I had a pleasant afternoon yesterday, after a horrible morning.
I went to meet Frank Daddy and he was lunching with Bianca.
He had been at the Penguin store where she works when I called.
He made some ridiculous sounds like the Penguin from the Batman TV show as a clue to his whereabouts.
As I was walking up toward Lincoln Road, I passed a middle school student carrying a violin case and I said "Fiddle me this, Batman" I don't think she got it or just found me extremely unfunny. Anyway the thoughts continued along the lines of a villain called The Fiddler and what all that would entail. This kept me entertained as I trekked up Meridian.
As I got closer to the Books & Books I noticed the pigeons were extremely slow moving and annoying and at one point thought of just picking one up and tucking it under my arm like a football and then giving it to Frank when I got to the table. But I didn't.
The dog was excited to see me, as always.
I arrived just as they were finishing up their lunch. The sweaty remnants of drinks were scattered on the table.
Frank was drinking tea and there was some debate as to whether it was good or not so I tasted it and dubbed it "drinkable." I ordered one when the waitress came by to drop of their check.
While we were sitting there a poodle went by wearing tiny John Lennon sunglasses.
It was funny and I dubbed him the Coodle (cool + poodle = coodle)
We all snickered except for the owner of the dog.
She should be happy because poodles are not really cool dogs to begin with and why do we always call those round glasses John Lennon glasses? How come he is associated with making them famous?
Plenty of people wore them well before he did. Even famous people.
Aren't those the same type of frames worn by Teddy Roosevelt?
How come we don't call them Teddy frames? He did a lot of shit too, you know?!
Of course he does get the bear and he didn't sing songs, I guess.
Anyway the afternoon was a good one and we wrapped up the day by enjoying the humor of David Sedaris at the Filmore later in the evening. He even signed his new book for me, which happens to be about animals.
Perhaps there will be a coodle.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Friday, August 19, 2011
Friendly Psycho in the Park
I had the most awesome encounter while walking the dog in the park the other day.
I met an honest to goodness psychopath. This was a Ted Bundy variety.
Now we all know how much I love meeting interesting characters and I know many, many sociopaths.
Hell, I even dated one for several years but this guy was way smoooooooth.
Here's how things went down:
A good looking man approaches me while walking his dog.
He asks a question about the dog that I am walking; Maggie, Frank's dog.
psycho:"Oh is she mixed"
me: "nope, I believe she is full beagle"
psycho: "Wow! she's really beautiful"
So I decide to entertain this further as Maggie was obviously not ready to go home any time soon.
While engaged in this idle chatter about the dog, Frank calls me to ask some question or other and I ask if he's fed Maggie.
After hanging up, the psycho starts to ask me several personal questions.
Are you from here? Oh, So where were you born then? on and on
It seemed quite interesting that when I was not from here, neither was he.
I moved to Denver just after I was born in Baltimore.
FUNNY COINCIDENCE "I just came back here from the Denver area"
really? do tell, Mr. Psycho.
When I told him Maggie had been thru training to volunteer at hospitals as a visiting pet, HE used to volunteer at the children's hospital. He really needed to get back into that.
When I told him I moved here from Atlanta, he used to live in Atlanta.
"What area were you in" he asked
I said "Marietta"
He said "Thats the area where I used to live. Oh what was that highway right by there?" while laughing at how 'coincidental' this has been.
I was thinking, "um, interstate 75" but never say anything - just that I was near Sandy Plains Rd and Roswell Rd. and lo and behold that is the EXACT area that he had lived. He couldn't name any specifics about the area when I prodded, only vague nothings.
This went on for a good while - so many coincidences, so little time!
I took another phone call in the midst of all this.
After I got off the phone I heard him talking to his dog, calling her by name and guess what it was??
Oh, you guessed it --- MAGGIE!!!!
what are the odds??
I was like "Wow!! That's this dog's name too!!!" pretending to be surprised and enchanted by this fact.
(I had not mentioned Frank's dog's name except when I was on the phone with Frank - I never said it while speaking to Chris the Psycho)
This fact is what tipped me off to him being a psycho.
The uber friendly I can understand if a guy is just hitting on you but for him to try to endear me by his dog and mine having the same name was the red flag for sure!!
He had eaves dropped on my phone conversation to garner that tidbit of information and use it much later in conversation, casually talking to his dog by name.
The dog was completely non responsive to all of it.
Some children came up and started throwing balls to Frank's dog and this seemed to freak out Mr. Psycho and throw him off his game.
Suddenly he had to leave - not announcing it but just walking away saying "okay nice talking to you" and then leaving.
I think he realized that it was going nowhere and now there were children and a mother in the group.
He no longer had my full attention to fall into whatever trap he was trying to set and spring.
Too bad for him.
I would have been curious to see if he drove a panel van.
It wouldn't have worked either way because the dog had dropped a deuce and I was ready to head back home.
Having so many things in 'common' made him completely uninteresting to me.
But it was cool being approached by a psycho and watching him operate while waiting for the dog to take a shit.
His dog, surprisingly enough, did not take a shit.
I met an honest to goodness psychopath. This was a Ted Bundy variety.
Now we all know how much I love meeting interesting characters and I know many, many sociopaths.
Hell, I even dated one for several years but this guy was way smoooooooth.
Here's how things went down:
A good looking man approaches me while walking his dog.
He asks a question about the dog that I am walking; Maggie, Frank's dog.
psycho:"Oh is she mixed"
me: "nope, I believe she is full beagle"
psycho: "Wow! she's really beautiful"
So I decide to entertain this further as Maggie was obviously not ready to go home any time soon.
While engaged in this idle chatter about the dog, Frank calls me to ask some question or other and I ask if he's fed Maggie.
After hanging up, the psycho starts to ask me several personal questions.
Are you from here? Oh, So where were you born then? on and on
It seemed quite interesting that when I was not from here, neither was he.
I moved to Denver just after I was born in Baltimore.
FUNNY COINCIDENCE "I just came back here from the Denver area"
really? do tell, Mr. Psycho.
