Skaht and Tanya's Rice Pilaf

Obey Your Inner Douche

2009-07-17T16:04:00.000-04:00

Tanya and I went to see the Shepard Fairey exhibit at the ICA last night, because Thursdays are free there, and because now when someone asks me if I’ve been to the exhibit, which happens every time I wear Obey clothing, I can say, “yes.” We didn’t stay long. It was filled with hipsters, as expected, and filled with people who love to hear themselves expound on art, like all art exhibits. Plus, Tanya was tired. I kind of want to go back before it’s over August 16th, and kind of don’t maybe ever want to go back there ever again.

In stark opposition to seeing art, we started off the evening by going to the Atlantic Beer Garden. We’re sorry. We didn’t know what we were doing, and it’s close to the ICA. It’s the worst place I’ve been to in Boston in a long time. It’s worse than the awful new House of Blues and it’s worse than going to Tavern in the Square when it’s full of assholes, which is often.

The non-descript shithole looks like almost any boring franchise restaurant would look like if you stripped it of whatever gimmick they used to cover the walls and put up boring Boston sports pictures instead. The place is covered in flat screen TVs, which was a nice diversion to draw the eye away from the teeming hordes of post-work douchey blue shirts and their female cohorts. Luckily, there is a deck out on the watah and a roof deck, too (wicked awesome), so most people flock there. Those who weren’t coming from nearby work were of the typical trashy South Boston stripe, something one can never totally scour away from any part of South Boston, even a part that is newer and mostly businesses and diversions.

We sat at a table away from the crowd, but a depressing cluster of women sat at the table next to us, the kind of women who seem to take style tips from Chelsea Clinton and who are far less attractive, the type of women you hope will always be alone, but you know that won’t be the case, because there are equally awful and boring men out there.

The menu is underwhelming, as is the beer selection, which is kind of odd for a place that calls itself a beer garden. The whole place is about as interesting as its name. I mean, it’s out on the Atlantic, they sell beer, and, well there’s no garden, but two out of three ain’t bad, although everything about the experience was.

Chez Nous

2009-06-29T12:51:00.003-04:00

So, Skaht and I finally found a new apartment. I estimate that we probably saw at least 20 places before we settled on this one. It feels good to know that we don’t have to search anymore.

Apartment hunting was a soul-sucking and angst-ridden activity that left me with an even worse distaste for real estate brokers (I already damned them all to Hell the last time I had to move.) Skaht and I agree that you have to be a complete asshole to want to be one of these people. A slimy, sleazy piece of crap.

Oh yeah, and most landlords suck too.

Searching for an apartment right now is difficult. Rents have gone up and apartment quality has gone way, way down. We’re talking major fire-trap, hasn’t been maintained in about 25 years bad. And the owners of those shit holes wanted way more than we pay for an ill maintained 1 bedroom right now.

Besides the inflated rents and shitty apartments, we were inconvenienced by the larger number of renters out there who were also looking. Since mortgages are more difficult to attain lately, a lot of people who would buy are renting instead. So we had to deal with the fact that if we found a place, we would have to make a quick decision about whether we should take it. On more than a few occasions, apartments that we were inquiring about were snatched up during the day before we could even leave work to view them.

I felt like I was going to crack after a while. One thing I learned from this process is that I need to learn more about patience from Skaht, because he kept us both sane during our search. He also stopped me from making a big mistake on a one bedroom in Davis Square that would have cost us the dreaded “Finder’s Fee” (even though I “found” the place on Craigslist…but, whatever.)

Anyway, this new place is a two bedroom, so it has a lot of space. The kitchen is all renovated with stainless steel and granite countertops. The bathroom was recently remodeled as well. The owner will accept Monkey, so at least we don’t have to put him in the dumpster on moving day (although we always could change our minds.)

I’m looking forward to living in a place that is somewhat new and nice. Hopefully we can get movers who will move us this weekend. Yay.

FYBB

2009-06-11T11:52:00.000-04:00

What’s up dudes and dudettes? One day I’m going to get back on this blog furreal.

So, Tanya and I got engaged (marriage slated for 5/02/2010), we’re being forced to move into a new apartment, blah blah blah, we’re old and skipped two shows for which we’d already purchased tickets, etc.

But, really, all I wanted to say was that I’ve been checking a lot of old hip hop and also my white suburb-raised mind has been thinking about the shit I used to watch on TV, so the confluence means just about every day I have Fresh Young Balki B pop up in my mind at least once and through the magic of YouTube and poor-quality video, you can suffer with me.

Still alive. Really!

2009-02-25T12:46:00.001-05:00

Even though our lack of blog writing might lead one to believe that we are either dead or missing, fear not! Skaht and I are still here and doing well.

Monkey is doing well too, especially in the growing cat department. Only thing is, he’s already an adult so he’s not growing up any longer – just growing out, if you know what I mean (fatass.) Looks like we’ll have to reduce his food intake again which sucks because he will freak out and then I’ll feel like a horrible mommy. Oh well, it’s better to have a healthy cat making me feel guilty rather than a fat cat who will devastate me when his life is cut short by diabetes.

Let’s see, what have we been doing? We went to Florida and I got to meet Skaht’s parents and grandma. That was fun. We celebrated Surprise Day on February 10 (I’ll post Surprise Day gift photos soon) and Valentine’s Day. We did a lot of eating and hating on things, so that’s always fun too. We also came up with some new screenplay ideas involving Monkey which we still need to post one of these days. You’ll like those.

Our birthdays are coming up in March, so that should be interesting. We’ve got tickets to see The National and Morrissey and we are getting tickets for Mogwai/Twilight Sad in May and Depeche Mode in July. Besides that, there’s a slight possibility of a trip to Iceland, provided that we get our passports updated and that I still have a job in a few months (you never know.)

Sorry that this status report post is so damn boring. It’s like something I’d write for a manager. Sooner or later, one of us will return to this blog and write a post that is actually worth reading…if anyone reads this anymore. You do, right?

Here We Go!

2009-01-30T09:46:00.002-05:00

You probably know some people who feel compelled to chime in about everything. Those people suck. They suck! It’s going on right now. Someone with no love for sports, and no place in her heart for the beloved Pittsburgh Steelers, is talking about her plans for the Super Bowl, a game in which she has no interest. She’s interested in watching the commercials. Super Bowl commercials are a scam. They cost a shitload of money and corporations have built an audience of retards who actually get interested in them. Do you know why they suck? Because they’re commercials. If you like commercials, you probably suck, too.

So, anyway, the Steelers are going to slam the Cardinals. I’m not superstitious, so I have no qualms about making that call right now.

I should have gone to the Burgh, but my schedule didn’t really permit it. Tanya and I are off to Florida at the tail end of next week to go see my parents for a minute.

Go Steelers!

My inbox has been flooded with all things Steelers all week, and I don’t feel like picking and choosing from all of it, so instead I’ll leave you with this reminder that sometimes a sore loser can also be a fat and pathetic one. Props to New York women who seem to have the strength to deal with giant babies like this and tell them what time it is. I know this video has been everywhere.

Okay, not all commercials suck.

“You’re going to love my nuts.”

Life Right Now

2009-01-29T08:47:00.010-05:00

I am officially sick of winter and I have a cold. It’s one of those “gotcha!” colds. A “gotcha!” cold is a cold that seems to completely go away after you’ve had it for a couple of days – only to come back with a vengeance when you least expect it to. I started feeling the symptoms of the cold back on Sunday, but on Tuesday it was pretty much gone and I was happy while I danced around Skaht, praising the curative effects of maximum doses of vitamin C. Then, all of a sudden, Wednesday morning rolls around and I woke up feeling like Monkey had run a cat-sized truck back and forth over my face as I slept. Last night was worse and I ended up not getting any sleep due to multiple coughing fits. Thankfully, Skaht slept okay through all of that fun.

Our dance class was cancelled last night since the weather was so bad (rain/snow storm.) In a way, I was good with that since I felt like crap. I’m excited to get back to class next week though because we will be learning the Waltz. We just wrapped up the Foxtrot and Skaht and I have been practicing here and there, so we are improving. After next week’s class, we’re off to Tampa where I’ll get to meet Mr.and Mrs. Sand and be happy that we are somewhere where it’s not 20 degrees out.

Oh, my inner dork has resurfaced and I decided to download a free 10 day trial of the latest Warcraft expansion called “Wrath of the Lich King.” It’s actually pretty awesome because there is a whole new class to play with called the Death Knights. You start off as a level 55 character and you get to chill with the Lich King who gives you some pretty bad-ass quests. The game play experience is really dark and you get to raid a village and kill people while they plead for their lives (that's actually a little difficult psychologically at times.) After you get to around level 58, the special Lich King sequence ends and you go back to the original Warcraft game in Ogrimmar. I’m at that point now and I’m starting to get bored, since I’ve already completed all of those quests with my old character. However, I might keep up with it because my Death Knight is totally pimped out and she can make corpses explode.

2009-01-17T20:27:00.000-05:00

Um.

Dance

2009-01-15T15:27:00.002-05:00

Tanya and I started ballroom dance classes last night. Here’s what happened:

Fourteen per Day

2009-01-14T15:18:00.003-05:00

Tanya sent me this link to all these facts on farts.

Surprise Day!

2009-01-11T14:23:00.004-05:00

Yesterday was Surprise Day. This month, we both surprised each other with books.

I got Skaht "Inbound Volume 1" which is a book of comics from Boston writers.

Skaht got me "Oblivion" by David Foster Wallace.

Just like that Enigma song...

2009-01-06T13:33:00.009-05:00

The Saint Joseph’s Abbey in Spencer, MA allows women to stay at the end of each month for either a weekend or a week and I am contemplating a retreat there in October. You might have heard of the monks of Saint Joseph’s – they make Trappist Preserves. Trappist Preserves are the very best preserves in the whole wide world and while I was spreading some delicious Damson Plum on an English muffin this morning, I thought “hey, wouldn’t it be great to stay at a monastery some day?”

Skaht probably thinks I’m going a little crazy, wanting to stay at a religious institution and all. I am not a fan of organized religion and of course, if I were to stay at the monastery, there would be all kinds of religious things going on all around me. All the time. So, why go?

I’m kind of asking myself that right now. I’ll be honest and say that I’m not surprised by my excitement over such an endeavor. I have always had great respect for those who decide to live according to such strict principles. There is something that is so beautiful about living an ascetic life where you must live quietly, simply and in total submission to a higher power. That sense of devotion, which upholds everything, is an amazing thing.

