Dang, no Dylan lyrics
Lately I have been using the lyric search on Bob Dylan's webisite for headlines for my blog entries. Today the lyric search isn't working. You can't depend on anything these days.
I went to the Southpark Mall yesterday because I needed underwear. You may wonder what the mall was like on the Biggest Shopping Day of the Year. Two words: cluster fuck.
Plenty of opportunities for people watching, I must say. I am a big supporter of the bare midriff craze created by our recent pop divas. I can only hope the next big pop star does not wear a snowsuit. Seeing how these pop chicks dress and how they influence the teeny boppers what is the next step to take? Pretty soon they will be going to the mall dressed in see through thong panties with a string of christmas tinsel across their chests. Once they go completely nude what is the next step? Body paint? After that? Maybe surgically implanted see through skin so that we can see their innards?
Saturday, November 30, 2002
Wednesday, November 27, 2002
And it ain't on no rich kid's road map
I was looking for an online topography maps and came across a site that had them. Let's have fun with topo maps now. If you click here you will see a map of Leelanau County, MI. Look at the palm of your right hand. Leelanau County is in the tip of the pinky. ANYWAY, on this topo map you will see a red cross in the middle of the map. That is one of the highest places in the county. It's a big hill with a lone maple tree at the top of it. I used to walk through the ten acres of hardwood my parent's owned, exit onto a field and walk up this hill and sit beneath the maple tree. I would face north as I sat and Lake Michigan would actually stretch across the horizon. I could sit there and watch freighters move above the trees.
I was looking for an online topography maps and came across a site that had them. Let's have fun with topo maps now. If you click here you will see a map of Leelanau County, MI. Look at the palm of your right hand. Leelanau County is in the tip of the pinky. ANYWAY, on this topo map you will see a red cross in the middle of the map. That is one of the highest places in the county. It's a big hill with a lone maple tree at the top of it. I used to walk through the ten acres of hardwood my parent's owned, exit onto a field and walk up this hill and sit beneath the maple tree. I would face north as I sat and Lake Michigan would actually stretch across the horizon. I could sit there and watch freighters move above the trees.
All of us, at times, we might work too hard
Oh....my.....god.....I just want to go home. Not only is tomorrow a holiday so I need to get home right away and hide but tomorrow will also be the first day of a four-day weekend. Oh man, my feet are in the starting blocks and I am waiting for the gun and it's not even 11 yet. Soon I will be bouncing my skull off the desk in front of me. I wish Tom was still in telref so I could throw something at him. No one here now is any fun to throw stuff at.
Scene: Tom and Ed sitting in telref contemplating suicide. Ed finishes his seventh Mountain Dew of the day and pulls his arm back in an attempt to bounce the empty 20 ounce bottle off the back wall. Why? Don't ask why, that's just the way things work in telref.
The bottle slips in Ed's hand as he releases it and instead of bouncing noisily off the back wall it hits Tom in his right temple with a thud reminiscent of the sound you hear on television when a major league baseball player takes a pitched ball to his head. The bottle thuds silently to the floor. A red disquiet floods the room.
Ed is horrified and starts to giggle.
Ed: (snorts) I'm sorry...that....that's....it's not funny. (stifles laugh) I'm sorry...(laughs)...it's not funny...(laughs)...I really am sorry...I was trying to bounce it off the wall.
Tom: (a red welt forming on his right temple, appears mad but is generally reconciled to the chaos he and Ed create in telref) You're lucky we're cool or we'd have a problem right now.
Another dumb thing I have done: When I first got the fuck out of the marines in the summer of 1990 and joined my parents here in Charlotte. I spent a month or so working with my dad at Hendrick Lexus washing and detailing cars. After four years of the marines I was looking for something that required less effort than that. Finally I found a job at a convenience store near where I lived. Hey, free smokes!
One day, bored at work (imagine that!) I decided to wrap paper and masking tape around small rock. When it got to about the size of a ball that is bigger than a baseall but smaller than a softball (I guess that would be an orange) I threw it across the store. I underestimated the mass of the object and it really soared. It crashed into one of the glass doors of the beer cooler. My projectile pierced the first pane of the double-paned door. A very similar red disquiet filled the empty store as I digested what had just happened. I tried to think of a good excuse to tell my boss when he inevitably discovered the hole in the door. My solution: "Some guy shut the door too hard and the glass shattered." I'm pretty sure no one believed me but I wasn't questioned about it which is all I really wanted.