When I told him Maggie had been thru training to volunteer at hospitals as a visiting pet, HE used to volunteer at the children's hospital. He really needed to get back into that.
When I told him I moved here from Atlanta, he used to live in Atlanta.
"What area were you in" he asked
I said "Marietta"
He said "Thats the area where I used to live. Oh what was that highway right by there?" while laughing at how 'coincidental' this has been.
I was thinking, "um, interstate 75" but never say anything - just that I was near Sandy Plains Rd and Roswell Rd. and lo and behold that is the EXACT area that he had lived. He couldn't name any specifics about the area when I prodded, only vague nothings.
This went on for a good while - so many coincidences, so little time!
I took another phone call in the midst of all this.
After I got off the phone I heard him talking to his dog, calling her by name and guess what it was??
Oh, you guessed it --- MAGGIE!!!!
what are the odds??
I was like "Wow!! That's this dog's name too!!!" pretending to be surprised and enchanted by this fact.
(I had not mentioned Frank's dog's name except when I was on the phone with Frank - I never said it while speaking to Chris the Psycho)
This fact is what tipped me off to him being a psycho.
The uber friendly I can understand if a guy is just hitting on you but for him to try to endear me by his dog and mine having the same name was the red flag for sure!!
He had eaves dropped on my phone conversation to garner that tidbit of information and use it much later in conversation, casually talking to his dog by name.
The dog was completely non responsive to all of it.
Some children came up and started throwing balls to Frank's dog and this seemed to freak out Mr. Psycho and throw him off his game.
Suddenly he had to leave - not announcing it but just walking away saying "okay nice talking to you" and then leaving.
I think he realized that it was going nowhere and now there were children and a mother in the group.
He no longer had my full attention to fall into whatever trap he was trying to set and spring.
Too bad for him.
I would have been curious to see if he drove a panel van.
It wouldn't have worked either way because the dog had dropped a deuce and I was ready to head back home.
Having so many things in 'common' made him completely uninteresting to me.
But it was cool being approached by a psycho and watching him operate while waiting for the dog to take a shit.
His dog, surprisingly enough, did not take a shit.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Curb Alert
I'm taking a walk in Hollywood today and in the neighborhood I notice that someone has put a white IKEA style sofa out on the curb.
A homeless guy saunters up to it and I watch as he sizes it up and gives it a thorough looking over and I wonder to myself "where is he going to take it?".
Perhaps he can just set it down on it's four legs and then is he home?
If he chose to sit as well as sleep there, is that not then his home?
How is that any different from my current arrangement except that he owns his sofa.
A homeless guy saunters up to it and I watch as he sizes it up and gives it a thorough looking over and I wonder to myself "where is he going to take it?".
Perhaps he can just set it down on it's four legs and then is he home?
If he chose to sit as well as sleep there, is that not then his home?
How is that any different from my current arrangement except that he owns his sofa.
 |
| From ...and another thing |
Friday, June 17, 2011
Fashion Sense or Nonsense?
Okay so today and the past few days off over the past few weeks I’ve been sitting here and there around South Beach doing some reading or just people watching, whatever.
One of the things I have been noticing in particular is the fashions and peoples’ lack of good fashion sense.
I think my biggest of the peeves I have this season is the ridiculous practice of wearing clothing from different seasons together. It looks dumb – just straight out dumb.
If you are wearing a beautifully light and flowing summer dress made from the lightest and coolest fabrics why in the hell would you pair that with the clunkiest thickest pair of winter boots you have in your closet?? Are you a three year old? Do you want to be a cowboy no matter where you are going?
It looks dumb. You look dumb.
Can’t you afford flip flops at the very least? You have to dig up whatever is in the bottom of your closet whether it matches or not? Walgreens usually has a good deal on cheap summer shoes if you need some and have a very limited shoe budget – or hey, how about just wearing last year’s summer shoes? Hell you’re wearing last year’s winter boots, dumbass and its 99 fucking degrees outside.
It looks dumb. You look dumb.
Can’t you afford flip flops at the very least? You have to dig up whatever is in the bottom of your closet whether it matches or not? Walgreens usually has a good deal on cheap summer shoes if you need some and have a very limited shoe budget – or hey, how about just wearing last year’s summer shoes? Hell you’re wearing last year’s winter boots, dumbass and its 99 fucking degrees outside.
Do you hate your feet? Are you trying to punish them for some reason?
Perhaps you are trying to breed a new bacteria or some new strain of athlete’s foot fungus – well then continue, as you are on the right track with wearing that heavy, sweat inducing foot gear.
A note to the lady in the red summer business dress – your black ankle boots from the winter of 2002 look ridiculous – find a nice pair of strappy summer sandals to wear to the office – it will make you look more like a business woman and less like a horse with giant hooves.
Hipster dudes, what’s with the knit hats? You going skiing on the slopes of South Beach later today? Trying to suffocate your head lice? Yeah it looks fabulous with your scarf and your board shorts, no shirt and your skate board, douche.
Even better with your striped shirt. (see below)
I would also like to address the wearing of high-heels with inappropriate attire. If you are going to the beach and are in your bikini then you should probably NOT be wearing 5 inch high heels and a shit-ton of bling jewelry – while the suit has been made to endure the ravages of the pool and or the sea, sun and sand, your current shoe and accessory selections have not.
High-heels should NEVER be worn with shorts under any circumstance unless you are a hooker; if so then carry on, please.
My next query, two words: yellow pants. What’s with them and why do men think this is a good choice in their selection of slacks? I can’t understand why these are even manufactured. Stop with the yellow pants unless you enjoy looking like an old yellow banana – perhaps you are trying to let us know something else about yourself or perhaps what you are concealing under your yellow pants.
“No, that’s not an old yellow banana in my pocket. Why do you ask?”
“No, that’s not an old yellow banana in my pocket. Why do you ask?”
Horizontal stripes; not just for mimes anymore?
