have the card-- so I went along with it, and I have one. But why were they now accepting them so begrudgingly?
SO on this particular day I happened to buy a bunch of things that were WAY cheaper with the sale price with the discount card. I then decided to do a little experiment-- I would go through the check-out and not offer my card and see if the check-out person asked for it, like they always used to do. My purchases came to like thirty dollars, and sure enough, she didn’t ask me if I had a discount card. Before paying, I looked at her-- it was early in the morning, sure, but there wasn’t a line. There was barely anyone in the store. I handed her the card, and she entered it, then my bill came to like twenty-five dollars--five dollars less! She looked mildly annoyed. What was going on? I'm not saying that it's some kind of scam, or that it's some policy of Roundy's to try to rip people off. I don't know. All I know is that I'm annoyed. Oh well, I should get off my ass and go a little farther to the privately owned stores anyway. At least then maybe I could get some decent produce.
I don't know anything about Roundy's as a company (actually, I haven't looked into it because I don't WANT to find out something like they're big republican supporters and homophobic racists, or anything that would compel me NOT to shop there, because I don't have a car, and it's convenient). I know they are a HUGE company that owns like 150 grocery stores, and a lot of their Roundy's generic products are in these stores, at pretty good prices. But anyway, the thing I DO know is this grocery store went downhill fast.
I all but stopped shopping there, but I like that they're open at 6am, so I have someplace to walk to early and buy something before I start working on my memoirs. Lately, I've noticed that whenever I use that discount card, the check-out person seems really annoyed. I know that the check-out job must be a crappy job at times, and I don't expect them to be friendly or anything, and I always try to be polite and helpful and smile and everything. But also, those discount card things have always kind of bugged me because it allows the store to post really cheap prices that you don't necessarily get-- you have to have the card-- so I went along with it, and I have one. But why were they now accepting them so begrudgingly?
SO on this particular day I happened to buy a bunch of things that were WAY cheaper with the sale price with the discount card. I then decided to do a little experiment-- I would go through the check-out and not offer my card and see if the check-out person asked for it, like they always used to do. My purchases came to like thirty dollars, and sure enough, she didn’t ask me if I had a discount card. Before paying, I looked at her-- it was early in the morning, sure, but there wasn’t a line. There was barely anyone in the store. I handed her the card, and she entered it, then my bill came to like twenty-five dollars--five dollars less! She looked mildly annoyed. What was going on? I'm not saying that it's some kind of scam, or that it's some policy of Roundy's to try to rip people off. I don't know. All I know is that I'm annoyed. Oh well, I should get off my ass and go a little farther to the privately owned stores anyway. At least then maybe I could get some decent produce.
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