Oh....my.....god.....I just want to go home. Not only is tomorrow a holiday so I need to get home right away and hide but tomorrow will also be the first day of a four-day weekend. Oh man, my feet are in the starting blocks and I am waiting for the gun and it's not even 11 yet. Soon I will be bouncing my skull off the desk in front of me. I wish Tom was still in telref so I could throw something at him. No one here now is any fun to throw stuff at.
Scene: Tom and Ed sitting in telref contemplating suicide. Ed finishes his seventh Mountain Dew of the day and pulls his arm back in an attempt to bounce the empty 20 ounce bottle off the back wall. Why? Don't ask why, that's just the way things work in telref.
The bottle slips in Ed's hand as he releases it and instead of bouncing noisily off the back wall it hits Tom in his right temple with a thud reminiscent of the sound you hear on television when a major league baseball player takes a pitched ball to his head. The bottle thuds silently to the floor. A red disquiet floods the room.
Ed is horrified and starts to giggle.
Ed: (snorts) I'm sorry...that....that's....it's not funny. (stifles laugh) I'm sorry...(laughs)...it's not funny...(laughs)...I really am sorry...I was trying to bounce it off the wall.
Tom: (a red welt forming on his right temple, appears mad but is generally reconciled to the chaos he and Ed create in telref) You're lucky we're cool or we'd have a problem right now.
Another dumb thing I have done: When I first got the fuck out of the marines in the summer of 1990 and joined my parents here in Charlotte. I spent a month or so working with my dad at Hendrick Lexus washing and detailing cars. After four years of the marines I was looking for something that required less effort than that. Finally I found a job at a convenience store near where I lived. Hey, free smokes!
One day, bored at work (imagine that!) I decided to wrap paper and masking tape around small rock. When it got to about the size of a ball that is bigger than a baseall but smaller than a softball (I guess that would be an orange) I threw it across the store. I underestimated the mass of the object and it really soared. It crashed into one of the glass doors of the beer cooler. My projectile pierced the first pane of the double-paned door. A very similar red disquiet filled the empty store as I digested what had just happened. I tried to think of a good excuse to tell my boss when he inevitably discovered the hole in the door. My solution: "Some guy shut the door too hard and the glass shattered." I'm pretty sure no one believed me but I wasn't questioned about it which is all I really wanted.
Tuesday, November 26, 2002
A master in the arts
I 'member growing up I thought art was something unattainable. I couldn't draw and I wasn't very good with my hands. I didn't have the knack that a lucky few have for drawing. Drawing is the one thing I have never been able to do that I would want to do. It took me a long time to realize that there is more to art than the stuff you cannot ever hope to achieve. I would look at paintings by masters and would be afraid to draw. I received bad grades in art class after busting my ass while trying to create sometihng unique and it crushed me. Now I realize that if I write my name in the snow while peeing that it's art, goddammit. That is why I love the website Exploding dog. The setup is simple. You email this guy a line and he makes a line drawing out of it using. The combination of drawings and lines is consistently interesting and sometimes genius. Occasionally it doesn't work at all but it's never boring. In some ways it reminds me very much of the Farside by Larson.
I 'member growing up I thought art was something unattainable. I couldn't draw and I wasn't very good with my hands. I didn't have the knack that a lucky few have for drawing. Drawing is the one thing I have never been able to do that I would want to do. It took me a long time to realize that there is more to art than the stuff you cannot ever hope to achieve. I would look at paintings by masters and would be afraid to draw. I received bad grades in art class after busting my ass while trying to create sometihng unique and it crushed me. Now I realize that if I write my name in the snow while peeing that it's art, goddammit. That is why I love the website Exploding dog. The setup is simple. You email this guy a line and he makes a line drawing out of it using. The combination of drawings and lines is consistently interesting and sometimes genius. Occasionally it doesn't work at all but it's never boring. In some ways it reminds me very much of the Farside by Larson.