This is directed especially to those who are of the “I think I’ll wear my yellow pants today” age. Absolutely no horizontal stripes please and thank-you. Pretty much if you are a man over the age of 25 you should not be wearing horizontal stripes. Freddy Kreuger is the only man to whom this rule probably doesn’t apply. They suit him and of course, the mimes – it’s their whole thing to begin with.
This is directed especially to those who are of the “I think I’ll wear my yellow pants today” age. Absolutely no horizontal stripes please and thank-you. Pretty much if you are a man over the age of 25 you should not be wearing horizontal stripes. Freddy Kreuger is the only man to whom this rule probably doesn’t apply. They suit him and of course, the mimes – it’s their whole thing to begin with.
You’re still cool to wear them, although it in no way makes you cool because after all, you are still a mime.
If you’re not wearing a shirt, gentlemen please, carry your backpack in your hand. Do not wear it.
I’m not even going to address the saggy oversized shorts with the boxer shorts hanging out and dudes holding them up with a belt cinched around their butts except to say this:
the Scarecrow from the ‘Wizard of Oz.’
‘Nuff said.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
A few things I've learned from TV & movies
Occasionally, while watching a movie or a TV show, I will see something and think 'I really should remember that' or think that I've witnessed something that should be retained for future reference.
Here are a few of those little tidbits I've decided are worth storing in the crevasses of the back of my brain.
Mental note:
* you can live in a storage unit if you really need to - Side Show Bob has done it.
* never trust a guy in a hoodie (esp. if he has pulled it down to partially obscure his eyes and/or face)
* never and I mean NEVER buy anything from a Chinese gift shop - EVER!
* there are different kinds/colors of vans for various crimes:
- white panel van with no windows is for child abduction
- red/brown 70s or 80s conversion style or panel van is usually a rapist van (STAY AWAY)
- gun runners seem to like the step or utility style van that appears to be a commercial vehicle
- just avoid the ice cream man at all costs
* I can probably outrun a costumed murderer
* turn the lights on
* your period, the herpes and erectile dysfunction all allow you to take fabulous vacations / great golf getaways
* you can buy just about anything for three easy payments of just 19.99 and promptness is awarded with a second useful item at no extra cost to you
I'm sure there are more things and perhaps I will add to the list as I continue to access the far reaches of my brain. That's all for now tho.....
Here are a few of those little tidbits I've decided are worth storing in the crevasses of the back of my brain.
Mental note:
* you can live in a storage unit if you really need to - Side Show Bob has done it.
* never trust a guy in a hoodie (esp. if he has pulled it down to partially obscure his eyes and/or face)
* never and I mean NEVER buy anything from a Chinese gift shop - EVER!
* there are different kinds/colors of vans for various crimes:
- white panel van with no windows is for child abduction
- red/brown 70s or 80s conversion style or panel van is usually a rapist van (STAY AWAY)
- gun runners seem to like the step or utility style van that appears to be a commercial vehicle
- just avoid the ice cream man at all costs
* I can probably outrun a costumed murderer
* turn the lights on
* your period, the herpes and erectile dysfunction all allow you to take fabulous vacations / great golf getaways
* you can buy just about anything for three easy payments of just 19.99 and promptness is awarded with a second useful item at no extra cost to you
I'm sure there are more things and perhaps I will add to the list as I continue to access the far reaches of my brain. That's all for now tho.....
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
4 20: A Blog about How to Get Marijuana Legalized
Clearly everyone out there trying to get marijuana legalized 'for medical purposes' is stoned, hence their inability to actually get it legalized. So I am here to do the clear thinking for you. again. First, go get some Taco Bell, then settle down and read this to have your mind absolutely blown away, man.
I have people come up to me all the time with petitions to sign to join the good fight to have marijuana legalized for medical use. I am all for the legalization of marijuana for medical use. Hell, anyone who knows me and my spinal cord issues knows that I am a prime candidate. So why do I never sign the petitions?
Well, I'm gonna tell you why.
I thought about this on many occasions and came up with the same result. I have even explained my results to several of the petitioners who must have been too stoned to really be able to fully absorb what I am about to share with you.
I am a designer and have worked with the marketing teams for some of the most high profile companies in the world. This is what I have learned. Presentation is everything.
If you want normal people to take the issue seriously, it needs to be presented seriously.
I am always approached by someone wearing at least one article of tie-dyed clothing, with dreads and reeking of patchouli, incense, reggae and all the other offensive odors associated with the pot smoking culture.
I don't even want to stand near you for five seconds, let alone long enough to write my name on a clip-boarded sheet of paper. I also don't believe you have anything other than personal recreation use in mind if you should succeed with your mission of legalization. Yes, I'm calling you a liar, hippie.
If you really want marijuana legalized you must appeal to the norm ie: the people who can actually vote to get it legalized because they get up at normal hours and leave the house before the polls close.
Put on a suit or get someone you know to put on a suit. Take a bath. Use soap. Limit your use of the words 'man' and 'whoa' and 'dude' I'm the first one to jump into conspiracy mode but you must not bash the government and speak of hidden agendas and all that, after all the government is going to be the entity that has to legalize it and then also dispense it. You want them on your side, thats the whole point here.
They have the good shit.
If at all possible have an actual person who could benefit from the medical use of marijuana out there with you. Someone with glaucoma or a handicapped person or someone with a terminal painful condition, like myself (I could come with you in your suit, and complain and moan about how much pain I'm in like I do everyday-they would sign it just to shut me up)
And really that's the point here. All the medically necessary users need to bitch and moan and complain enough that the squeaky wheel gets the grease.
People are uncomfortable around the handicapped and the blind - let's use that to our advantage.
My sister would never sign a petition like that as it stands now even knowing what I have to live with daily - BUT if a cute clean cut young man in a suit or traditional 'regular guy' garb approached her and flirted a bit, she would sign in a heart beat! That's how the regular folk are and that's who you need to get this (pardon the pun) rolling.
Get them damn hippies off the street and back on the couches where they belong.
Lets get it legalized the RIGHT way, people.
Do you hear what I'm saying, dude?
Can I get a "whoa?"