It would be a really wonderful experience to live a similar life, just for a short while. I wouldn’t come back reformed and religious, I’m sure of that. But, I would learn a lot about devotion and self-sacrifice by watching others and taking part. From what I can tell, I’d have to be silent for the entire day and night, breaking silence only to sing at set times during the day. I’d wake up at 3:15am and go to bed at 8.

A monk is available for private talks at specific times and I would look forward to meeting with him. I’d be honest about where I stand on terms of religion, but I have a feeling that whoever I speak to wouldn’t be offended by it. I don’t feel that any of the brothers there would try to convert me. Hopefully, he would understand my desire to be there as just what it is. Even though I am opposed to much of what organized religion teaches, there is a part of me that is sometimes sad that I can’t believe in a higher power. It’s not that I won’t believe…it’s just that I can’t.

I am not looking for a way to have faith. I just want to know what it’s like to be around others who can. Maybe it’s because I tend to look down on religious people in general society and I want to be more open minded. The strange thing is that I don’t have that same prejudice when I think of ascetics; I hold them in high regard. Does that make sense to anyone? Is this way hokey for this blog?

Anyway, I made it a point in my calendar to call in April so I can ask about a spot in October. Hopefully I’ll be able to go and experience this new life for a short while and then I’ll come back to Skaht, who will undoubtedly take me out for cocktails in an effort to shake the dogma out of me. No worries, he won’t have to do that much to get me back the way I already am.

In related news, Skaht and I saw "Into Great Silence" a while ago. It's a documentary about the monks of Chartreuse. I thought that it was a great film. Here is the trailer:

Sure, I'll Post It

2008-12-31T11:19:00.007-05:00

DISCLAIMER: Alright, I actually wrote and posted this film review a few days ago. However, I removed it because I think that the writing sucks and it's too long. I'm going to repost it though because I feel bad that Skaht and I have been lazy about updating this thing and I know that we have a few readers out there. So, here's my shitty post about a movie:

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It’s pretty rare when I feel compelled to write a film review. That’s mostly due to the fact that I don’t really like movies. However, if Skaht manages to have me sit through one and I like it then hey, great. If the movie sucks then we’ll probably discuss why it sucked, be done with it and there you go.

This time it’s different because, well, here I am writing a film review. Last night, we watched The Haunting (1999 version) and it was so retarded that I was inspired to actually think about it long enough to mention it here. Seriously. This film is retarded. Retarded.

…I like saying “retarded”.

Anyway, I’m going to provide spoilers here, so if you actually want to spend $5 at Blockbuster and rent this thing, stop reading. I don’t know why you’d want to do that, but hey, I’m warning you anyway.

At first glance, I was actually psyched to see this movie. It looked like a classic haunted house type of tale which I really like. So, when Skaht and I found it, it didn’t take long to figure out that this was the film that we would use our free rental coupon on. After a dinner of Christmas left-overs and white Zinfandel champagne, we put it into my trusty PlayStation 2 (it doubles as my DVD player) and got comfy on the couch.

Shortly after the movie begins, Eleanor (a woman who has been confined inside, taking care of her dying mother for years), gets a call from an unidentified person, informing her of a sleep study that she should participate in. The details are vague, but in the paper, she learns that she would receive room, board and a $900 stipend per week. Not too shabby!

Some insignificant stuff happens next and then before you know it, Eleanor is on the road to the location of the study. After driving to the destination and consulting her map, she figures out that the huge, hulking mansion/castle in front of her is the correct place. The first image of the mansion/castle was so massive and fake looking that I began to wonder if this movie would end up being a huge CGI cheesefest. As the movie kept going, I realized that I was right.

Eleanor meets the caretaker and his dour, old wife who quickly informs her that once the night comes, no one will be around to help her should she need any assistance IN THE DARK. The wife repeats the same foreboding phrase to Theo (the next study participant), after she arrives as well. Theo is more interested in showing Eleanor her Prada boots and playing out her clichéd New York bisexual hot girl vibe, so she doesn’t really pay much attention. After this scene, an annoying super-anxious guy shows up and this completes the arrival of the study participants.

The three study participants meet the doctor in charge of the study plus his two assistants. Both assistants leave the mansion and never come back after one of them receives a facial wound from some supernatural force. How they leave is a mystery as the gates have been locked shut by the caretaker (and they remain locked after everyone tries to escape later on.) The house itself is gigantic and ornate and very fake looking – with lots of trap doors, heavy sculptures and a revolving, mirrored ballroom. The three ‘patients’ take to their rooms and have a few questionable things happen (these are supposed to be scary things, but they aren’t.) and then they go to bed. Meanwhile, we learn that the doctor isn’t concerned with studying their sleeping habits. Rather, he is interested in learning about how they cope with fear. Wow, what a jerk!

As the movie drags on, creepy things start happening to Eleanor and everyone starts questioning her sanity. Then, they blame the doctor for rigging up the house to make them all scared when they learn about the true intention of the study. Things change, however, when the good doctor himself is almost drowned by a blood spewing fountain sculpture in the greenhouse – making it undeniable to everyone that the house is insane, not Eleanor.

As far as scary imagery goes, this film has none. It’s billed as a “shriek filled funhouse”, but what you get is a lot of cheesy special effects and laughable dialogue. Did you ever see Casper the Friendly Ghost? You know the movie, not the cartoon? Well, most of the spirits in this movie look like him. I’m not joking. Fun scenes like a comical beheading by a fireplace ornament and a battle between Eleanor and a highly digitalized hawk sculpture come-to-life are additional worthy moments.

Look, I praise a good horror film that relies on minimal gore and effects to instill a sense of fear. But, this movie was so full of mediocre computer generated “grabby hands” and moving sculptures that it began to make a real mockery of itself. The best part came near the end when we find out that Eleanor’s great-grandad is actually the asshole who built the house in the first place and his spirit still imprisons the legions of children he killed in his textile mills way back in the day. So, the whole reason she ends up there (we find out) is because the house “needs her to protect the children.” Um. Ok. Seriously, Monkey could write a better screenplay then this.

Merry Christmas

2008-12-25T09:16:00.003-05:00

and Happy Holidays

Christmas Gifts

2008-12-24T15:58:00.011-05:00

Skaht and I gave each other our Christmas gifts early this year.

Skaht got us both spots in a ballroom dancing class. It starts on January 14th!! I'm sure that Skaht and I will tear it up. Look for us on the professional circuit sometime next year. Yeah, I think that we'll be that good. Seriously.

I made Skaht's present. It's a shrine to creativity (creative writing creativity.)

Here are some shots of it:

Materials:
Wood
Paint
Vintage papers and book excerpts (from the 1800's to 1940's)
Wire
Vintage glass beads
Bronze sparrows
Vintage typewriter keys
Peacock feathers
Lacquer
Dollhouse chair
Electric light
Cellophane
Love

Name that 80's band!

2008-12-19T15:55:00.005-05:00

Well, actually that's just me and my friend George at my other friend's birthday party (Sara.) Looks authentic though. It inspired Alli P. (she took the photo) to propose a photo shoot in the near future. If we do the shoot, then maybe I'll be inspired to get back to learning electric guitar - since my guitar is rotting away in storage.

So yeah. Take heed. I might be famous some day. A famous old person. Holla!

Special Guest

2008-12-18T11:09:00.005-05:00

Hey, everybody, Skaht here. We have a guest blogger today, Molly, from We Are Not Funny. She’s locking down her blog for a minute, since she’s looking for a job and her boyfriend’s mom has been reading her stuff. I think that’s kind of lameass behavior, but whatever. I woke up late today, and although I’m eager to post some stuff, it’s nice to have this as a place holder, especially since, knowing me, I probably won’t put up anything else today.

Molly’s stuff:

Hi Ya'll (thats how I say hello when I am a guest blogger) It's me Molly (mollybush.wordpress.com) Scott kindly let me guest-post-blog here because there was something I really wanted to write about. I was going to title it (cleverly) "What not to blog about when your boyfriends parents read your blog" But then I realized since this matter hits me close to home I really can't post it on my blog. It is, now, not safe for this type of literature. When I am no longer dying inside imagining my boyfriend's sweet mom reading my blog (and vomiting at my content) I will re-release it from it's hiding in the wordpress attic. I will then have a re-release party. You're invited, ya'll!!

Anyway, a couple things you shouldn't write about when your boyfriends family reads your blog. An important one is them. Yeah leave them out of it. Completely. Leave the Thanksgiving you spent with them in your mind and off the interents and don't mention making love (iIhave never referred to it as that in the blog) to their son in their home while they are home in their now guest room (pretty sure I didn't mention this, but I am too horrified to look at my blog at the moment) Don't use terms like "hate-fuck" in your blog. I know that, now. Don't link to a site for amputee porn and than say something like, "that makes sense, humping a peg leg could feel good" Yeah really don't do that. Just retyping that made me ill. Refrain from multiple usage of the word "cunt" and if they didn't know before reading your blog, don't out yourself for working at a tanning salon. Don't seem incredibly hateful and depressed. Parents like to think of you as happy, fun, adorable, innocent. Don't let your blog ruin that idea. Try not to use the term or coin the term Eye-AIDS, and if you absolutely must don't let it be applying to you. This might make them think their son was given a sexually transmitted diseases from you. GROTCH! Eeew, I just thought of another, don't write about how you never want to work. This may bring concern.

I have to actually stop this guest post, ya'll its making me incomfy. For now don't check my blog. But maybe check back soon. If I am alive inside again, ever.

Bye Ya'll

(PS – Skaht here, again. I didn’t edit Molly’s stuff. I just noticed the misspelling of “y’all.” Also, the picture is courtesy of me, a random Flickr search, and MS Paint.)

Snow

2008-12-17T09:22:00.001-05:00

This morning I walked out to the first snow I’ve seen in Boston this year. The rain washed it away by the time I got to my office. I think I need to get a pair of boots. Somehow, I made it through all of last winter in Chuck Taylors without losing any toes to frost bite, and only slipping, falling and busting my head on the ground once. I guess it’s time to grow up, and by grow up, I mean I’m glad I finally have enough money (hardly any, but more than last year) to look at boots as a good purchase for winter instead of a frivolous indulgence for bourgeois pussies (people above the poverty line).

