Rules

I slept all right last night, and day two without caffeine is going okay. I got hot chocolate at Dunkin Donuts this morning. Ordering hot chocolate is pretty emasculating.

Tanya and I have been in the people-hating red zone lately. So, we met up for a couple drinks last night, after she put in some time at some knowledge base training her consulting agency put on after a full day’s work. After two drinks, we had to leave because the bar was annoying. Then, I broke one of our new rules.

See, we all live by rules, those we set ourselves, which are easy to break, and those set by others, also pretty easy to break. Anyway, we decided we weren’t going to buy wine during the week. We thought it would be all right to go out for drinks, but not to bring drinks home. On the home front, this quickly turned into the idea that it’s okay to buy one regular-sized bottle of wine on any night we’re staying in, just not a magnum. My thoughts were still along the lines of not getting anything to take home, if we went out for a couple on any given night. But, last night, one the way home, I bought some shitty bottle of cheap red from the ghetto convenience store near Tanya’s apartment. Tanya wanted a couple cigarettes, too, and gave me money for a pack. We’re not supposed to smoke, at all, but Tanya’s new thing is buying a pack, smoking a quarter of it, and throwing it away. This is supposed to enforce the idea of not smoking, through negative reinforcement in the form of throwing away money. It’s not working out so well, since Tanya doesn’t really mind tossing the cost of a whole pack of cigarettes on just a few of them. We are smoking a lot less, at least.

Anyway, I ended up spilling some of this gross red wine all over the table where Tanya keeps her computer, while I was looking for some YouTube clip we’ve watched about twenty times.

In other news, I had to collect my urine over a period of 24 hours and turn it in to the doctor, because there’s something wonky going on with my kidney function. I’ll keep you posted on what that’s all about.

This post was pretty pointless and not funny. So, I’ll leave you with a fun treat.

Who needs opposable thumbs?

Reflex

Suggestion: for best results, listen to the audio from the first clip while watching the second clip. Obviously, I have no internet skills.

duran duran



reflexes at work

caffeine

I’m in a bad mood. I’ve been having a lot of trouble sleeping, more than usual, so I’m experimenting with cutting down on caffeine, which means totally cutting it out for the day. It sucks. Also, as usual, people who comment on blogs, and the low standards of these people, and their general failure to ever write anything clever, funny, valid, insightful, or remotely worthwhile, is bothering me, again. I wrote a dumb long post about that general topic awhile back. To reiterate: if the content on Street Carnage or Blognigger makes or breaks your day, I feel sorry for you. I dig both those sites, especially Blognigger, but come on. Also, if you love their shit so much, why don’t you think before you mire a decent read with your inane comments? They have standards and you should, too. Fuck. I should have sworn off reading blog comments today and bought myself a delicious large coffee.

Luckily, drunk Orson always cheers me up.



Respect to these dudes, well done.

~*~ Art Sunday ~*~

Today, Skaht and I rented a ZipCar and checked out the Decordova Sculpture Park and Museum. It's located in Lincoln, MA - about 20 minutes or so from Cambridge. If we ever win MegaMillions (I'm hoping that one of those tickets we buy each week will score), I'm thinking that it would be cool to retire in that area. Very picturesque New England, with lots of estates, apple trees and not many people. Nice.

We had a nice walk around the park, checked out the museum and then got lost in the woods, too.

One of my favorite sculptures is still up: Sharks In The Trees


Skaht and the sharks:

Hearts:

Social commentary:

Artsy landscape with Skaht:

Pinecone people:

Thinkin' about art:

Face:

Skaht and the autumn leaf:

Art things:





Skaht immitates art:

Love in a sculpture park:

I'm back

Yo, dudes and chicks, sorry I haven’t hollered at you in a minute. I’ve been pretty busy. So, yeah, to recap, we went to NYC. We went to Salem, and in the post below you can see why I try to stay out of pictures, Ellen-looking like a motherfucker. I’m getting a haircut on Thursday.

I also put a decent bit of free time into some part-time work grading SAT essays. Keeping your kids out of Harvard like whoa.