I have people come up to me all the time with petitions to sign to join the good fight to have marijuana legalized for medical use. I am all for the legalization of marijuana for medical use. Hell, anyone who knows me and my spinal cord issues knows that I am a prime candidate. So why do I never sign the petitions?
Well, I'm gonna tell you why.
I thought about this on many occasions and came up with the same result. I have even explained my results to several of the petitioners who must have been too stoned to really be able to fully absorb what I am about to share with you.
I am a designer and have worked with the marketing teams for some of the most high profile companies in the world. This is what I have learned. Presentation is everything.
If you want normal people to take the issue seriously, it needs to be presented seriously.
I am always approached by someone wearing at least one article of tie-dyed clothing, with dreads and reeking of patchouli, incense, reggae and all the other offensive odors associated with the pot smoking culture.
I don't even want to stand near you for five seconds, let alone long enough to write my name on a clip-boarded sheet of paper. I also don't believe you have anything other than personal recreation use in mind if you should succeed with your mission of legalization. Yes, I'm calling you a liar, hippie.
If you really want marijuana legalized you must appeal to the norm ie: the people who can actually vote to get it legalized because they get up at normal hours and leave the house before the polls close.
Put on a suit or get someone you know to put on a suit. Take a bath. Use soap. Limit your use of the words 'man' and 'whoa' and 'dude' I'm the first one to jump into conspiracy mode but you must not bash the government and speak of hidden agendas and all that, after all the government is going to be the entity that has to legalize it and then also dispense it. You want them on your side, thats the whole point here.
They have the good shit.
If at all possible have an actual person who could benefit from the medical use of marijuana out there with you. Someone with glaucoma or a handicapped person or someone with a terminal painful condition, like myself (I could come with you in your suit, and complain and moan about how much pain I'm in like I do everyday-they would sign it just to shut me up)
And really that's the point here. All the medically necessary users need to bitch and moan and complain enough that the squeaky wheel gets the grease.
People are uncomfortable around the handicapped and the blind - let's use that to our advantage.
My sister would never sign a petition like that as it stands now even knowing what I have to live with daily - BUT if a cute clean cut young man in a suit or traditional 'regular guy' garb approached her and flirted a bit, she would sign in a heart beat! That's how the regular folk are and that's who you need to get this (pardon the pun) rolling.
Get them damn hippies off the street and back on the couches where they belong.
Lets get it legalized the RIGHT way, people.
Do you hear what I'm saying, dude?
Can I get a "whoa?"
Monday, April 11, 2011
searching for work
Looking for work makes me begin to wonder what job it is that I would REALLY like to have.
You know, a job that you would love to go to every day.
Something to look forward to and feel like I'm making a contribution to society. A way to leave my mark once I've left this world.
These are a few of the occupations that sprang to mind almost immediately:
• Fortune Cookie Fortune Writer.
How sweet would this gig be? Especially knowing that people always tack on "in bed" at the end of their fortune? Awesome for sure. I could write things like "Today you will have a change of heart" or perhaps "Don't look for happiness. It will find you" See? I'm really good at this AND when you add the extra bit..... "I'm even better" ;-)
this obviously led to the closest kin of the fortune cookie that we have...
• Dove 'Loney Girl' Chocolates Inspirational Message Writer.
For these we don't need to worry about adding the "in bed" portion because we all know if you're eating these its because you haven't been "in bed" for quite some time. These need to be more realistic though. Stop with the "Take advantage of every free moment you have" and the "Keep the promises you make to yourself" crap. Let's give the ladies helpful advice like "Lose 10 pounds, you'll feel better" or "Reality TV isn't real" or how about just coming right out with it "Save half the bag for tomorrow"
of course deep down we all know I love art so there's
•Make-up Color Namer.
I think this is a job that could really use my skills as an artist as well as some help and honesty. You know how it is ladies, what the hell is 'midnight rouge' or 'pink in the afternoon' Really? WTF?
But I'm pretty sure every lady out there knows what 'Hooker Red" is and THAT's what I'm talking about; being honest so you can find your perfect shade.
For face make-up and powders I would have the skin tones more easy to identify. Fuck neutral beige.
I'm talking about colors like "Ghostly Goth White" and "Pumpkin Face Orange" and for those that like the artificially tanned look there's "Beef Jerky" and "Honey Baked Ham"
For blusher there's really only one color because NO ONE ever gets this right so let's just make it "Clown Pink"
Lipsticks come in many shades. "Bright Pink Only a Teenager Should be Wearing so Put it back, Grandma" and the afore mentioned "Hooker Red" there's the lovely "I've Been Dead for 3 Days" and a bit darker than that is "Help Me I'm Not Getting Enough Oxygen" and "Goth Kid Black"
Nail polishes run similar to the lipstick shades to avoid any confusion and to help match shades more easily. The eye shadows are pretty simple too. We have "Mom's 1960s Horrid Green" and "Mom's 1960s Light Blue" Then there's the brownish purples "Just Got Punched in the Eye" and "Punched in the Eye Yesterday" and of course "Goth Kid black"
I could revolutionize the industry!
The last job that sprang to mind I kind of already have but unfortunately don't get paid for it..... yet.
•Beer Taster/Reviewer.
Ask Frank MacBride how good I am at this!! I used to go to the Abbey Brewing Company on Miami Beach and sample all the lovely offerings the taps could provide. There's the lovely IPA with the aroma of cat pee and the finish of grapefruit rind. I think that's Frank's favorite - or at least it used to be. There was the one that tasted like a bock beer in which someone left a band aid for about a week and then removed it and added a single drop of Jaegermeister. Mmmmm Mmmmmm. Sounds as refreshing as it tasted. But there's also my favorite, the one that tastes like apricots.
So there you have it. A few of my dream jobs. If you hear of any openings be sure to let me know or feel free to go ahead and drop my name. I'm cool with that.
You know, a job that you would love to go to every day.
Something to look forward to and feel like I'm making a contribution to society. A way to leave my mark once I've left this world.
These are a few of the occupations that sprang to mind almost immediately:
• Fortune Cookie Fortune Writer.