Another year older, and I find I’m colder this year. Last year, I wore hoodies or zip-up sweaters layered over T-shirts all through winter. This year, I’ve already found I need the added warmth of a long-sleeve shirt added to the mix. I guess that’s part of the slow march towards death, and I’m starting to understand why I see old people wearing cardigans in the summer.

I miss sledding, tubing, whatever, etc.

Picture of the Day

2008-12-16T11:53:00.000-05:00

Call Me

2008-12-16T09:26:00.003-05:00

Yo, dudes, I’m up blogging at you early-like. The drain in Tanya’s shower is fucked, so after she showered, getting up an hour before me, there were still a few inches of standing water up in there when I looked, so I skipped the morning shower. I took one yesterday evening after the gym and didn’t have a physically taxing night, so it’s no big deal. Besides, I’m wearing the same shirt I wore yesterday. What can I say? I like being a slob.

I saw a link to the Lame Game on Amy’s Facebook page and checked it out. I’m feeling it. They call out Boston for being the shitty smug city it is, and I always appreciate that. They need to step up their game, though, because it didn’t take me long to work through all their entries.

Since coming back from Pittsburgh the other week, I’ve been hating on the people in this city more than usual. It’s been tough going anywhere or doing anything. Yesterday, since it was in the 60’s, I decided to try to do some shopping on my lunch break. I went to Filene’s Basement, looking for some underwear. I’m kind of particular about it. Filene’s Basement almost always drives me into the red pretty quickly. I thought 2:30 on a week day might not be so bad, although I obviously factored in people Christmas shopping. It wasn’t too crowded. There was the usual mix of brand-hungry foreigners, gross old people, girlfriends buying cheesy shit for their boyfriends, neutered men shopping with their spouses/girlfriends/sisters, and predatory Newbury Street homosexuals. Man, pervy old dudes just camp out in the underwear section. I had to bail.

If there’s one thing I can’t stand it’s gratuitous phone usage, which you’ll find plenty of in Boston. I work with someone who takes about 15 personal calls a day. Out trying to shop, I saw several people shopping while talking on the phone. Two days ago, while in a group having some normal conversation someone just had to look up some bullshit on their phone, for no reason. Even eating at Frank’s last night, people across from us had to make a couple phone calls just trying to confirm something, all, “Larry, do you remember the name of that steak place? No, okay I’ll try Carl…” Fuck you. People who talk on their phone at the gym are some of the worst. Some flisp has to be all, “Okay, I’ve got like twenty more minutes on the elliptical, then I’m just going to take a quick shower and put on my American Apparel leggings and Uggs and I’ll meet you at Starbucks.”

Tanya and I want to move. For now, I’m trying to convince her to stay in and watch movies.

RIP Miss Bettie

2008-12-13T18:09:00.004-05:00

It saddens me to hear that Bettie Page passed away last week. She was definitely an inspiration for all of us Burlesque freaks and the occasional Goth girl (i.e. the "Bettie" haircut.)

Drinkin' and Dialin'

2008-12-12T09:13:00.003-05:00

I’m happy Skaht said that it was ‘cute’ when I decided to drunk dial him multiple times last night on my way back from a friend’s birthday dinner. You see, I just wanted to give him a call and ask him to come over because I thought that it would be fun to hang out. I had no idea what time it was (past midnight on a weekday) and I was feelin’ fine from all those nice blackberry cosmos (seriously, they were good.) So, I figured – why the hell not? Skaht loves me and I’m sure that he’d want to stop by!

So, I proceeded to call and the phone just rang and rang before Skaht’s voicemail picked up. For some reason, I thought that there must have been something wrong with my phone, because if my phone had worked correctly, Skaht would have answered. I then called him again with the same results. On the third try, Skaht answered because the constant ringing of his phone must have woken him up or annoyed him to no end by this point. He didn’t sound upset or anything and I was psyched because I was all like – yay! My phone works!

Now that I had him on the phone, I started babbling and saying drunken cliché phrases like “come over here and do me” and “I miss you so much, I can’t stand it!” As I went on and on, I ended up walking right into a patio table, knocking over a plant and smashing into the back of some person’s bicycle on Mass Ave. The person wasn’t there, so that’s good.

Skaht finally told me that it was too late for him to come over and do me and that he was in bed already. I was sad but I let him go, walking into a trashcan as I hung up.

Sorry, Skaht.

I'm back

2008-12-11T09:23:00.004-05:00

I’ve been meaning to blog at your asses, but shit has been hectic with work. Plus, I was in the Burgh for a minute after Thanksgiving and spent almost an entire week unmoored from the internet, something I highly recommend. I’ll possibly blog about the trip at some point.

Tanya has a pretty good strategy for lighting my blogging fire, though. She just posts a picture of me in which I look like I have Down syndrome. Then, I feel the need to post something so the pic is not at the top of the page. I guess I deserve that shit, though, since I make fun of people who look like they have Down syndrome but actually don’t have it. You know, that certain type of waddling baby-faced fat person. Come on, I know you know what I’m talking about.

Anyway, Tanya and I love animals. The next pet we want to get is a pug and we’re going to name her Nude Panties.

As you know, Tanya and I hit up the YouTube a lot. We’ve clocked many any hour watching funny pet videos. Still, sometimes we have divergent tastes.

For example, Tanya turned me on to Hamster on a Piano, and I’ll admit I really enjoy it.

However, this one had me howling with laughter for minutes, and Tanya just wasn’t as into it.

There’s this whole weird genre of fake animal farts on YouTube. It’s pretty awesome. There are also a lot of really phony suicides and suicide jokes. The internet is great.

Thank, God, some of the shit on the internet is real. This dog rules.

Surprise Day!

2008-12-10T20:32:00.005-05:00

Today is Surprise Day.

I got Skaht delicious candied ginger:

Skaht got me 10 Mega Millions bets ($270 million payout!) (NOTE: Monkey is not freeze dried in this picture):

Together Forever

2008-12-10T15:32:00.005-05:00

I’m in an odd mood today and as a result of that, I started looking at pet taxidermists online. Now, I’m not all psyched for Monkey to kick it (in fact, I’ll probably be completely crushed when he does), it’s just that the whole idea of stuffing your pet is very strange to me. I don’t understand why someone would do this. I can acknowledge that losing a pet can feel the same as losing your best friend, but why would you want to keep a shell of that pet around after death?

In some ways, I find the whole thing a bit disrespectful of the pet. Now I realize that once Monkey buys the farm, he’s not going to give a rat’s ass whether he’s six feet under in the backyard or frozen in the ‘sleeping kitty’ taxidermy position on my couch. But, I wouldn’t feel right making him have to be with me beyond death. It would feel like I was robbing him of eternal rest or something. Not only that, it would probably make me more sad about his death than if I just buried him. Every day, I would look into his hollow, lifeless marble eyes and wish that maybe today he’d decide to jump off the couch and attack my ankle, or beg for food or...anything, really.

I’m getting sad just writing this.

Num num num

2008-12-05T21:53:00.003-05:00

I'm waiting for Skaht and I'm bored. So, I found this. It's like an alien face hugger sandwich! Yum!

VS Fashion Show

2008-12-04T12:48:00.015-05:00

Ok, so I did end up watching a little bit of the Victoria’s Secret fashion show last night after I got home from dinner with Jen. I just watched the first ten minutes though, because I couldn’t slog through much more. I do think that if I end up getting a bottle of wine tonight, I might try to watch the rest online. But, that is only because I am a masochist and I like to torture myself. It’s sexy.

Anyway, the first few minutes had the annoying backstage cut-ins with some guy in an English accent yelling out model’s names and telling them to “get ready to work” (or something like that.) It was pretty retarded and I definitely think that this guy is the same guy that they had doing the same thing during the last three shows. So, he’s yelling and the camera work is all over the place in an attempt to make the whole thing feel exciting. I don’t know, do people find that exciting? I don’t understand why this kind of media style annoys me to no end, but it does. I was about to shut it off, but then Usher was coming on stage to perform and well, I totally had to watch Usher.

Usher comes on and does one of his Usher songs that everyone seems to know. Then, the models started coming in, one after the other. People started to freak out at this point. See, I get it…they are models in skimpy clothing and well, most people applaud that sight. But, the annoying celebrity that these models are met with is kind of irritating. Each one came out and did a ‘yo homey’ gesture to either Usher or the audience, and I have to tell you that watching these total white-ass women throwing shout-outs was kind of embarrassing. Why couldn’t this just be like a normal fashion show? Oh yeah, I forgot, these are THE Victoria’s Secret ANGELS. Totally different story..totally.

Fashion wise, the outfits that I saw were pretty bad. You always get a mixture of crap and creativity at fashion shows, but the first few get-ups were seriously lacking in any imagination. Basically, each model was wearing what looked like clearance rack lingerie from Walmart (in lovely shades of gym sock gray and beige.) Seriously, this is shit that my 60 year old mom probably wears. Over that, some models either had fabric haphazardly tied around them or weird, brown leather belt things that looked like something straight out of Braveheart. At this point, I was asking myself where is the glamour? Where are all the sparkles and big wings and fantastical sex nymph costumes? The opening outfits looked more like the remnants of some art school drop-out's failed creation than anything interesting. But, yeah, I did only watch the opening scene, so maybe all that came later (I guess I will find out tonight when I settle down with some booze.)

The models were models and I won’t dispute that most of them are or are not hot in some way. They all had the standard model body, which is fine…but, am I a freak to think that lingerie actually looks hotter on women with curves? Sure, the models are tall, but some of them still look a little too pre-pubescent boy for my tastes. I think that real hourglass figures are the hottest (you know, voluptuous with a skinny waist and full hips like a pin-up.) Most of the VS models just look like one long pair of thin legs with little in the way of curves. That's not a bad thing - I guess that I just find this body type more appropriate for high fashion than for lingerie modeling. For lingerie shows, I think that Dita Von Teese makes an excellent model. However, girlfriend is like 5 feet tall, so I guess that excludes her from Vicky Secret's elite model force. Too bad.

See, I think this kind of body is the epitome of sexy:

This one ain't bad by any means, but where the hips at girl?:

After watching the show for a bit, I grew bored (as predicted in my previous post) and decided to work on Skaht’s super surprise Christmas gift. It’s not a sexy gift, but at least it’s unique.