You might have drugs at your command
Riding the bus to work in the morning always is unpredictable. I guess while driving your car to work you can have an encounter with the unexpected but that is more along the line of road rage accompanied by middle fingers and the occasional shoot out. It doesn't have the variability of a bus ride.
This morning when I got on the bus I noticed one of the regular female riders had a strange look on her face. She looked a little troubled but was wearing half a smile across her ample caramel complected maw. I sat down a few seats behind the clump of humanity near the front, broke out my new issuse of Asimov's Science Fiction. I had a CD made for me by my friend, Ingrid, playing. It was a CD I hadn't heard before by a group called Peabody from Australia. It's rawking pub rawk. Good stuff. After a few minutes of reading and jamming I notice that there is more conversation than usual on the bus. A few seats in front of me there is a woman who appears to be in her middle thirties giving the bus driver shit. Sitting next to her is a guy who looks to be in his late forties and he is also giving the driver shit. I take my headphones off and catch snatches of conversation from the woman. He speech is heavily slurred and I can only catch bits of what she is saying. It mostly consists of words like "shooperphizer," "shit," "not takin' thish shit," "bullshit," and some cryptic remark about settling this when we get downtown to the transit center.
When I noticed the guy was giving the driver shit also I got interested. I wasn't going to sit there like a panty waist if he made some move towards the driver. "Let's roll" would by my war cry. If some drugged up fuck is going to crash the bus I am going to get a few licks in before we all die.
I am assuming they were drugged up and not drunk. After a few minutes the woman got disgusted, stood up (her jeans were horrifyingly unzipped) and came back and sat across the aisle from me. She didn't reek of booze so her mind was probably full of crack. After making this observation I put my headphones back on and went back to reading. I heard some slurred speech directed toward me and then saw her pound the seat next to her to get my attention. I took off my headphones and glanced over at her. She said "I shed g'd mornin!" I said back, "mornin." That seemed to sasify her so I went back to reading and jamming. At the next stop her partner bailed. She didn't notice because she was too busy trying to zip up her pants.
Some guy got on at the next stop and she followed him to the back and annoyed him. I think he started lecturing her about her apparent substance abuse problem but that just got her more agitated. Sadly my stop came up soon after and the show for me was over. I am sure she was greeted by security and the transit center and I hope she is enjoying her warm jail-cell bed right now.
Riding the bus to work in the morning always is unpredictable. I guess while driving your car to work you can have an encounter with the unexpected but that is more along the line of road rage accompanied by middle fingers and the occasional shoot out. It doesn't have the variability of a bus ride.
This morning when I got on the bus I noticed one of the regular female riders had a strange look on her face. She looked a little troubled but was wearing half a smile across her ample caramel complected maw. I sat down a few seats behind the clump of humanity near the front, broke out my new issuse of Asimov's Science Fiction. I had a CD made for me by my friend, Ingrid, playing. It was a CD I hadn't heard before by a group called Peabody from Australia. It's rawking pub rawk. Good stuff. After a few minutes of reading and jamming I notice that there is more conversation than usual on the bus. A few seats in front of me there is a woman who appears to be in her middle thirties giving the bus driver shit. Sitting next to her is a guy who looks to be in his late forties and he is also giving the driver shit. I take my headphones off and catch snatches of conversation from the woman. He speech is heavily slurred and I can only catch bits of what she is saying. It mostly consists of words like "shooperphizer," "shit," "not takin' thish shit," "bullshit," and some cryptic remark about settling this when we get downtown to the transit center.
When I noticed the guy was giving the driver shit also I got interested. I wasn't going to sit there like a panty waist if he made some move towards the driver. "Let's roll" would by my war cry. If some drugged up fuck is going to crash the bus I am going to get a few licks in before we all die.
I am assuming they were drugged up and not drunk. After a few minutes the woman got disgusted, stood up (her jeans were horrifyingly unzipped) and came back and sat across the aisle from me. She didn't reek of booze so her mind was probably full of crack. After making this observation I put my headphones back on and went back to reading. I heard some slurred speech directed toward me and then saw her pound the seat next to her to get my attention. I took off my headphones and glanced over at her. She said "I shed g'd mornin!" I said back, "mornin." That seemed to sasify her so I went back to reading and jamming. At the next stop her partner bailed. She didn't notice because she was too busy trying to zip up her pants.