How sweet would this gig be? Especially knowing that people always tack on "in bed" at the end of their fortune? Awesome for sure. I could write things like "Today you will have a change of heart" or perhaps "Don't look for happiness. It will find you" See? I'm really good at this AND when you add the extra bit..... "I'm even better" ;-)
this obviously led to the closest kin of the fortune cookie that we have...
• Dove 'Loney Girl' Chocolates Inspirational Message Writer.
For these we don't need to worry about adding the "in bed" portion because we all know if you're eating these its because you haven't been "in bed" for quite some time. These need to be more realistic though. Stop with the "Take advantage of every free moment you have" and the "Keep the promises you make to yourself" crap. Let's give the ladies helpful advice like "Lose 10 pounds, you'll feel better" or "Reality TV isn't real" or how about just coming right out with it "Save half the bag for tomorrow"
of course deep down we all know I love art so there's
•Make-up Color Namer.
I think this is a job that could really use my skills as an artist as well as some help and honesty. You know how it is ladies, what the hell is 'midnight rouge' or 'pink in the afternoon' Really? WTF?
But I'm pretty sure every lady out there knows what 'Hooker Red" is and THAT's what I'm talking about; being honest so you can find your perfect shade.
For face make-up and powders I would have the skin tones more easy to identify. Fuck neutral beige.
I'm talking about colors like "Ghostly Goth White" and "Pumpkin Face Orange" and for those that like the artificially tanned look there's "Beef Jerky" and "Honey Baked Ham"
For blusher there's really only one color because NO ONE ever gets this right so let's just make it "Clown Pink"
Lipsticks come in many shades. "Bright Pink Only a Teenager Should be Wearing so Put it back, Grandma" and the afore mentioned "Hooker Red" there's the lovely "I've Been Dead for 3 Days" and a bit darker than that is "Help Me I'm Not Getting Enough Oxygen" and "Goth Kid Black"
Nail polishes run similar to the lipstick shades to avoid any confusion and to help match shades more easily. The eye shadows are pretty simple too. We have "Mom's 1960s Horrid Green" and "Mom's 1960s Light Blue" Then there's the brownish purples "Just Got Punched in the Eye" and "Punched in the Eye Yesterday" and of course "Goth Kid black"
I could revolutionize the industry!
The last job that sprang to mind I kind of already have but unfortunately don't get paid for it..... yet.
•Beer Taster/Reviewer.
Ask Frank MacBride how good I am at this!! I used to go to the Abbey Brewing Company on Miami Beach and sample all the lovely offerings the taps could provide. There's the lovely IPA with the aroma of cat pee and the finish of grapefruit rind. I think that's Frank's favorite - or at least it used to be. There was the one that tasted like a bock beer in which someone left a band aid for about a week and then removed it and added a single drop of Jaegermeister. Mmmmm Mmmmmm. Sounds as refreshing as it tasted. But there's also my favorite, the one that tastes like apricots.
So there you have it. A few of my dream jobs. If you hear of any openings be sure to let me know or feel free to go ahead and drop my name. I'm cool with that.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Why would you sell furniture at the grocery store?
It's April and that is the thing that is bugging me so far this month.
That and my insomnia. After a bit of research I've discovered its got a name, DSPS to go along with my PTSD. Seems my circadian cycle is all jacked up and from what I remember, it has been since I was about 4. Oh well, what can you do? The treatments and recommendations all seemed a bit too complicated and expensive BUT if I move to the west coast, I think I will be fine actually.
This totally explains why I can keep a normal schedule everytime I'm in L.A.
Durning my incredible 3 day straight bout of insomnia I had some strange dreams and some weird revelations etc. etc. etc.
I had a dream about planes. I was in a field somewhere with some kids or maybe I was a kid too, not really sure, and this large plane flies right by us through the wooded area behind us. It looked like a mix between the SR-71 and an X wing fighter from Star Wars. It made no sound. None at all.
I remarked that it was a stealth plane and explained how the plane was able to absorb sound as opposed to creating it. Was quite interesting science behind it that I completely understood and explained within the confines of my dream. I explained that it even absorbed the sounds of other objects making sounds such as the trees that it broke as it passed through the woods.
I then saw a second plane that looked like a 1940s army truck of some sort mixed with an F series jet of some sort. Not too much detail on that one except that when it landed it retracted its wings and drove off like the truck.
Perhaps in my strange brain, mixed somewhere among my crazy math gift/curse this all really makes sense and I really should be doing some sort of research, somewhere.
Instead I just woke up and thought "that was weird and kind of cool" and was a little depressed that my cool planes didn't really exist.
The other thing that bothered me was about stupid people. Do they know when they start getting old?
I mean, I know smart people do because they begin to realize it is becomming harder to read without glasses and stuff like that. Then upon further contemplation I thought, "no, I dont think they have a damn clue and thats why you see old ladies with hot pink nails and lipstick that really only looks good on young people" That damn idiot doesn't realize she's old.
Another thing that old idiots seem to like to do is drive. Again, too dumb and old to realize they shouldn't be doing it any longer because they are a danger to themselves and everyone else on the damn planet. Proof that they are idiots is the fact that people always claim "well they have no other option for getting around, poor things" Well if they were smart they could figure something out, now couldn't they?
Okay so that's my April so far. I have begun to practice 'sleep hygiene' today so will see how that fares in the treatment of my insomnia. I have an interview on Friday in the early morning (10:30 my time is early morning) so I need to be fresh and exciting for all that shit.
I'll keep you posted.
That and my insomnia. After a bit of research I've discovered its got a name, DSPS to go along with my PTSD. Seems my circadian cycle is all jacked up and from what I remember, it has been since I was about 4. Oh well, what can you do? The treatments and recommendations all seemed a bit too complicated and expensive BUT if I move to the west coast, I think I will be fine actually.
This totally explains why I can keep a normal schedule everytime I'm in L.A.
Durning my incredible 3 day straight bout of insomnia I had some strange dreams and some weird revelations etc. etc. etc.