Newsflash: Victoria's Secret Sucks

2008-12-03T16:27:00.010-05:00

I have a like-hate relationship with Victoria's Secret. I like it because I am a girlie girl and I like lingerie. However, I hate it because it is the epitome of every ridiculous mass-consumerist idea of what sexy should be. To be more concise, it's a place where everything has "sexy" written all over it because the marketing people think that most of us women need it all spelled out for us.

It's funny that the entire line of lingerie has been recently redesigned so it will look more feminine and retro, rather than the circus-pornstar fluorescent shit that they used to sell. I guess that sales started to plummet as more people left the store empty handed (it's difficult to find the sexy in lime green butt floss with sequins.) Hell, I do burlesque shows occasionally and I couldn't even justify any of that crap most of the time.

However, this rant comes on the heels of my most recent shopping excursion when I went in to use up some discount coupons on a couple of panties and shampoo. I really like their shampoo. It smells nice. But, it took damn near an hour to get through the process of buying it because I was accosted relentlessly by salespeople trying to get me to look at sweatpants (with "sexy" written on the ass), gross fragrance sets or credit card offers. I was bothered continuously by every staff member in the store. I can only imagine what a guy must feel like, should he shop there for his woman. But, then I remembered that only ya-doods without any semblance of creativity shop there for their girlfriends and I proceeded to not give a shit about that any more.

Note: if you want to impress your lady friend, blow some extra dimes on a gift from Agent Provocateur. The classiness and high sex appeal factor will score you extra in the bedroom. Trust me.

So yeah. I hate that place, but I still shop there sometimes. I still like to buy bras and panties and all that crap that women spend a fortune on. I do it, but then I hate myself later because I feel like I just bought into the gimmick. If only I had the funds to outfit myself correctly in some La Perla. Someday...someday.

Oh, and I hear that the VS fashion show is on tonight. Usually, I make a date to watch it because I love fashion shows and the VS wings and all - but, this year, I'm going to forgo it. The last two times I watched it, it was like 10 minutes of total fashion runway and 50 minutes of annoying backstage cut-ins showing models on speed preening for the camera and running around in heels. It was fucking boring. Not to mention, if I have to hear Heidi Klum and her annoying mangled English one more time, I'm going to jump off the roof. Too bad - it's a cool idea, but if I want to watch a train wreck, I'll just go over to eonline.com and look at some fun Britney Spears videos.

This is most awesome show on tv

2008-11-22T18:59:00.007-05:00

I am obsessed with this Japanese show where they take cute boys and dress them like cute girls. Yeah, yeah, I realize that every white chick you know has a crush on cute Japanese boys (me included), but you should check this out because it's brilliant. Besides, the Japanese boy in the green shirt is sooo cuuuutee! LOL! OMG!!!!

La la la la

2008-11-20T20:40:00.002-05:00

Just sittin', drinking wine with Monkey and feeling fatigued from work. My friend Forest sent me this after I sent him the Shakira/Danzig video. It's pretty nice:

Ice Cream Thank You

2008-11-20T15:04:00.004-05:00

A bunch of millionaire executives came to my office on Monday and gave my department ice cream. It was to thank us for all of the work we did on our last big project, which ended up costing something like $40 million dollars. Supposedly, it’s considered one of the most expensive projects ever in the IT industry.

Those ice cream parties tend to be half-hearted attempts at making people feel good about working 60+ hours a week. As a consultant, I’m shielded from a lot of those excessive demands, but it’s still difficult to work around people who are expected to just take it.

I’m beginning to realize that consulting wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Basically, I work in a super corporate environment, but I get treated better than the actual employees and can leave at 4. It’s sad, really, but there are a lot of business guys here who seem to like working so much that they get all excited about the shitty ice cream thank you. I don’t know about them, but I’d rather have the executive millionaires show me their gratitude by giving me a nice bonus rather than gross cafeteria ice cream with generic candy toppings.

Friday

2008-11-14T10:18:00.003-05:00

Wednesday night, I went to the Joshua Tree to meet up with the Young Team. As usual, they were running late, so I was chilling with a drink, watching that sick Celtics win (Paul Peirce insane). Anyway, since the bar is a big rectangle I had to look at a far away TV above the heads of some couple across the bar. I’ve been watching a lot of Squidbillies and this clip kept running through my head, and I was LOLing by myself like an asshole, and the dude from the couple was shooting me dirty looks because I think he thought I was laughing at his douchey beard and wondering how he pulled a decent chick, which really means he wonders how he got her and is constantly insecure. I should just wear an “I Love Tanya” shirt with her picture and our blog address, so people know I’m taken, and I’d be getting the word out about this stupid site. Anyway, thanks for the laughs Squidbillies. I’m glad I didn’t get my delicate ass kicked.

The clip in question, demonstrative of my puerile sensibilities:

Tanya and I ate at Frank’s last night, for the second time this week, getting ready for our future roles as early-bird-special-eating oldass regulars (practically already there). We bought some wine and had a pretty solid YouTube session.

We stumbled across this. I’d never seen it before, but given the number of views it’s made the rounds and gone to bed. Still, if I ain’t seen it it’s new to me, like most of the things I post here.

We’re really into these two literal music videos, too.

Brendan Donnelly’s clothing web site went live. Amazing and solid. $35 bucks ain’t bad for these gems. Too bad, I’m a poorass. Remember me for Christmas, people.

Part III: More Early November Crap

2008-11-13T10:36:00.002-05:00

Yours truly finally got another legit well-deserved day off on Veteran's Day. Monday night, Tanya and I watched that last Indiana Jones movie and went to bed early. The Indy movie was pretty mediocre, as most people know. No one wants to see oldass Indy and oldass Karen Allen and the douche from Transformers and Cate Blacnchett grabbing a paycheck. Those cheesy jungle scenes were on some Endor shit. I expected it to be worse. I mean, it still stayed true to the Indy formula by bending over the willing suspension of disbelief and often getting into some goofy antics. Plus, it threw in inter-dimensional aliens!

So, Tuesday, Tanya had to work, because Fidelity cares about money not war veterans. I guess there’s some bad shirt going on with the economy. I went home and did some laundry and watched Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead. Marisa Tomei getting naked at 44 and looking good, cut by Philip Seymour Hoffman at his fattest. The first shot is of Hoffman giving it to Tomei Snoop Dogg style. Talk about setting a tone, lolz. Throw in some whiny Ethan Hawke and Albert Finney lumbering around as a monstrous old man, add enough dark plot twists to take it from crime melodrama to gothic territory and, bam, my laundry was done and I went to the gym, then Shaw’s, then met up with Tanya for dinner at Frank’s. I swear I was more tired from running around on my day off than I ever am from a work day, excepting really hungover work days. Being old sucks.

Tanya gave you the Surprise Day lowdown. I think the sleep balm is working. I’m also avoiding the caffeine still, so maybe that’s working, too.

I’m not feeling this season of Biggest Loser. What happened to the jovial hopeful fat people? I can see mean dour fat people anywhere.

Lastly, how could I write this terribly long post and not mention that November is National Novel Writing Month, a month in which more skeletal loosely autobiographical narratives are written than any other? It’s a good thing, though. Writing novels is hard. I know because I’ve failed at it several times. Doing the exercise this month teaches people discipline about writing, which is necessary for anyone who wants to write seriously. It’s just weird, though, how I know several people who aren’t really big readers and aren’t writers but throw down for the month. It’s not completely weird, given some of the egos. Last time I tried the exercise, I ended up with a skeleton of a novel that either needs some good research and depth added to really make it a novel, or some good research and some crap cut out to make it a solid long short story or novella. I also maybe want to turn it into a screenplay at some point, since that’s the medium I mostly work in now, in my spare time, when I’m not writing really long blog posts that will go mostly unread. It’s about a guy who mugs people at movie theaters, a gay guy who takes photographic portraits of urinals, and a bored depressed trust fund girl, and how their lives come together. Hey, want to pay me to write it? Get at me, we’ll talk. That’s likely to happen. But, seriously, I need to get back at that, maybe after I finish the screenplay I’ve been working on for awhile now. So, I hope a lot of people that do the exercise like what they write and keep working on it, or at least keep writing. And, if you get successful, hook a brother up. Nah, why would you do that? I suck.

Watch the whole thing!

Part II: Election Magic

2008-11-13T10:13:00.002-05:00

Like most Massachusetts Democrats I was psyched for the election. I was registered in my old Brookline hood, so I voted out there, and saw it as a chance to get drunk early. I met a friend at the Avenue and downed several dollar drafts. Boy, had I missed those. Then, getting ready to celebrate, I stopped by Blanchard’s and picked up a bottle of South African mead. I met Tanya for a drink at Charlie’s, then we watched the results roll in at her place, sipping on mead. I managed to stay awake for McCain’s concession speech, but like my parents on New Year’s, I couldn’t stay awake for the big deal, not that it mattered since I caught that shit first thing when I got to work. I slept easily and happy, since we had a cool half-black Democrat going to the White House.

Of course, November 5th got a little annoying, with every single white person who voted acting like they got in a time machine and went back and single-handedly ended slavery. As usual, lame whites were ruining my high. Of course, voting for Obama was the most meaningful interaction many of these people ever had with a black person.

My brother turned 33 on the 6th. I’m glad he made it. On facebook, I saw some pics of him at a party. I thought it was a Halloween costume party and my brother was owning it with a spot-on Corey Haim. Turns out, it was just someone’s birthday party and he wasn’t dressed-up. Jokes!

Hells Yeah!

It's a mental block

Updates Part I: Happy Belated Halloween

2008-11-13T10:05:00.003-05:00

Hey, y’all. I haven’t rapped at you in a minute, so I thought I’d bring you up to speed. After all, the end of October and early November were pretty exciting times. Halloween came and went. Then, America rejoiced as a cool black dude meted out a humiliating beating on an elderly war veteran nearly twice his age. And, through all these heady times, I was right there with you, drinking sometimes, hanging out with Tanya a lot, hating on people, and being a tired cranky old man, just like Jesus and the two sets of footprints in the sand, except when there was only one set, it was because I was at home watching Biggest Loser instead of hanging out with your dick ass. This season of Biggest Loser sucks, by the way. It’ll probably break this up into a few posts to catch up, so the first one will cover Halloween. I know some people would say the Halloween ship has sailed and it’s time to get current, but those people don’t all run blogs nobody reads.

So, Happy Belated Halloween.