Some guy got on at the next stop and she followed him to the back and annoyed him. I think he started lecturing her about her apparent substance abuse problem but that just got her more agitated. Sadly my stop came up soon after and the show for me was over. I am sure she was greeted by security and the transit center and I hope she is enjoying her warm jail-cell bed right now.
Monday, November 25, 2002
Sometimes the silence can be like the thunder
Today while riding the bus to work I was, as usual, listening to music on my headphones. I was listening to the recent Sonic Youth album called Murray Street. The first review on the previous link sums up my feelings for the album perfectly. ANYWAY, yesterday I noticed that the battery light was flashing on my personal Cd stereo headphone system by Panasonic. I made a mental note to change out the batteries after I got home. Of course, I forgot to change out the batteries. This morning, in the dang cold, I started up the ole personal CD stereo system and there is that goddamn battery light again. I just knew they weren't going to last all the way to work. I put the headphones and waited about ten minutes for the bus, got on and, as soon as I sat down, the music dies. Now I have to spend the 20-minute ride listening to bus brakes and the two loud talkers in the back. Thank god books don't require batteries.
Today while riding the bus to work I was, as usual, listening to music on my headphones. I was listening to the recent Sonic Youth album called Murray Street. The first review on the previous link sums up my feelings for the album perfectly. ANYWAY, yesterday I noticed that the battery light was flashing on my personal Cd stereo headphone system by Panasonic. I made a mental note to change out the batteries after I got home. Of course, I forgot to change out the batteries. This morning, in the dang cold, I started up the ole personal CD stereo system and there is that goddamn battery light again. I just knew they weren't going to last all the way to work. I put the headphones and waited about ten minutes for the bus, got on and, as soon as I sat down, the music dies. Now I have to spend the 20-minute ride listening to bus brakes and the two loud talkers in the back. Thank god books don't require batteries.
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter
I was reading the book Night Watch by the criminally ignored writer Sean Stewart a few years ago and the poetry of Li Po was featured heavily in the book. Ever read any Li Po? I have found his poetry to amazing in that its tone is that of poems you can read today in any poetry journal. You can't read
Beowulf or Homer and make that connection.
You are probably thinking right now, what's the point? I was searching for a clever way to make you want to read Li Po. I failed. I am shamed and I apologize.
The reason that they killed him there, and I'm sure it ain't no lie, Was just for the fun of killin' him and to watch him slowly die.
Martin is really pissing me off right now. He is sitting next to me while I am doing chat reference here in the work room. He is very negative and if doesn't watch it, I am going to kill him. Slowly, with a dull spoon. Why is he talking to himself when there are two other people in the room? You should only talk to yourself if you are alone or if you are swering at one of your cats. He types like a girl. His watch is too big. He is writing an email to someone in Tech services. The only way to effectively communicate with those people is to go down there and stomp some ass. Major ass. Stomp ass like a group of drug dealing eight graders coming across some grade schoolers.
In case Martin has a safe fall on his head on the way to his car after work or something equally unexpected happens, I want to assert that I was just kidding about killing Martin. I have never killed another human being since Vietnam. I got all that out of my system then. After that slaughter of the pre-school daycare full of suspected VC children I really didn't have the need to really ever kill again. I did because it was easy. I just didn't have to. I could take it or leave it like a homeless guy and soap and water.
I was reading the book Night Watch by the criminally ignored writer Sean Stewart a few years ago and the poetry of Li Po was featured heavily in the book. Ever read any Li Po? I have found his poetry to amazing in that its tone is that of poems you can read today in any poetry journal. You can't read
Beowulf or Homer and make that connection.
You are probably thinking right now, what's the point? I was searching for a clever way to make you want to read Li Po. I failed. I am shamed and I apologize.
The reason that they killed him there, and I'm sure it ain't no lie, Was just for the fun of killin' him and to watch him slowly die.
Martin is really pissing me off right now. He is sitting next to me while I am doing chat reference here in the work room. He is very negative and if doesn't watch it, I am going to kill him. Slowly, with a dull spoon. Why is he talking to himself when there are two other people in the room? You should only talk to yourself if you are alone or if you are swering at one of your cats. He types like a girl. His watch is too big. He is writing an email to someone in Tech services. The only way to effectively communicate with those people is to go down there and stomp some ass. Major ass. Stomp ass like a group of drug dealing eight graders coming across some grade schoolers.