I had a dream about planes. I was in a field somewhere with some kids or maybe I was a kid too, not really sure, and this large plane flies right by us through the wooded area behind us. It looked like a mix between the SR-71 and an X wing fighter from Star Wars. It made no sound. None at all.
I remarked that it was a stealth plane and explained how the plane was able to absorb sound as opposed to creating it. Was quite interesting science behind it that I completely understood and explained within the confines of my dream. I explained that it even absorbed the sounds of other objects making sounds such as the trees that it broke as it passed through the woods.
I then saw a second plane that looked like a 1940s army truck of some sort mixed with an F series jet of some sort. Not too much detail on that one except that when it landed it retracted its wings and drove off like the truck.
Perhaps in my strange brain, mixed somewhere among my crazy math gift/curse this all really makes sense and I really should be doing some sort of research, somewhere.
Instead I just woke up and thought "that was weird and kind of cool" and was a little depressed that my cool planes didn't really exist.
The other thing that bothered me was about stupid people. Do they know when they start getting old?
I mean, I know smart people do because they begin to realize it is becomming harder to read without glasses and stuff like that. Then upon further contemplation I thought, "no, I dont think they have a damn clue and thats why you see old ladies with hot pink nails and lipstick that really only looks good on young people" That damn idiot doesn't realize she's old.
Another thing that old idiots seem to like to do is drive. Again, too dumb and old to realize they shouldn't be doing it any longer because they are a danger to themselves and everyone else on the damn planet. Proof that they are idiots is the fact that people always claim "well they have no other option for getting around, poor things" Well if they were smart they could figure something out, now couldn't they?
Okay so that's my April so far. I have begun to practice 'sleep hygiene' today so will see how that fares in the treatment of my insomnia. I have an interview on Friday in the early morning (10:30 my time is early morning) so I need to be fresh and exciting for all that shit.
I'll keep you posted.
Monday, March 14, 2011
It's March
I need to write in this thing.
I have plenty to say but no time to say it.
Too busy looking for work, polishing resume, avoiding a reel by making a portfolio blog instead.
I have alot to complain about in this whole job search process. ugh.
Don't understand how it is that a Graphic Designer is expected to know, not only how to create graphics, but also know how to do web programming and edit video. BUT if you look at the web programmer jobs they are NOT required to know how to do graphics or edit video AND if you look at the video editors they are also NOT required to know graphic design and web programming.
What the fuck is that shit all about?
You want to get a graphic designer to do three jobs for the pay of less than one?
I seriously have seen several posts that expect a designer to be able to edit and program for the web for a grand total salary or 35K!
Seriously?
ugh
I have plenty to say but no time to say it.
Too busy looking for work, polishing resume, avoiding a reel by making a portfolio blog instead.
I have alot to complain about in this whole job search process. ugh.
Don't understand how it is that a Graphic Designer is expected to know, not only how to create graphics, but also know how to do web programming and edit video. BUT if you look at the web programmer jobs they are NOT required to know how to do graphics or edit video AND if you look at the video editors they are also NOT required to know graphic design and web programming.
What the fuck is that shit all about?
You want to get a graphic designer to do three jobs for the pay of less than one?
I seriously have seen several posts that expect a designer to be able to edit and program for the web for a grand total salary or 35K!
Seriously?
ugh
Thursday, February 10, 2011
The Bike Incident: A Gina and Frank shennanigan. (circa 2006)
When I moved to Miami, I brought my bike with me. It was a lovely Diamondback lightweight aluminum and graphite body fit perfectly for me. I chose it because of all the features being easy on my neck injury and my ability to manipulate it with relative ease.
Anyhoo, for close to 2 years I rode the bike without incident. When I would get home, I would always lock my bike to the rail on the entrance to my apartment building. Because the bike was relatively easy to lift, I was able to fasten it to the rail, elevating it from the ground.
One day I came downstairs from my apartment to go for a bike ride and lo and behold, my bike had been stolen. I have my ideas about who stole it and why but that is another story and not really relevant here.
So a few days go by and I am upset about my bike. It was pretty expensive and now I had no bike.
I was sad.
Frank Daddy was living with Yvette in the apartment across the street from mine at the time.
At around 2 in the morning Frank calls me to see if I want to go to Walgreen's with him for a snack run. I wasn't really doing anything so I say okay and meet him in front of his building by his car.
We go to Walgreen's and buy our junk food. Frank buys a large candy bar. The kind you get at the movie theater. It was ridiculously large and filled with caramel. And some sort of soda pop, most likely diet. bleh.
Arriving back at Frank's he asks if I wanna come watch a movie. I decline and head back across the street to my place. As I do this I see our local crack head riding down the middle of the street on, you guessed it, MY BIKE!! I couldn't believe it!!!
I shouted to Frank, who was just climbing the stoop to his building. "My bike!! My bike!!" I kept yelling.
"Frank, it's my bike!!!"
Well the crackhead stops immediately about 2 yards from me. I realize he only did this because he saw Frank lumbering over and noted Frank's large stature - especially compared to his own. He got off the bike and faced me. I explained that my bike had been stolen earlier in the week and that this was MY bike.
He swore he just paid 20 bux for it and had no idea about it being stolen or not. The whole time he keeps looking nervously at Frank who is just standing there eating his ridiculously large candy bar, not saying a word.
I continue the exchange with the crackhead. I tell him I have the registration papers upstairs and we can call the police if he'd like. He assures me there is no need to bring the police into this. I told him if I had 20 dollars I would give it to him for the bike but considering that it was now like 2:30 in the morning, I had no cash on me. The crackhead decides this is all getting too weird for him and being quite skittish to begin with, he just takes off running down the street leaving the bike behind.
Okay, cool. I got my bike back! =)
I start to wheel my bike back toward my building and Frank follows me, still eating that dang candy bar.
It was really a big candy bar. I'm not kidding.
Reaching the steps of my place, Frank offers to carry the bike up for me. I tell him not to bother I lift it all the time. Frank goes up the stairs and holds the door open for me.
As I begin to lift the bike, one thing becomes quite apparent to me.