A lot of people love Halloween: pagans, creative people, chicks who like to dress like sluts and dudes who like to see chicks dressed like sluts. The slut costume gets old and unoriginal really fast. Still, it has its merits. It’s easy to identify and you basically know what you’re getting, except for the fact that you think the chick will slay in the sack and she probably ends up sucking, because she only dressed as a slut because all her friends did, because they all think that’s what Halloween is all about, no longer getting candy, but getting drunk and looking like a hooker and smashing into some overcrowded bar or club and doing the walk of shame in a cheap nurse costume.

I think I’ve done dinner theater or some other odd job the past several Halloweens, or I just stayed in not caring, too lazy to figure out a costume. Once, I went to a party, no costume, and saw a girl dressed as Carmen Sandiego, the red hat and red trench coat, etc. I liked the fact that she was bucking the slut costume trend. Plus, she was cute and obviously old enough to think of being Carmen Sandiego. I was pretty drunk and we made out at the party. We went out a week or so later and I found out she was chubby, and she lived with her parents, and worked at a bank, and I never saw her again. I probably could have made out with an albino dressed as a cat at the party. The point is: going for the girl who shows a little creativity is cool, but figure out what you’re getting into. Didn’t matter to me. I just wanted to get drunk that night and I did. Also, there’s nothing wrong with a pretty chubby girl, per se, although I’m not a fan of bankers who live with mom and dad. Still, kids, remember there are only a certain number of years where you can wake up with a cheap slutty police officer costume next to the bed, and a cheap slut in the sack. Thank God, I have Tanya and don’t have to worry about all that.

Anyway, Tanya loves Halloween, and wanted me to get out of doing a show, but I couldn’t get out of it and needed the money. The upshot was Tanya ended up doing the show. She needed money, too. She had to play the part of the French Maid, so she got to dress up anyway. I did a button-down shirt, dress pants, dress shoes, and a blazer, which is a costume for my jeans-and-T-shirt-and-sneakers ass. After the show, we spent our hard-won cash on drinks at 6B, which was totally empty except for a few anti-Halloween sad sacks. So, it was awesome. I was tired and slammed down five or six beers in an hour and then ended Halloween by dressing as the Guy Who Couldn’t Perform Sexually. Decent. There’s some trick or treat joke in there somewhere, but I’m not sussing it out right now, especially since it’s almost the middle of November.

Awesome Beyonce costume! Work it girl!

Surprise Day!

2008-11-11T20:31:00.009-05:00

Yesterday was Surprise Day!

Skaht got me a coaster featuring cats selling lemonade. The coaster is made out of a recycled bath tile. I got Skaht the Badger Sleep Balm since he has been having trouble sleeping lately.

Working for the man - Part 1

2008-11-10T09:31:00.011-05:00

I have had a ‘real’ job for about 10 years now. However, it has taken me almost 10 years to become fully used to the idea of working 9-5. In fact, I’d say that this whole desk job situation hasn’t become fully realized until the past two years or so. For some reason, I always felt like working an adult job would be a temporary phase – like going to college. I waited patiently for the time when something would happen and I’d wake up and be on to my next thing, whatever that was. Unfortunately, we all know that unless one is already wealthy, money has to be made somehow. Sadly, that’s where the 9-5 job comes in.

When I finished college and got my first corporate job, I was actually working right down the street from where I am working now in South Boston. I tend to think of that time a lot, since I can still see the building I worked at on my way to my current office in the World Trade Center. It’s a big, brown, depressing building that houses a few different businesses. The Harpoon Brewery is there in addition to some fish packing place. BTE, Inc. (or whatever it’s called now since they were bought out some time ago) is sandwiched right between. That’s where I worked.

This was a time when, like most early 20-somethings, I tended to thrive on late nights out and no sleep. How I actually pulled myself out of bed in the morning and got myself in the office is a big mystery to me now. For the first two or three months that I worked there, I didn’t have a place to live, so I couch surfed at my friend’s place, waiting for one of the extra rooms to open up. No one had a regular day job in the house, so I had to deal with people up at all hours and no privacy. I actually kept my clothes in an old boarded up fireplace since I didn’t have any closet space to call my own. People would come in while I was asleep on an air mattress on the floor and watch movies sometimes. Obviously, this wasn’t a good situation for a working professional – but I made the best of it.

Thankfully, my job at BTE was a relatively brainless administrative type job, so I didn’t really have to think that much and I could coast through the day. It was insanely boring there, and I rarely had anything to do. I pretty much sat in a back room, surfing the internet and trying to make myself look busy. I worked for the Director of Marketing. He mostly gave me reports and business proposals that I had to type up. The rough drafts would be coddled together from old proposal clippings and marked up with highlighters and red pens. They were very infantile looking, like some kindergartener had made me a story that I was supposed to decode and put into adult language. That’s pretty much all I did, maybe three times a week.

Since typing up proposals took me about an hour or so each, I was left with lots of free time on my hands. I became very adept at escaping the office unnoticed and I often took long walks around the pier. There are some strange buildings out here and lots of weird abandoned fish shacks, which I always promised myself I would photograph one day. One time, I illegally gained entry into the design center (a huge factory type building that contains interior design showcases for licensed buyers.) Walking around inside was like being part of another world. “Look at all the people who actually have cool jobs” I would say to myself as I looked at all the eccentric designers dashing about. It made me pretty depressed.

I’m not sure what my real hours were supposed to be, but I never worked more than 4 hours a day. After a two hour lunch, I’d go back to my cubicle and stare at the monitor. Maybe type up a story or email or letter or something. At around 4:30 – maybe 4 – I’d escape again, running across the parking lot and down the long street that I would have to walk in order to catch the shuttle bus from the WTC to South Station. I’d run like crazy, although most people at my office probably never noticed when I left. The walk was about 10 minutes to the shuttle and then the shuttle would take 10 minutes to South Station where I would run down to the T. The T ride took 15-20 minutes from South Station to Central Square, where I lived.

All in all, it wasn’t an awful gig, especially since I had a ton of free time and pretty much did whatever I wanted. However, I was sad a lot. I wondered how I would get used to having to work Monday through Friday, 5 days a week. I wondered how people seemed to do it so effortlessly. Do they actually like working? It wasn’t that I was particularly lazy or anything, it was just that I was expected to play a part of society that I didn’t necessarily agree with. I was in a corporate environment, with people spewing business talk all day and being around that seemed to deeply affect my soul. I always felt like I was playing some huge part in a play. Look at me, I totally agree with you about status reports and marketing and customers and products. Yeah, I do…really.

Going from being a full-time college student to a full-time professional was tough. My loss of freedom during the weekdays really got to me in a big way. I’d look at all the students in Boston and long to be a part of their world again. I toyed with the idea of graduate school and taking outlandish international jobs so I wouldn’t have to type or take dictation or pretend to care about meetings and business proposals anymore. Wouldn’t it be great if I went to art school? Or, how about the Peace Corps? I dwelled on all of these questions and inwardly, I started to fall apart. I had no idea how I would be able to handle real life. I did know, however, that I needed to work and I needed to make money. Eventually, I thought, I’d figure out how to make money and not work. I still think that will happen sometimes.

As the year dragged on, it was apparent that BTE was going to be acquired by another company. I didn’t know much about how these things progressed, so I didn’t really care. I did start to care, though when there was talk about changing the office décor and putting all the Admins in the front of the office so we could greet clients. This really set me off. If I was moved to the front of the office, that would mean no more cubicle walls, no more privacy – people would see me constantly and I wouldn’t be able to sneak out. Worse yet, I’d have to talk to people and be cheery and accountable and answer phones.

I was complacent about finding a new job up until this point, but now it was urgent that I find something else. Luckily for me, it was the ‘dot-com boom’ and jobs were plentiful. Even higher paying technology jobs were open to people who didn’t have the background (me.) So, I hit up Monster.com during work hours, applied to one Marketing Coordinator job at a software company, got called into an interview and got the job all within a week. That’s how this French/Anthropology major ended up in technology..where I still am today. I’ll write part two soon.

Rules

2008-10-30T12:40:00.002-04:00

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

2008-10-29T13:28:00.004-04:00

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

2008-10-29T11:56:00.003-04:00

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 ~~

2008-10-26T17:53:00.009-04:00

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

2008-10-24T09:19:00.004-04:00

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

2008-10-21T22:08:00.012-04:00

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

2008-10-16T20:29:00.009-04:00

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!

2008-10-15T12:59:00.007-04:00

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!

2008-10-13T20:57:00.006-04:00

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?

2008-10-09T08:19:00.009-04:00

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....

2008-10-04T13:16:00.002-04:00

Stuff

2008-10-02T17:15:00.004-04:00

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

2008-10-02T15:18:00.008-04:00

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

2008-10-01T12:04:00.011-04:00

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.

Reach for the Starz!

2008-09-30T13:20:00.001-04:00

Remember, kids, you can be anything you want, if you set your mind to it. From prom king to millionaire blogger, it’s all up to you.

moar funny pictures

low standards

2008-09-30T10:05:00.005-04:00

A few years ago I had a blog called Nothing Productive. One day, sick of it, I just deleted the whole thing. At the time, I hated it. I was reading all these minor DIY blogs that circle-jerked around the Gawker Media empire (I used to read those blogs, too). It made me hate both reading and writing. So, I quit writing my blog and quit reading blogs, and just read what I wanted to and wrote things I felt compelled to write, instead of getting up ass early to read the Sun and Page Six and try to be the first to write the obvious joke about whatever celebrity bullshit I didn’t even care about.

Now, I read blogs again, thanks to finding Brendan Donnelly’s blog, which seemed fresh, funny, and most of all uncalculated. It lead me to a lot of other great daily reads, and here I am with my bullshit, again, but in a form I find okay.

I still have a lot of problems with blogs. First of all, too many blogs all link to and write about the same shit and the whole thing gets pretty boring, although I understand and accept that it’s part of the nature of the beast.

It’s no surprise that some of the worst content anyone can read anywhere can be found in the comments section of a lot of blogs. There’s weird stupid shit like the comments section of Fail Blog, which has developed into its own sort of retarded thing with its own jargon, rituals, inside shit, etc. On a lot of other blogs that get a lot of comments, things generally skew two ways, either very negative or overly positive. I don’t think I need to explain the negative thing. As for the overly positive, it just comes down to my opinions on some things. I’m not a big fan of community, which sounds like a stupid thing to say. The point is I don’t think individuals need to brand themselves with something like a blog or web site or individual author. The idea of describing one’s self in terms of what one reads is a little too simplistic for me.