In case Martin has a safe fall on his head on the way to his car after work or something equally unexpected happens, I want to assert that I was just kidding about killing Martin. I have never killed another human being since Vietnam. I got all that out of my system then. After that slaughter of the pre-school daycare full of suspected VC children I really didn't have the need to really ever kill again. I did because it was easy. I just didn't have to. I could take it or leave it like a homeless guy and soap and water.
Sunday, November 24, 2002
She can take the dark out of the nighttime
Last night at Movie Guy's place we watched two movies. Imagine that. Only me and Bookpimp showed up because James and Dutch were out chasing skirts and Martino De Casa cancelled at the last minute for reasons unknown. I think he got sand in his vagina.
First movie: Near Dark. A vampire movie that never mentions the word vampire. A vampire movie with a hot blonde vampire that falls for and converts a cowboy who looks like the guy from Quantum Leap. It's a decent B movie romp without enough titty. Movie Guy's favorite scene, where the vampires who never claim to be vampires, kill a bunch of rednecks in a bar. The incredibly hot Jenette Goldstein who played Vasquez in Aliens plays one of the vampires. Yummy. One nice touch in the movie is that the older vampires are less concerned with hygene. They don't bother to wipe the dirt off. Reminded me of older humans who pay less attention to their personal appearance. You've seen those old guys with the bad hair cuts that don't trim their nails anymore. They stopped caring a couple of years ago and now they are waiting to die. What I did like was since the budget was obviously low they used a lot of implication as far as their vampire powers. The hot blonde vampire does mention early in the movie how loud the night was with this line: 'Listen to the night, it's deafening.'
Second movie: The Salton Sea. First half, gritty real-life drama about speed addicted yahoos in southern California. Second half, shoot em up revenge action flick. Picture 'Trainspotting' combined with 'Lethal Weapon II.' It did have a few good lines in it, my favorite was spoken by a tweeker half out his head and holding a spear gun: 'Excuse me. I don't mean to impose, but I am the Ocean.' What this movie needed was Tom Waits to walk through it at least once.
After the two movies we watched the trailer for Blazing Saddles at my request. Blazing Saddles came out in 1974 and trailers were not the art form then that they are now. Believe me. Anticlimatic at best.
Last night at Movie Guy's place we watched two movies. Imagine that. Only me and Bookpimp showed up because James and Dutch were out chasing skirts and Martino De Casa cancelled at the last minute for reasons unknown. I think he got sand in his vagina.
First movie: Near Dark. A vampire movie that never mentions the word vampire. A vampire movie with a hot blonde vampire that falls for and converts a cowboy who looks like the guy from Quantum Leap. It's a decent B movie romp without enough titty. Movie Guy's favorite scene, where the vampires who never claim to be vampires, kill a bunch of rednecks in a bar. The incredibly hot Jenette Goldstein who played Vasquez in Aliens plays one of the vampires. Yummy. One nice touch in the movie is that the older vampires are less concerned with hygene. They don't bother to wipe the dirt off. Reminded me of older humans who pay less attention to their personal appearance. You've seen those old guys with the bad hair cuts that don't trim their nails anymore. They stopped caring a couple of years ago and now they are waiting to die. What I did like was since the budget was obviously low they used a lot of implication as far as their vampire powers. The hot blonde vampire does mention early in the movie how loud the night was with this line: 'Listen to the night, it's deafening.'
Second movie: The Salton Sea. First half, gritty real-life drama about speed addicted yahoos in southern California. Second half, shoot em up revenge action flick. Picture 'Trainspotting' combined with 'Lethal Weapon II.' It did have a few good lines in it, my favorite was spoken by a tweeker half out his head and holding a spear gun: 'Excuse me. I don't mean to impose, but I am the Ocean.' What this movie needed was Tom Waits to walk through it at least once.
After the two movies we watched the trailer for Blazing Saddles at my request. Blazing Saddles came out in 1974 and trailers were not the art form then that they are now. Believe me. Anticlimatic at best.
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