Anyway, when I had a minute to look at the internets I’d usually get sucked into a YouTube hole. I’d check a blog, hit a link, then find myself watching 20 Jeopardy clips, followed by a handful of clips from Who Wants to Be a Millionaire, and not even Regis clips, but the version with that chick, who is decent and much more tolerable, on every level, than Regis. Is that show even still on?

Or, in another case, I read about how Sasha Grey is starring in a new Steve Soderbergh joint, the Girlfriend Experience. Then I found myself watching the old interview she did on the Tyra Banks talk show. Then I watched a bunch of Tyra talk show clips, mostly about racism. By the way, the Tyra/Sasha interview is kind of infuriating, and you can find many better Sasha Grey interviews online.

Sasha Grey fascinates me. She’s pretty unique. I don’t want to get into the whole thing right now. She actually makes me want to get back into freelance journalism. I’d A) like to do a sort of filler fluff softball piece about porn stars appearing in mainstream movies, and B) I’d like to do an in-depth profile/interview piece about her. I need to research both things a little more, to see how overdone those topics are. I’d definitely like to do an interview with her, though. I have about a million questions I’d like to ask her.

Back to Tyra, I love black drag queens. I thought of a great name for a black drag queen: Diversity Weekend. Any of you nubian would-be queens out there can use that if you want. Just invite me to a show.

Wrapping it all up, I think Beyonce got her new name from watching the Sasha Grey interview on the Tyra show. It’s the perfect synergy of those two dynamic personalities.

Jeopardy clips!

Skaht and Tanya Do Salem

We went to Salem, MA on Saturday for HarvestFest which was a wine/beer/meade tasting event.

This is us before drinking a lot of alcohol:



Still before alcohol, but Skaht isn't sure if it's me or not:



Skaht relives the olden days:



After alcohol, Skaht gets chummy with a pirate:



After alcohol (and at home after like 10 hours), Monkey enjoys his gift from Skaht. A wizard hat!

Autumn

It's autumn time again - my favorite season. I just came back from walking around outside. The weather is perfect, and there is a gentle breeze coming through the window. Right now, the foliage is hitting it's peak and a lot of the trees around here are bright yellow and orange.

There is something about autumn that makes everything surreal and fantasy-like. Maybe it's the association I have with Halloween, which is happening soon. I'm not sure. I've felt this way for my entire life though. I always feel happiest right now.

A year ago, when I was still getting to know Skaht, I told him about the Kodamas. They are Japanese tree spirits that are depicted in one of my favorite anime films, Princess Mononoke. In Japanase mythology, they are described a bit differently than in the movie, but I think the little white Kodamas in Princess Mononoke are so sweet.

I think that the Kodamas come out in autumn, because it's the best time of the year. I can almost count on seeing one sometimes, bouncing around on a fragile tree branch before fading away as the winter approaches.



And of course, I have to mention the forest spirit - inspiration for Spirit Cat - which I'm sure we will cover in subsequent blog posts...

AcidFace Mondays!

Every Monday, Skaht and I get together, drink wine and put glycolic acid on our faces in an effort to ward off age (it's a good exfoliant.) While our faces are coated in the acid, we do a little AcidFace dance since it can sting. Skaht's skin is getting used to it, so I think he is up to 4-5 minutes now - I'm up to 10. That's mostly because I've been using glycolic acid for a while. It usually works well.

I took a picture of AcidFace Skaht topless, wearing my fuchsia and orange polka dot headband that's made out of towel material (the headband keeps hair out of our faces.) He won't let me post it. So, here is a boring picture that illustrates what glycolic acid looks like at the molecular level:

Surprise Day!

It was Surprise Day last Friday (October 10.) Skaht and I completed our gift exchange before we left for NYC.



Skaht gave me the most expensive hand soap that I have ever had (it was $10.) I gave Skaht the jade green crystal growing kit. The cat is Monkey. He is the gift that keeps on giving (not a surprise day gift.)

In other news, this is the only picture I took in NYC:

Can I Have a Scarf With That?

As I predicted in my original post about American Apparel, I ended up in a minor obsessive phase where I bought another hoody (purple), a scarf (dark red), a tank top (black) and a thermal T (pink). This all came on the heels of my first AA purchase, which was a black hoody. I think that I can stop now, though, because I am starting to lose my dignity.