Now, let’s talk standards. Everyday on too many blog comments sections, I read things like, “this is the funniest thing I’ve ever read,” “Best post ever,” etc. Again, I won’t go into the pointless negative comments. Really, though? Have people just quit reading or are people just not that funny? Well, most people aren’t funny. Still, I think what people are really saying is, “You’ve articulately and/or wittily written something with which I personally identify,” which is quite a bit different form being the best in its class. It’s still an admirable thing.

These quality blogs find literary equivalents in Chuck Klosterman’s nonfiction and Douglas Coupland’s fiction (just two, of many, examples), decent stuff that seems to resonate more on a personal level, instead of resting on deserved critical acclaim, granted the writing is polished and professional.

This is getting way to longwinded for my mostly unread blog. I’ll end with this: if you’re going to comment on a blog, maybe you should think about whether you’re adding anything valid. And, if you’re trying to be funny, whether you’re making a valid funny point, or think you have an awesome burn directed at either the blog or some other commenter, you should think extra hard.

Since this was retarded, check out some good comedy instead. Here’s Ira Proctor doing a set at the Just for Laughs Festival. Shit’s funny. See, I can appreciate it, and don't have to say, "Holy shit, that's the funniest thing EVER." It's good, though.

Ira Proctor - New Faces 2008

Check out this Hal Sparks set. He has long hair now. He does a bit about how people freak out about his long hair. Hey, Hal, there’s nothing wrong with long hair, per se, it’s more about the fact that you look like Janeane Garofalo used to.

Hal Sparks - Masters 2008

With love for Skaht

2008-09-25T18:07:00.002-04:00

Sarah

2008-09-25T11:38:00.004-04:00

Here’s some footage of Sarah Palin in the Christian voodoo ritual that earned her the VP nod.

Then Bishop Thomas Muthee dons a Carmen Sandiego costume and uses identity modification technology to hide his Africaness and teach Americans why hybrid cars are the tools of Satan.

Remember, America, Sarah Palin is like most celebrities you think you want to bone. Listen to them enough and those feelings go away.

Magazine Filler Ain't Shit

2008-09-25T08:30:00.016-04:00

A friend of mine sent me this data visual (below) that breaks down the samples in a Girl Talk song. I don’t think he expected my venomous screed against magazine filler pieces in reply. I don’t mind fan art. Some dude takes the time to make these videos, so an infographic isn’t outlandish. I have a problem with intent. See, the graphic below comes from Wired magazine, and earlier this week the Vice Blog had a link to this piece of navel-gazing bullshit reportage, which is probably the worst thing I’ve read on the internet in a long time, which is saying a lot. Just read it and try not to get angry and see if you can keep yourself from immediately hating the author. If you’re successful in your attempt I probably don’t like you. I don’t read magazines often, mostly because the majority of their content doesn’t interest me and much of it annoys me. Filler exists for a couple reasons. Obviously, they need to fill pages so they can have more ads and, secondly, filler is used as a way of branding their magazine. Any magazine using filler does so with a particular style, and it’s usually bullshit. Now, there are innumerable things to write about for money, and people have to sit around trying to think of what they consider fresh ideas, but if in losing some bowl-cutted hipster’s solipsistic musing, we also lost the occasional vaguely interesting infographic, I’d gladly sign on to eradicate the whole mess.

About the Blog

2008-09-24T10:58:00.006-04:00

Tanya and I started this blog because we’re old and need stuff to do. We can’t really go out during the week without suffering the next day. I mean, we went to bed around 8:30 last night. We just hang out and make things up about the cat, and that’s why we started the blog.

Ideally, Skaht and Tanya’s Rice Pilaf would be a variety show on local cable access, CCTV, but Tanya and I are too old to get that kind of shit together. Secondly, we would shoot little narrative films involving the cat, but we don’t have a camera. When we get one, we’ll do that. Thirdly, we would write comics and children’s books about the cat, but so far, we haven’t done it. Lastly, we will probably at some point post some pics and give them some Photoshop or, at least, MS Paint treatment. Look forward to that.

If anyone wants to help us out with any shit, let us know.

I’m going to start posting some of our ideas, just to get them out there.

We have an idea for a black and white, old-school, laugh track-heavy sitcom where Monkey comes home from working all day, Tanya is the perfect housewife, and I’m their incorrigible adopted son. It's called Monkey the Cat!

An opening scene would go something like this:

INT. HOUSE - EVENING

MONKEY enters the house, wearing a fedora and cat trench coat, sporting a briefcase. He throws the hat at a full-size coat rack, but it falls short and lands on the floor (cue LAUGH TRACK).

TANYA, in apron and 50's style house dress, pulls a tray from the oven.

TANYA
I hope my sweet man is hungry!

Monkey walks by her, getting a full view up her dress.

MONKEY
Looks good from here. Smells great, too.

LAUGH TRACK!

Camera pans to reveal SKAHT seated at the table.

SKAHT
But, dad, you eat garbage.

TANYA
Skaht!

MONKEY
We never should've adopted him from that barn in Vermont.

Monkey shrugs. LAUGH TRACK!

ETC...

Sorry, I couldn’t figure out how to get Final Draft formatting up in this piece. Remember, I’m an old idiot, and give me a break. I think you get the gist.

We even have a theme song. The lyrics:

Monkey the Cat
Monkey the Cat
His name is Monkey, but he's a cat
He's a cat, whose name is Monkey.
Hey, who is that?
It's Monkey the Cat!

Obviously, I can't write music and only know how it sounds in my head. So, uh, enjoy this video.

Je suis malade

2008-09-24T09:22:00.005-04:00

Today is a useless day at work since I have a cold. At the turn of every season throughout the year, I get sick. It has been this way since I was little. It sucks.

I can’t wait to go home, get under the covers and go to bed. Monkey better leave me alone come 5am tomorrow morning. That jerk can get his own food.

Calm

2008-09-23T12:48:00.003-04:00

Man, I’ve been watching some ill shit. My last Netflix rentals go: Street Kings, Postal, that last Rambo flick, Redbelt, and Withnail and I. Prior to that, I was on something of a horror kick, using the term very loosely, since I watched that Lost Boys sequel.

Tanya and I have been watching a little TV here and there, too, usually stuff like Antiques Road Show, although we caught an episode of Cheaters the other week.

I got the 20th Anniversary DVD of Dead Calm. Shit has a crazy alternate ending where Billy Zane is like, “What I do with my life is my business.”

Dead Calm trailer:

Alternate ending:

Get the F up

2008-09-22T11:24:00.006-04:00

Its 5am. Anything seem a little bit ‘off’? Anything need to be done? Hello?

*tap tap*

Yo! Wake up!

Wah. This is the dance I have to perform every morning so that someone will get up and feed my starving ass. Yeah Tanya, I’m sure that it’s a real pain and everything, but I’m a growing cat and I need to be fed. Not when it’s convenient for you, okay? I need to be fed when I am HUNGRY.

I have perfected a new kind of purr that really seems to freak Tanya out (not sure about Skaht though.) It is also effective because Tanya got out of bed shortly after I unleashed my new evil power this morning.

What I do is this: I sit on Tanya or Skaht’s chest, get real close to their faces and then purr in a really low yet creepy way. Oh yeah, and I purr really loud too. That way, Tanya and Skaht will be roused from their deep stupid sleep quickly since it sounds like I am going to tear their faces off with my sharp teeth.

It totally works and I think that I might employ it at other times when I need them to stop being so self-absorbed. Like when they lock me out of the bathroom or when they make me wear the crab hat. Wah.

So Sahl-y

2008-09-22T11:20:00.003-04:00

Political comedy legend Mort Sahl spoke at Emerson. In case you missed it, his heart grew three sizes.

moar funny pictures

Work

2008-09-19T12:59:00.004-04:00

I put two days together without touching a drink or a cigarette, not so much of an accomplishment, more of a rarity, and I’ve liked it. I got up early today and came into work at 7:30, and I’ve been working, instead of looking at blogs and vaguely wondering if I’ll ever get bounced out of this job.

The economy sucks and I’m happy I have a pretty secure gig that doesn’t pay a ton of money but lets me get by. The good thing about my situation is the economy doesn’t really affect me much. I don’t own a house (admittedly that would be solid, obviously); don’t drive a car; don’t plan on having kids anytime soon, if ever (time’s running out for the old man). I don’t burn through too much cash, a little food and entertainment here and there. Essentially, it’s always business as usual for the kid. The downside is I work some extra jobs, but the upside of that is they’re okay, some are even fun, and creative. The other downside: high school kids who sell weed probably take home more per year than I do, but that’s life, and I don’t have to get nervous in front of burnouts in the upper parking lot to clock my ducats. Obviously, the economy does affect me, as it affects everyone, but I guess I don’t fret too much about money because I play the lottery a handful of times a month and that shit’s got to hit some time. To paraphrase Chris Tucker, you rob me and all you’ll get is practice (look how much whiter it is when I say it).

Improv show at All Asia in Central Square, Cambridge, tonight, 6:30-7:30 early style, $5, and the drinking is back on.

Respect

2008-09-18T12:28:00.010-04:00

Wow, Skaht's post was pretty:

Or maybe a little more:

You know the suits were like, “When in Rome, if we’re doing this video, we’re putting a goddamned model in there, a girl one!” and When in Rome balked, then slammed the glossy tabletop and were like, “Fine. We don’t like it, but fine. But, we’re not interacting with her.” Whereas, Erasure Burger Kinged the whole thing and had it their way.

A Problem with Kindness

2008-09-18T12:28:00.003-04:00

A post in which I come off as a crazy whiny asshole in need of a good dressing-down.

I really didn’t want to comment on any of the memories about David Foster Wallace currently on McSweeney’s. I think it’s a great idea and all the posts further demonstrate DFW’s great character and what the loss means to us.

However, one post irked me and now I’m going to write about it, because, if I’m going to write about bullshit most of the time, I should probably write about something that produces a strong reaction in me. I would have written to Amy Bergen, but Google didn’t give me an e-mail address right off the bat, so here.

Here’s the post in its entirety:

“I too am bewildered. Not least by the fact that the wonderful DFW told me two and a half years ago to hold on, keep going, accept the ebb and flow and mystery of life and wait till things got better. In 2005, I heard DFW speak at Kenyon (my alma mater). He gave a speech that encouraged graduates to see the extraordinary and the miraculous in the onerous workaday world they were about to enter. He urged us, especially, to have compassion.

