I don't have anything to say right now. But isn't that a cool post title?
Category archives for Huh?
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Monday, February 12, 2007
Randomness
I secretly want to visit the Los Angeles area and walk around until Jay Leno asks me something like, "Who's on the Supreme Court?" Then I'll tell him, "Roberts, Alito, Thomas, Ginsburg, Kennedy, Souter, Stevens, Scalia… and, uh… the ninth Justice, which I believe is the 'Mystery Justice.' " (I can never remember Breyer. I always have to look him up.)
Anyway, Leno will probably follow-up with several other questions with far more obvious answers in the hope that I'll say something like, "Uh, I think the capital of Texas is Sweden." Pfft. No way, man. You'll never catch me on Jaywalking. If he asks a question I can't answer I'll start to hump his leg or something.
Whenever I think of the Supreme Court, I always think of the Eagles. Justice David Souter always reminds me of J. D. Souther. On the VHS release of the Eagles' Hell Freezes Over concert, Don Henley mentions something about "co-written by our good friend J. D. Souther." That line drew a smattering of polite applause. Maybe two or three people in that packed amphitheater knew who J. D. Souther is and found him worthy of applause.
Before the Eagles become light hits superstars, Souther was like the sixth member of the band. He co-write a bunch of their songs, worked as a session player on some of their studio tracks and even played a few lives shows with the band. (I can't find any references, but I swear I read something like this years ago in the liner notes for Desperado.)
How much does that suck? The guy was a whisker's breadth away from being an icon. Now hardly anyone remembers him.
For a while I've been thinking about adding some kind of linkblog setup here. I've seen a few people who use something like "asides" or "mini-blogs" or whatnot. Some designs I liked, some I didn't. Well, I finally got around to setting up my own, which you can see on the front page.
The thing I like most about it right now is that it doesn't require any plugins, just a few template tweaks. I'm not sure I'm satisfied with the look right now, so I'll probably change it around a few times before I'm happy with it. One thing that's a little weird is that there's a bit of an optical illusion kind of thing happening. The color of the linkblog "bubbles" is the same as the color of the sidebar boxes, but the colors around both of them make them seem noticeably different. That one color seems much lighter in the sidebar than in the main column. Or maybe that's just me.
Tuesday, January 2, 2007
Dust
I hate how dusty it is here. Even inside the diner, everything looks hazy. Even the air feels dirty. I never feel clean anymore.
A waitress who looks barely out of high school eyes me as I sit down at the lunch counter. She waits until I've settled onto the stool to approach. Carafe in hand, she gives me a one word greeting.
"Coffee?"
"Please," I say.
She overturns a mug and fills it with the steamy liquid. She watches in silence as I add my cream and sugar. I love this part. Much more than the taste or the caffeine, I love the ritual of coffee. I pour a tiny little tub of non-dairy creamer into the mug. There's an explosion of white that seems to come from under the coffee. The color fades from near-black to milk chocolate. I tear off the end of a paper packet of sugar and stir as I add the sweet sand to the mug.
Finished with my preparations, I sip. It's hideous. The waitress is still staring so I lie by giving her an approving little smile.
"I am a connoisseur of album titles," she says.
"Are you now?"
"Easily the most interesting album title ever is Pete Townshend's All The Best Cowboys Have Chinese Eyes."
Its my turn to stare at her. We're silent for a moment as we look at each other.
"Yeah, that's a good one," I finally respond.
She stares a moment longer before placing a menu on the counter in front of me. She turns away without a word. I don't really understand it, but I think I was just tested, and I think I failed.
I hate how dusty it is here.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
2nd Grade Teacher
Time for an oddball picture? Yup, time for an oddball picture. I found this picture, confusingly titled "2nd grade teacher," when looking for something completely different. I think I just attract this stuff.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
A little from column A, a little from column B
So there's this song, right? "Wraith Pinned to The Mist and Other Games" by Of Montreal. I'm totally in love with this song. I want to have this song's children. I first found it through Pop Candy, which then led me to YouTube. Supposedly the song was sampled for an Outback Steakhouse commercial but I don't recall if I've ever seen that.
Music gives you mental images, right? You hear a song and you picture things in your mind. The mental image I get from this song has nothing to do with the cutesy cartoon video or the spectre of flame grilled streaks. I picture a pudgy, topless teenage girl chair dancing in front of a webcam while drinking mom and dad's liquor straight from the bottle. This is an unusually specific image, I know.
I think this image says one of two things:
-
The song sounds light and airy, which I associate with freedom. The vision of the girl as pudgy might mean that she feels she's less than desirable. The fact that she's a teen is probably an indicator of social taboo, as being topless on a webcam is definitely a no-no for someone underage. Same deal with mom and dad's liquor. And the dancing? Well, dancing is always about freedom and expression, right?
So one possible explanation is that to me the song feels like breaking free.
-
The other possible explanation is that I'm really fucking weird.
I won't rule out the possibility that it's a little of both.
Sunday, November 5, 2006
Ow. Ow. Ow.
ABC News reports yesterday in El Cerrito, California police arrested a naked man for carrying a concealed weapon. Let that sink in for a minute. Naked man… concealed weapon…
Ew!
A man was arrested on suspicion of carrying a concealed weapon after police found him outdoors naked and he told them he had a tool in his rectum, authorities said.
The story continues:
Officers drew their weapons and firefighters were called to the scene. Sheehan [the suspect] removed a 6-inch metal awl wrapped in black electrical tape without incident. [Emphasis mine]
A 6-inch metal awl. Up his ass. Holy fuckbuckets.