Seriously, after setting foot into the AA store in Harvard Square, I almost swore off buying anything from them ever again. It was just how I pictured it would be - only worse. I won't go into details right now. But, if I see another gold lame bodysuit, I'm going to hurl.

What really did it for me was reading up on Dov Charney - the founder of AA. This guy is a greasy, jerkface cokehead with a penchant for sexually harassing young girls. And, don't get me started on the self-proclaimed title of "innovative designer." Please...a plain t-shirt isn't really an objet d'art. This guy is just really good at making a plain t-shirt look cool using the tired old formula of selling sex to self-obsessed hipsters. Yawn. Next, please.

Don't get me wrong, I'm still going to wear all of my AA stuff because I just bought it and I do like it..however, every time I do, I will disgust myself just a little bit more. Skaht, ready the Wellbutrin.

When Monkey is a sweet boy....

Stuff

Man, blogging is so awesome. There’s so much to blog about and so little time. This might be a little random. We’ll see. Now, blog with me.

Tanya and I have some adventures coming down the line.

First of all, let me just tell you, Monkey has been acting like a total asshole lately. So, in hopes of getting him to straighten up and fly right, we’re taking him to the non-denominational “Blessing of the Animals” at the North Church on Sunday. I hope he doesn’t burst into flames. I could seriously see some Omen shit going down, just a grey tuxedo cat version.

Secondly, Tanya and I are going down to New York next weekend to see a Killing Joke show (we’re old people) and hang out with John. We’re going to shop for neck armor this weekend, since we’re taking the bus next Friday, the Mega Bus, thank the sweet Lord. Good thing John doesn’t live in Philly anymore, so we don’t have to worry about hammer attacks, but he does live in Brooklyn, which means you won’t find me fucking around with any fluorescent bulbs.

Anyway, here in Boston, I’m doing improv tonight at Improv Boston, stand-up tomorrow night at Improv Boston, and improv in Brocton Saturday night.

Tanya and I plan on setting up an eBay page whenever we get around to it, because we think we could put together enough stuff to rake in tens of dollars.

Grand Buffet’s Lord Grunge has been clocking a grip for months now, selling shit on eBay. Before the GB boys head out on the road with Girl Talk, check out his latest lot. If you like GI Joe’s you’re going to bust a nut. Do people still say that?

Don't Taze Me, Bro!

We're on a road to nowhere - Part 2

Here is another rant about people who ride the T. I encountered most of these people today.

1.) Short Stop Jim

Short Stop Jim (or Jane depending on gender) is the person you always end up behind when you are running toward the T before the doors close. He’ll be running too, but what makes him suck is that he’ll either stop or almost stop once he gets on the train. We’re not talking about running into the train for a bit and then stopping. No, Short Stop will stop once he is about three inches inside the train. This causes you to either miss out on boarding since the doors just closed, or if you make it in time, you’ll most likely end up in a face plant to the back of Short Stop’s head (or backpack if he is also a Mr. Backpack type.)

Short Stop Jim really infuriates me because people who are oblivious to their surroundings and assume that they are the only ones trying to make the train fucking suck. The world is full of them. Listen, I always go all the way into the train when boarding it, regardless of whether the doors almost slam in my face. Why? Because I know that I’m not the only person in the whole city of Boston who needs to get on the T. I guess that makes me better than most people.

Anyway, Short Stop Jim is also related to Stonewall Bill. They are usually the same person, depending on the situation. I’ll get to Stonewall below.


2.) Stonewall Bill

Stonewall Bill is almost always a guy, although there are some Betties out there occasionally. Like Short Stop Jim, this douchebag automatically assumes that he is the only person who matters and therefore won’t be accommodating when the T is crowded. Stonewall Bill will get on the train and stand in front of the door regardless of the fact that more people need to bust past him while boarding. He’ll usually do this when there is plenty of room on the train, so moving in to make way for more riders is always feasible. Stonewall tends to be either a businessman or a foreigner and assumes that he is the only one who should be able to easily vacate the train when appropriate. Purposely smacking or running into a Stonewall when exiting the train is highly recommended. Seriously, you’ll win karma points back this way. Try it.