I say to Frank, "This isn't my bike. My bike wasn't this heavy."
Frank shrugs and I decide he needs to carry the bike upstairs for me.
Yes, we stole a bike from a crack head at 2:30 one lovely morning on Miami Beach.
I never rode the bike and it is now fastened to a fence in South Beach where it is rusting into oblivion because I can't find the key to the lock.
True story.
Anyhoo, for close to 2 years I rode the bike without incident. When I would get home, I would always lock my bike to the rail on the entrance to my apartment building. Because the bike was relatively easy to lift, I was able to fasten it to the rail, elevating it from the ground.
One day I came downstairs from my apartment to go for a bike ride and lo and behold, my bike had been stolen. I have my ideas about who stole it and why but that is another story and not really relevant here.
So a few days go by and I am upset about my bike. It was pretty expensive and now I had no bike.
I was sad.
Frank Daddy was living with Yvette in the apartment across the street from mine at the time.
At around 2 in the morning Frank calls me to see if I want to go to Walgreen's with him for a snack run. I wasn't really doing anything so I say okay and meet him in front of his building by his car.
We go to Walgreen's and buy our junk food. Frank buys a large candy bar. The kind you get at the movie theater. It was ridiculously large and filled with caramel. And some sort of soda pop, most likely diet. bleh.
Arriving back at Frank's he asks if I wanna come watch a movie. I decline and head back across the street to my place. As I do this I see our local crack head riding down the middle of the street on, you guessed it, MY BIKE!! I couldn't believe it!!!
I shouted to Frank, who was just climbing the stoop to his building. "My bike!! My bike!!" I kept yelling.
"Frank, it's my bike!!!"
Well the crackhead stops immediately about 2 yards from me. I realize he only did this because he saw Frank lumbering over and noted Frank's large stature - especially compared to his own. He got off the bike and faced me. I explained that my bike had been stolen earlier in the week and that this was MY bike.
He swore he just paid 20 bux for it and had no idea about it being stolen or not. The whole time he keeps looking nervously at Frank who is just standing there eating his ridiculously large candy bar, not saying a word.
I continue the exchange with the crackhead. I tell him I have the registration papers upstairs and we can call the police if he'd like. He assures me there is no need to bring the police into this. I told him if I had 20 dollars I would give it to him for the bike but considering that it was now like 2:30 in the morning, I had no cash on me. The crackhead decides this is all getting too weird for him and being quite skittish to begin with, he just takes off running down the street leaving the bike behind.
Okay, cool. I got my bike back! =)
I start to wheel my bike back toward my building and Frank follows me, still eating that dang candy bar.
It was really a big candy bar. I'm not kidding.
Reaching the steps of my place, Frank offers to carry the bike up for me. I tell him not to bother I lift it all the time. Frank goes up the stairs and holds the door open for me.
As I begin to lift the bike, one thing becomes quite apparent to me.
I say to Frank, "This isn't my bike. My bike wasn't this heavy."
Frank shrugs and I decide he needs to carry the bike upstairs for me.
Yes, we stole a bike from a crack head at 2:30 one lovely morning on Miami Beach.
I never rode the bike and it is now fastened to a fence in South Beach where it is rusting into oblivion because I can't find the key to the lock.
True story.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
My Supreme Painting Skillz (with a 'z')
While I was staying with my sister in Atlanta, she kind of volunteered me to paint some sneakers for some high school kid. Evidently her friend's son had stained his white Vans brand canvas vulcanized oxfords and so they decided they would just get something painted on them..... and of course my sister volunteers me.
Thanks.
So I tell her I need to know what he's into or what he likes - to get a feel for what to paint on the sneakers since I have no idea who this kid is. So she tells me he's in ROTC but she really doesn't really know much beyond that - she has to call the kid's mom and she says she'll talk to him and get back to us.
When she calls back she says they have some things written out for me and will give it to me when we come to get the sneakers. whatever.
We go to get the sneakers. We get there and the kid has two pages of visual aides for me to follow; one for each shoe. I look them over and don't think much about it. A few band logos, some weird band icon, a lightning storm and a large German flag. okay. I'll see what I can do.
In the car on the way back I'm looking over these sheets a little more closely while my sister fills me in on a few factoids about this kid because I was curious about why the German flag.
sister: "Oh, well he's really into German stuff. He's fascinated with the Nazis and Hitler. He's always watching the History channel."
me: "um, okay."
I notice one of the bands is Rammstein. I think about the flag - the dirty white shoes - hmmm.
I think I've just painted some shoes for a white supremacist.
He'll be at the Rally wearing his white sheet and my fancy-ass shoes poking out from underneath! Oh my.
Next thing you know my shoes will be all the rage with the skinheads - yay.
And I only made 30 bux.
Thanks.
So I tell her I need to know what he's into or what he likes - to get a feel for what to paint on the sneakers since I have no idea who this kid is. So she tells me he's in ROTC but she really doesn't really know much beyond that - she has to call the kid's mom and she says she'll talk to him and get back to us.
When she calls back she says they have some things written out for me and will give it to me when we come to get the sneakers. whatever.
We go to get the sneakers. We get there and the kid has two pages of visual aides for me to follow; one for each shoe. I look them over and don't think much about it. A few band logos, some weird band icon, a lightning storm and a large German flag. okay. I'll see what I can do.
In the car on the way back I'm looking over these sheets a little more closely while my sister fills me in on a few factoids about this kid because I was curious about why the German flag.
sister: "Oh, well he's really into German stuff. He's fascinated with the Nazis and Hitler. He's always watching the History channel."
me: "um, okay."
I notice one of the bands is Rammstein. I think about the flag - the dirty white shoes - hmmm.
I think I've just painted some shoes for a white supremacist.
He'll be at the Rally wearing his white sheet and my fancy-ass shoes poking out from underneath! Oh my.
Next thing you know my shoes will be all the rage with the skinheads - yay.
And I only made 30 bux.
Construction Zone: a C-O-N spiracy
As I drove from Miami to Atlanta and then from Atlanta to Louisville, I noticed there were quite a few "construction zones" on the various highways. The strange thing about this, however, was that in NONE of these posted areas was there any sort of actual construction taking place.