Six months after I heard him speak, I was at my parents' house doing nothing. Not a willing, restful nothing, but a hopeless sort of nothing. I had tried and failed to get a permanent job in D.C., had returned to the Midwestern city where my family lived, had tried and failed to get a job there, had grown less and less inclined to live, had gone to Chicago, had prayed for a miracle in Millennium Park, and had come home feeling like a triple failure. In this spirit, I remembered that David Foster Wallace had spoken to my exact situation.

So I got his address off the Pomona website and wrote to him. I don't remember what I said—I whined, I wondered, I worried. I might have asked for answers. I didn't expect a response; I rarely write to people I admire; I just admire them from afar. But in this case I felt the need to reach out. This was in February.

In March I had moved into an apartment and started a temp job. Leaving the house felt like redemption, and I slowly began to build the sort of simple, happy life I wanted. Then I got a letter with a California "Very Hungry Caterpillar" stamp on it (I still have the envelope). Do you mind if I don't tell you what it said? Its contents have become far more personal and hard-hitting and apropos in the last few days. I can tell you that it showed immense humility on the part of Mr. Wallace, a lot of kindness toward a girl he didn't even know, and solid advice for the trouble he knew I'd encounter in life even though I admitted to him that I was well-off, I had many options, and I was overwhelmed with guilt for being a white middle-class college graduate and still so sad. It was some of the wisest advice I've ever received from anyone.

Now I'm in New York (I just got here) and I could use some wisdom, again. The recent news breaks my heart. I will admit freely that I don't know what to do. I want to help someone, somewhere, the way he helped me, but I can't even make it myself.

—Amy Bergen”

Now, here’s my problem with the post. Amy’s situation isn’t so uncommon among us. Many of us are sad middle-class college grads having trouble getting a handle on life, who question its meaning. At the Kenyon address Wallace spoke to her, and our situation, and she later wrote to him and received a response she calls the “wisest advice I've ever received from anyone.” Wallace, who didn’t know her, gave her advice on how to deal with the trouble she would encounter in life, advice that sounds more of the universal, rather than personal sort. Amy closes, saying she wants to help someone, somewhere. To me, the obvious help she could provide to many would be sharing the letter she received from DFW. It’s life advice that helped her, right? So, why couldn’t it help others? We will never get any more words from David Foster Wallace. So, if you have some, especially when you consider it “the wisest advice I've ever received from anyone,” why wouldn’t you want to share it? Because “Its contents have become far more personal and hard-hitting and apropos in the last few days?” How? Why are they more personal now? I can understand how special it must feel to have personal correspondence from David Foster Wallace. It would never not be yours. But, that’s the problem with kindness. We can see it in David Foster Wallace. Read all those posts. Read anything he has written. But, we have trouble learning from its example. We still all want to be special and to have things that our just ours that make us feel better than other people.

I hate this post. It’s petty. It’s me whining, “You have something and I want it!” It’s kind of crazy and childish. It too goes against the kindness I wish I could learn. However, I think the point is valid. Amy, you’re not doing anything you shouldn’t do. But, if you really want to help people the way David Foster Wallace helped you, isn’t the answer right there? I understand how personal the letter is to you, but isn’t there something nobler in setting aside that feeling? Also, sorry about addressing you via blog. If it’s any consolation, no one reads this, and you’re most likely included in that group. Sorry, we couldn’t hash this out over e-mail. Also, if it’s any consolation, I kind of feel like kicking my own ass for writing this, but it was written in the spirit of the DFW quote Zadie Smith mentioned.

Rowlf

2008-09-17T22:26:00.006-04:00

I just came back from a dinner with Sara. I love hanging out with her - we always end up watching The Muppets.

Rowlf was my favorite muppet when I was little. I was so obsessed with him. My parents found a Rowlf puppet and bought him for me for Christmas when I was 3. It was one of the best things ever. I still think so.

I should thank them for that.

White Shoelace

2008-09-17T11:20:00.016-04:00

This post is probably going to be crappy. I’m working on like 8 hours of cumulative sleep over a 2 day period. So, you’ll have to cut me some slack.

A Place to Bury Strangers was such a kick ass show. It’s too bad that my ass was already kicked from the previous night’s drunken escapades with Skaht – but isn’t that always the case anyway. I definitely got into it shortly after we arrived at the Paradise and I’m really happy that we ended up going. Of course, today sucks because of it, but it’s an Accomplished Suck kind of feeling. That’s a good thing, I guess.

Yeah, so I debuted my new American Apparel hoody. I was pretty nervous about getting one, to be honest. I mean, there are all these dumb hipster associations with AA and while I find that really retarded; I don’t want to be looked at as one of those old people who can’t seem to leave the so-called youth counter culture behind. Sad really, since there isn’t such a thing anymore – for the most part. So, why do I care?

I have to say though, I do like the AA hoody a lot. It fits great, was cheap and is really comfortable. I knew that AA would have the fit that I want, so that’s pretty much why I went with it. Most hoodies either have graphics all over them that look lame on me because I’m old. Either that, or, they are really baggy and I’m not into the “I’m going to the gym” look unless I am going to the gym. However, I don’t wear hoodies to the gym.

I figured that I would see a lot of AA garb at last nights show and I was right. I counted maybe 4 AA hoodies and 2 pairs of probable AA leggings. The problem with AA is that all of the hoodies have that really white shoestring tie thing that hangs from the hood. It’s pretty noticeable and right away everyone is all like, AMERICAN APPAREL HOODY. I’m toying with the idea of replacing the shoestring with a black one. Maybe. Especially since I might be buying another hoody soon because I like this one so much.

Maybe buying 1 AA hoody is kind of like getting your first tattoo. You can't stop after just 1. I hope that Skaht is ready for the acid washed jeans, big early 80's mom sunglasses and crocheted, oversized beret that I'll be buying evenutally since I'm such a hipster now.

Thanks

2008-09-17T11:20:00.013-04:00

Aw man. Let me tell you, both of those jerks came home last night after some “show” and proceeded to smoke cigarettes as they sat around the computer in the kitchen. Now the whole place smells like one big ashtray. Thanks Skaht and Tanya.

Seriously, aren’t they even concerned about what all that smoke must be doing to me? I mean, it’s obvious that they don’t care about their own health, but Jesus. You’d think that they would have some inkling in their booze pickled brains that I might not be cool with it. It’s bad enough that they already tried to put me in a harness and bring me outside where there are CARS. Yeah!!! Cars!! Thanks but no thanks. Being outside sucks and I want no part of it. I don’t need the added worry of dodging cars tacked onto my busy lifestyle; even if Tanya promised that nothing would happen because I’m on a leash. Whatever.

Thank God that Skaht and Tanya are actively trying to quit now. Or so they say, anyway. You never know what you are going to get with those two – life being like a box of chocolates and everything.

Wah. Time to head under the bed.

Help the Aged

2008-09-17T09:35:00.005-04:00

Last night, Tanya and I went to see A Place to Bury Strangers at the Paradise. We almost didn’t go. We were having dinner and a couple drinks and Tanya was tired from a boozy Monday night. I feel for her. She has to wake up at 6:00 and get ready to go to her serious job, while I get up between 7:30 and 8:00 to get to my job, and I can handle 5-7 drinks better than she can. Anyway, she started balking at going, even after we got on the train. I’m sure if we didn’t already have tickets, we would have begged off and gone back to her place to watch Noah’s Arc, which, I guess, is the black Queer as Folk. As psyched as I am to watch that, I missed the last two times A Place to Bury Stranger came to town, and since we already had tickets, I was determined to get there. Ah, the perils of getting old, when it feels like an accomplishment to get to a show.

We watched the opener, Neptune, and Tanya cheered up a little. The band was pretty tight, a percussion-driven noise outfit. One dude played a guitar that looked like it was made out of a suitcase, and the band looked like they made several of their percussion instruments. They toed the line right and kept it from going Stomp! meets the Duran Duran “Wild Boys” video. I wasn’t feeling the Sian Alice group, just not really in the mood. A Place to Bury Strangers, as expected, delivered their huge sound, and we left happy. The whole thing was over a little after 11:30, which makes us old folks smile.

Tanya broke out her new American Apparel black hoody. She’d been having trouble finding a decent black hoody, and finally gave up and gave in to AA. At least they’re not using those plastic zippers anymore. Still, they need to lose the white string and white tape.

On a fashion side note, the crowd at the show was pretty much what one would expect (although I thought there would be more people, shit probably wasn’t even half full), mostly dudes in dark clothes. However, there was a group of girls that looked straight out of a Rock of Love casting: those jeans that look like you pissed yourself, cheesy white tank tops, and the main offender kicking the corny white bandana, Brett Michaels-style, over her lame porny schoolgirl braids.

Everything There Is

2008-09-16T10:25:00.002-04:00

Man, like many people, I’m deeply saddened by David Foster Wallace’s death.

I checked Infinite Jest out of the library in 2001 and couldn’t put it down. I even stuffed the 1000+ page hardcover into my backpack for a trip to Italy because I couldn’t stop reading it. After that, I checked out everything else he’d written, and anxiously awaited any new release, except for that book about infinity, which I have at home and should get down to reading, but just couldn’t get into upon its publication.. I would say he isn’t just my favorite author, but he’s my favorite artist across all mediums. I feel that the overall quality of life is diminished by the fact that there will never be another new David Foster Wallace release. Of course, there will be the posthumous release or releases. I’m sure he’ll get nice treatment by Library of America, too, and I’ll have to track down whatever journalistic pieces I can find that I haven’t read.

Like many, I was shocked by the news of his death. Wallace, along with his intelligence, insight and humor, always displayed a great store of humanity and compassion. The story, “Good Old Neon,” is expressly about suicide, among other things, but it portrayed suicide as a choice one needn’t make. Wallace’s writings were always imbued with hope. When he made the commencement address at Kenyon in 2005, he gave the students an outline on how to live life in a meaningful way, discussing what he considered some of his flaws, along the way. I don’t want to speculate on what drove him to his death at 46.

I work at a college library. I assumed when I searched for our David Foster Wallace titles, I’d find they were all checked out. That’s not the case now, although a couple titles have been charged. I imagine they’ll soon all go off the shelves as people revisit Wallace or check him out for the first time.