3.) The Flisp Coalition

I came up with the term “Flisp” to describe a woman who talks with a lisp. Lisps aren’t inherently bad, but when used by this specific type of woman, it is the most annoying, irritating, grating thing in the entire free world. The T boasts a lot of flisps, especially after work around 6pm. They tend to ride the train in large groups.

A flisp is usually in her 20’s or 30’s, works in Finance, sports designer purses (with the designer logo really, really visible) and hangs out with meathead date rapist looking men. Flisps like to appear non-threatening and somewhat unintelligent so they will usually talk to each other using questions rather than stating anything that might indicate that they think for themselves. For example:

Flisp A “What do you think of that new guy in accounting?”
Flisp B “I don’t know, do you think that he is gay?”
Flisp A “I’m not sure, did you hear what he said the other day after the meeting?”
Flisp B “Yeah. Isn’t that so crazy?”

And on it goes. Usually, you’ll hear the lisp in the middle of phrases, with an emphasis on words that end in ‘th’ or start with ‘s’. Depending on proximity, it’s difficult to tune them out, even with the loudest, most feedback oriented song you have in your playlist. If a group of flisps comes your way on the train, the best advice is to either go to the opposite side of the car or get off at the next stop entirely and walk.

We're on a road to nowhere - Part 1

It’s not a big secret that people in Boston love to hate the MBTA. I personally curse it daily, mostly because it sucks in every way possible. It also turns me into a total hater because the disdain I have for the T transfers over to the people who ride it. Sometimes, this is just me being a jerk. However, most of the time, hating fellow T riders is warranted. Let me list why:


1.) Mr. Backpack

This one is pretty obvious. Mr. Backpack is usually a white college student who came to Boston from either New Hampshire, Maine or somewhere where there are a lot of places to hike. He loves hiking so much that he will wear his huge, hulking backpack and hiking gear everywhere – even in the middle of the city where places to hike do not exist. You will see Mr. Backpack a lot during rush hour when he’s on his way to class. What makes Mr. Backpack so annoying is that he’ll walk on the T with his huge backpack on his back, thereby making it impossible for anyone else to get on the already overcrowded T. If you happen to be sitting down, get ready for a blow to the face by either the big silver carabiner hanging off the front of the pack or the pair of Tevas dangling from the bottom. Even the fortunate few who aren’t in direct contact with Mr. Backpack will get a nice whiff of B.O. which comes from his insistence on using only natural deodorant (which we all know doesn’t work).


2.) The Big Ball Krewe

Everyone knows that young urban males in their late teens have the world’s largest balls. How do we know this? Well, it’s pretty obvious when you see them sitting on the T with theirs knees so far apart that no one can sit next to them. I feel bad for them, I mean, if your area juts out so much that you have to sit spread eagled all the time, that must be kind of embarrassing, right? And what to do about pants?! Maybe that’s the deal with those insanely oversized jeans most of them wear.

Or, maybe their junk is just so great that everyone should look at it. Maybe there are secrets to be told if we would only stop and listen once in a while. Tell that disabled old lady to shut up, she can’t have a seat because this dude is on to something with that glorious basket of his. Seriously, I hope that these guys get some good porn jobs out in Hollywood, because with packages that huge, there ain’t no way that they should be poor.


3.) AssCreep Sally

Okay, I know that keeping oneself at a healthy weight is difficult. In this day and age, with all the time at the office and meals on the go, some of us get pretty portly. Yeah. I understand that.

But God help me, if you are a large woman who happens to have a humungous ass, don’t attempt to plant dat azz in a space that can only accept an ass of half your size. This is called AssCreep and I have coined the term to describe this rather gross and annoying predicament. Imagine, if you will, that you are sitting on the T and even though there is plenty of room to either stand or take a seat on the opposite side, AssCreep Sally has her sights set on sitting between you and someone else. Nothing will stop that heaving ass from squeezing into a space no larger than your purse. What happens next? Well, you and your neighbor end up stuck with some of Sally’s terrycloth stretch pants caressing (or smashing into) your thighs. Sometimes, Sally will be of the one shower a week persuasion, which makes the ride even more fun. Seriously Sally, stand up and burn some calories please. Thanks.


This rant was fun. I’ll try for some more after tomorrow’s commute back into the office.