Oh there were quite a few trucks of various construction types ie: bulldozers, dump trucks, steam rollers and the like looming like sleeping dinosaurs within the containment of the pylons or reflective oil barrels but no actual workers.
The main reason I bring this up is that this was the case in ALL of the construction zones in every state through which I travelled. So this is what I believe is going on here:
as one approaches each of these areas, there are numerous brightly colored signs warning of their existence and the fact that all traffic fines are doubled should you choose to break the law in any of said areas.
So are the fines still doubled if there are no workers present or no actual work being performed?
Are these areas just set up by the DOT in cahoots with the state in order to make more money from the lawbreakers? Could this possibly be worse than a speed trap?
and imagine if you end up going to jail for this- how would you ever be able to explain that to Big Al in the joint?
"what are you in for, bitch?"
"Oh, me? I was hauling ass through a construction zone! Don't fuck with me! It ain't nothing for me to threaten the safety of DOT workers who aren't even there! You best step off, yo!"
Seriously?
I smell a C-O-N spiracy for sure.
Oh there were quite a few trucks of various construction types ie: bulldozers, dump trucks, steam rollers and the like looming like sleeping dinosaurs within the containment of the pylons or reflective oil barrels but no actual workers.
The main reason I bring this up is that this was the case in ALL of the construction zones in every state through which I travelled. So this is what I believe is going on here:
as one approaches each of these areas, there are numerous brightly colored signs warning of their existence and the fact that all traffic fines are doubled should you choose to break the law in any of said areas.
So are the fines still doubled if there are no workers present or no actual work being performed?
Are these areas just set up by the DOT in cahoots with the state in order to make more money from the lawbreakers? Could this possibly be worse than a speed trap?
and imagine if you end up going to jail for this- how would you ever be able to explain that to Big Al in the joint?
"what are you in for, bitch?"
"Oh, me? I was hauling ass through a construction zone! Don't fuck with me! It ain't nothing for me to threaten the safety of DOT workers who aren't even there! You best step off, yo!"
Seriously?
I smell a C-O-N spiracy for sure.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Trash
I was lying around thinking about trash a while back. I guess because we had been talking about "Idiocracy" which led me to contemplate trash when I was trying to fall asleep. As with most of the world's large problems, I believe I came up with what seems to be a reasonable, yet simple solution.
First I thought about from where it was that the trash comes. I thought about this at the most basic level. Everything we create, which then becomes trash, has come from the ground in some form. All of it. There are large holes in the earth in many areas from mining. Huge empty quarries. Everything is made from something that we have mined from the earth.
Next I thought about how we currently deal with our trash problems. We pile it up in big mounds or float it on barges on various bodies of water. This is the problem. It doesn't go away. The junk piled up take forever to break down and become part of the earth again. Some of the bits never break down, like the plastic things. So what do we do with that stuff?
Well, I'll tell ya.
Seems to me the problem is in the break down. It doesn't happen quick enough. We take crap from the earth faster than the earth takes it back. All we have to do is help it along. We need to break it down for the earth.
I propose that all garbage trucks come equipped with chipper/shredder type devices to break up the trash into small "bite-sized" chunks. Once the garbage is removed from the trucks it then needs to go into a machine that grinds it up even further. The bits can then be deposited in the earth. We need to start with the quarries and mines and other large holes we created in the earth. Fill them up first. Why pile the trash up when we have perfectly good holes from whence it originally came? I don't believe anyone is using these "holes" and most of them are dangerous or unused space anyway.
"What about the plastic?" you may ask (especially if you are a hippie earth-hugger of some sort) Well, what about the plastic? Sure it doesn't break down but it's ground up into really tiny bits. Remember? It's mixed in with all the other trash bits and even if it doesn't break down it will become a part of the earth. We might possibly be creating some sort of new soil but since nothing is being done with the mines and quarries and various holes, does it really matter? It will eventually pack itself down into some layer of the earth. From what I understand, plastic freely exchanges it molecules with other things that come in contact with it, so what it creates may end up being some sort of "super soil" with any luck.
I think my plan will work. After all, look at sand; it's just really tiny ground up bits of glass, right?
First I thought about from where it was that the trash comes. I thought about this at the most basic level. Everything we create, which then becomes trash, has come from the ground in some form. All of it. There are large holes in the earth in many areas from mining. Huge empty quarries. Everything is made from something that we have mined from the earth.
Next I thought about how we currently deal with our trash problems. We pile it up in big mounds or float it on barges on various bodies of water. This is the problem. It doesn't go away. The junk piled up take forever to break down and become part of the earth again. Some of the bits never break down, like the plastic things. So what do we do with that stuff?
Well, I'll tell ya.
Seems to me the problem is in the break down. It doesn't happen quick enough. We take crap from the earth faster than the earth takes it back. All we have to do is help it along. We need to break it down for the earth.
I propose that all garbage trucks come equipped with chipper/shredder type devices to break up the trash into small "bite-sized" chunks. Once the garbage is removed from the trucks it then needs to go into a machine that grinds it up even further. The bits can then be deposited in the earth. We need to start with the quarries and mines and other large holes we created in the earth. Fill them up first. Why pile the trash up when we have perfectly good holes from whence it originally came? I don't believe anyone is using these "holes" and most of them are dangerous or unused space anyway.
"What about the plastic?" you may ask (especially if you are a hippie earth-hugger of some sort) Well, what about the plastic? Sure it doesn't break down but it's ground up into really tiny bits. Remember? It's mixed in with all the other trash bits and even if it doesn't break down it will become a part of the earth. We might possibly be creating some sort of new soil but since nothing is being done with the mines and quarries and various holes, does it really matter? It will eventually pack itself down into some layer of the earth. From what I understand, plastic freely exchanges it molecules with other things that come in contact with it, so what it creates may end up being some sort of "super soil" with any luck.
I think my plan will work. After all, look at sand; it's just really tiny ground up bits of glass, right?
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