I’m not the kind of person who wants first editions or autographs or who wants to get pictures with celebrities. A friend once asked me if, given the chance, I’d like to have a conversation with David Foster Wallace. I told that friend I’d probably be too intimidated. I’m rambling a little now. Back to the first editions thing, I always figured one day I’d get a nice collection of David Foster Wallace titles, maybe subsequent editions, too. Now, I think I just want to get a copy of each title, whatever is available at a book store, just so I have them, so I know they are there.

McSweeney’s is running a tribute to Wallace now, which is well worth checking out.

Muzak

2008-09-12T18:37:00.004-04:00

Hey, I didn't know that Skaht was in a music video!!

Well, I thought it was him, but Tanya told me that it's actually Conor Oberst of Bright Eyes. Could have fooled me. Tanya says that Skaht is way hotter, though.

Wah. Its okay. But, I'd rather chill with some Styx or something. They just don't make music like that any more.

Gurble

2008-09-12T16:11:00.006-04:00

I didn't go to work today. Last night, Skaht met me after rehearsal for a drink. That one drink turned into a few Ruby Red Gimlets and then before you know it, we were back at my place, drinking whiskey and making sexy time all night long (alcohol tends to lengthen the process.) It was a nice night, but as usual, I'm hung over.

I figured out that I should never go shopping after a whiskey sex night. When I'm hung over, I tend to make a quick shopping trip into a long shopping spree. I got some cute things though and didn't blow my budget, but I really don't need any more clothes.

Monkey just jumped on top of the door. He looks crazy.

Supposedly, Tatiana and I are going out to the Pill tonight, which will include more drinking and staying out late. I hope that my liver holds up. Its time for a detox week with Skaht - I'll have to ask him if he'd be into that.

Big Deal

2008-09-10T18:42:00.003-04:00

Wah. Who cares about Surprise Day?

These mofos are cooking some Weight Watchers thai dinner, drinking whiskey and smoking cigarettes.You think they could break me off some catnip so I could wile out and listen to some DM.

Surprise Day!

2008-09-10T18:28:00.004-04:00

Today is Surprise Day. Tanya and I started Surprise Day back in May. A little background: Tanya and I met on August 10th, 2007. So, back in May we decided that on the 10th of every month we’d buy each other a gift under $10.

In May, I got Tanya the Morrissey book (remaindered at the Barnes & Noble near where I work) and she got me a book about folding dollar bills into airplanes (and the USS Enterprise). The airplane book is at my apartment.

We were both a little late in the getting in June, which is obviously kind of retarded since they’re only $10 gifts, so we decided to hold off until July and present each other with gifts in the $10-$20 range. I got Tanya the Wizard Finger Puppet (shipping pushed it over $10) and she made me the Cod Pharmacy thing (supplies put it up around $20). She also ordered me a little green monster from Etsy and threw it in as a bonus. It’s on my desk at work.

In August, I got her the black cat candle from some store in Allston, and she got me the key-shaped bottle opener.

Today I presented her with the two wine glasses I got from Pier One on my way over, because my other idea didn’t work out. We’ve broken a lot of wine glasses, so it’s still an okay gift. She gave me the fish bookmark, made out of fish skin.

Ouch

2008-09-10T14:24:00.007-04:00

I just came back from a lunch with the executives at my consulting company. It went well I guess, but it’s something I hate having to do. You sit around a table and everyone forces themselves to talk. Conversational topics mostly revolve around the Patriots, the Red Sox and what someone’s kid said in the car the other day. These are topics that I have no knowledge of and don’t find particularly interesting – so all I can do is sit there and nod my head, feigning interest. It is torture.

I did, however, try to get in on the conversation today. One of the annoying guys who works in the World Trade Center with me was going on and on about some stupid car that he wants to sell. He asked me if I was interested in buying it. I said no and that I was getting along fine without a car. The big shot VP (who seems like a misogynist prick) was all like “No cah?! How can you have no cah!” After taking a big sip of my iced tea, I suppressed any thought of stabbing this guy with my butter knife and forged ahead, trying to appear calm and sophisticated so I could speak to this retard in a clear manner.

“Well, I live in the city, so there really isn’t a need for the expense. I like to walk a lot and I use public transportation. Not only that, I’m a member of this car share service called ZipCar.”

“Zipcah?! Oh yeah, I’ve seen some of does around town. Pretty nifty.” He said this as he elbowed his partner in the ribs in a joking fashion. This is the second time that he has done such a thing (and I’ve had lunch with him twice.) Every time I open my mouth to say something, it’s just so damn funny. It’s annoying and very unprofessional and Jesus, wouldn’t I love to beat him over the head with my handbag. If it wasn’t for the fact that I need this job, I would have done it by now.

What made the lunch even worse is the fact that I am completely hung-over today. This is the result of yet another evening of magnum-wine-bottle-drinking with Skaht. We did our usual thing of YouTube watching, although this time I ended up in a sailor themed bra and hat, not sure why…I just did.

As a general rule, I think that I need to cut off the alcohol when I start feeling the need to raid my burlesque costume stash on a weeknight. Weekends are okay. Weeknights are not.

It's just too bad you don't know what it is

2008-09-10T09:37:00.002-04:00

As usual, as Tanya and I wrapped up last night’s YouTube session, she started getting ready for bed and I still had some wine and was determined to smoke another cigarette. There are certain songs I play that Tanya isn’t usually interested in hearing. I’d already managed to sneak in the Commodores’ “Night Shift” and settled into a live version of Fleetwood Mac’s “Silver Springs.”

Then it was time to get into some late 80s/early 90s rap. I’ve been doing an improv show on a boat all summer and I’ve frequently referenced Geto Boys’ “Mind Playin Tricks.” Sadly, almost no one gets the reference. I’m glad to see it has a solid presence on YouTube.

I’ve definitely been excited for many an album release, but, growing up, I can think of two that really got me psyched. One was Beastie Boys’ “License to Ill,” which I ended up getting on vinyl at K-Mart because they were sold out of tapes (I was in third grade). I hope that shit is still somewhere in my parents house. The second is PE’s Fear of a Black Planet (probably fifth or sixth grade). I amassed many an hour listening to that while doing stuff like mowing the lawn or playing NES or Sega Genesis. I also bumped the shit out of the soundtracks to both Boyz N the Hood and Colors. My dad, surprisingly, honored my brother’s wish one Christmas and got him NWA’s Straight Outta Compton, which became the soundtrack to that Christmas day, much to our parents chagrin, as me and my bro played Double Dragon for something like 8 hours straight.

Wah!

2008-09-10T08:47:00.003-04:00

Monkey here. I figured that I’d take some time to blog a bit before I head under the bed to sleep all day. Yeah, that’s pretty much all I do during the week with Tanya and Skaht gone. Sure, it sounds like a nice life, but let me tell you – it ain’t all sunshine and roses.

Take, for example, my hairball problem. I was coughing that shit up for at least three days this week. Seriously, there were these nasty, gray hair ‘cigars’ all over the floor and Tanya freaked out because of it. I guess that she got online and found a ton of articles about cats getting ‘impacted’ from hairballs. Now, let me tell you…I normally don’t have an issue in the litter box department, but it did get me a bit riled up.

As a consequence of all this good advice she found, she ended up getting some Vaseline at the store and smearing it all over my front paws. Bitch, please! That shit is nasty. The only way to get it off is to lick it off, and let me tell you, its as bad as it sounds. It did seem to help me out with the hairballs, though. But, gross. Gross!!

Anyway, I’m getting tired from typing. Not having fingers (or even hands) makes typing a bit of a pain. Plus, I need to get my beauty sleep in now before Tanya and Skaht come back tonight. You can’t get any peace with those two around.

God help me if they make me wear the crab hat again. I look just as stupid as this cat looks here:

Hi

2008-09-09T20:50:00.001-04:00

Hey, this is our new blog. I’m Skaht . Tanya and I just ate at Mike’s in Davis Square, a cheap place to get drinks and food.

The other day, Tanya’s mom was talking about how crazy Sarah Palin is, and we couldn’t agree more. Of course, Tanya’s mom put her spin on it and when she talks about that crazy religious nut flapping around her retarded baby for all the world to see, well, what more is there to say? Tanya was looking into emigrating to Canada today. I think it’s still a little soon for that, since as a household we believe in hope and change.

If you ask me, the Republicans went way overboard, throwing a reformed Pentecostal gun freak on the bill, just because she’s a woman, to counterbalance Barak Obama’s unstoppable blackness. I mean, he’s only half black. The Republicans clearly should have rolled with a tranny who’s had the implants but not gender reidentification surgery. Then, I remembered, there aren’t any pre-operative tranny Republicans. Too bad for them.

Tanya’s cat Monkey is going to be posting, too.

Tanya and I spend a lot of time drinking wine and screwing around on the internet and trying to quit smoking, so we figured we should start a blog, because we can only look at so many YouTube videos, like Bronksi Beat’s “Smalltown Boy.”

Skaht and Tanya's Rice Pilaf

Obey Your Inner Douche

Chez Nous

FYBB

Still alive. Really!

Here We Go!

Life Right Now

Dance

Fourteen per Day

Surprise Day!

Just like that Enigma song...

Sure, I'll Post It

Merry Christmas

Christmas Gifts

Name that 80's band!

Special Guest

Snow

Picture of the Day

Call Me

RIP Miss Bettie

Drinkin' and Dialin'

I'm back

Surprise Day!

Together Forever

Num num num

VS Fashion Show

Newsflash: Victoria's Secret Sucks

This is most awesome show on tv

La la la la

Ice Cream Thank You

Friday

Part III: More Early November Crap

Part II: Election Magic

Updates Part I: Happy Belated Halloween

Surprise Day!

Working for the man - Part 1

Rules

Reflex

caffeine

~*~ Art Sunday ~*~

I'm back

Skaht and Tanya Do Salem

Autumn

AcidFace Mondays!

Surprise Day!

Can I Have a Scarf With That?

When Monkey is a sweet boy....

Stuff

We're on a road to nowhere - Part 2

We're on a road to nowhere - Part 1

Reach for the Starz!

low standards

With love for Skaht

Sarah

Magazine Filler Ain't Shit

About the Blog

Je suis malade

Calm

Get the F up

So Sahl-y

Work

Respect

A Problem with Kindness

Rowlf

White Shoelace

Thanks

Help the Aged

Everything There Is

Muzak

*Gurble*

Big Deal

Surprise Day!

Ouch

It's just too bad you don't know what it is

Wah!

Hi

~~ Art Sunday ~~

Gurble