Friday, November 3, 2006
Sir Fish and the Angry Mushroom
Once upon a time, there lived a grand knight named Sir Pimpin' von Fish. Sir Fish, as he was known, dwelt in the United Kingdom of Sofa, TV and Beer.
One day, when Sir Fish returned to his castle after a day of herding bits, the Queen Regent, Her Royal Highness Bunny, came to Sir Fish with a request. The Queen said to Sir Fish, "I would dispatch you on a quest, brave knight. It is my wish that you should take the prince of the realm, Pants of Chicken, to the land of Health Club. I desire for him to swim, that he might have exercise and learn A Healthy Lifestyle. What say you, Sir Fish?"
Sir Fish did not think well of this idea. The United Kingdom of Sofa, TV and Beer has a sofa, a TV and beer, while the land of Health Club has none of these things. But Sir Fish desired above all things that the kingdom should be tranquil and harmonious and so he agreed to his queen's request.
After the evening feast of pizza, Sir Fish and Prince Chicken mounted their noble steed, which was known far and wide as Stratus of '99 Dodge, and journeyed to the far away land of Health Club. There Sir Fish and Prince Chicken swam in cool waters and played a local game known as "water basketball." Prince Chicken was well pleased and very contented. Sir Fish even made time to relax in the soothing hot spring of Whirlpool.
Before returning to their kingdom, Sir Fish and Prince Chicken washed themselves of the foul chemical "chlorine," for which Health Club is well known. It is customary that pilgrims to the land of Health Club should partake of such cleansing while disrobed and in a communal area. It is in this place that Sir Fish met the Angry Mushroom.
Sir Fish was washing his mighty armpit when he glanced at one of the other pilgrims and saw something both strange and ugly. Where his knightly staff should have been, this pilgrim instead had a mushroom, and an angry, menacing mushroom at that.
Sir Fish had heard of such things before. Tales of Angry Mushrooms, known to some as uncircumcised penises, were widespread. Sir Fish had never before seen an Angry Mushroom and had always wondered if perhaps they were merely legend. Sir Fish had no choice but to believe the stories now, for how could he deny what was before him?
The Angry Mushroom, peeking out of the tangled Black Bramble Forest, stared at Sir Fish. Sir Fish looked away. When he looked back again he found the Angry Mushroom still staring. Sir Fish weaved from side to side but the Angry Mushroom followed him with its Great Eye. Sir Fish was certain the Angry Mushroom was in some way challenging him. Sir Fish finished rinsing and scurried his noble ass on out of there.
Sir Fish and Prince Chicken dried themselves and donned their armor quickly. On their way to the stable, Sir Fish encountered the Angry Mushroom again. The Angry Mushroom was still staring at him. As they walked away, the Angry Mushroom winked at Sir Fish. "Hurry back, sailor," it seemed to say.
Sir Fish and Prince Chicken took to their steed and returned to the United Kingdom of Sofa, TV and Beer where, delightfully free of winking Angry Mushrooms, they lived happily ever after.
Friday, September 15, 2006
He's from the internet
You know the drill. Don't blame me if you're scarred.
More costumed mangina goodness can be found at Jay Maynard's tronguy.net
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Scattered observations from a very strange day
-
If ever you're looking to sell or give away a Pomeranian puppy, you may want to consider not magic markering your tiny little sign:
Puppy
Pombecause passing motorists such as myself may misread that as:
Puppy
PornSaid motorist may then briefly consider calling you out of morbid curiosity. Said motorist would be disgusted, yet completely entranced. This is assuming said motorist did not read again, realize his mistake and chuckle while mentally calling himself a retard.
-
The psycho burnt lung lady? Yeah, she's far more weird than she originally seemed.
Apparently her lungs are so sensitive that she was unable to use her shiny new laptop for a considerable amount of time. She says the new plastic was giving off an odor that kept her from breathing. So she left the laptop at a friend's house to air out for the better part of a year.
Whether there's any truth to that or not, she now has a laptop. Last Thursday she brought it by to discuss a problem. She made an appointment to return yesterday for service. Friday she stopped by to see if I could work on it early. I could not, so she stopped in yesterday for her scheduled appointment.
She was wearing the same clothes on those three consecutive business days.
-
Stopping by my house in the middle of the day because it's raining and The Bunny may need our only umbrella (conveniently located in the trunk of our car) may occasionally cause Bunny's head to explode.
Ok, it's probably not me bringing the umbrella that caused her head to explode, but goddamn did she have an impressive headache. I think I could actually see her skull pulsing.
-
On returning to my office, I got a good eyefull of the crazy burnt lung woman's car. I'm pretty sure she's living in it. Her blue Delta 88 was stuffed with a fantastic amount of objects. Piles of clothes, old newspapers, food and a lot of things that looked like plain old trash were crammed into every nook of the passenger compartment. There were even stacks of junk on the dashboard.
If she's living in her car, how important or relevant can her internet access really be? Wouldn't most people sell that laptop to scrape up some rent money? And wouldn't living in a rolling refrigerator box cause problems with dust, mold and a variety of other lung busters? When she talks about those lung problems, I think she's full of shit.
Oh, and lest I forget, I'm pretty sure she's crazy. I mean really crazy. Unbalanced. Unstable. Disturbed. Fucking nuts. When she finally stormed out of my office, angry that I was unable to produce a lunar eclipse on demand, I was thrilled by the thought that she's probably too unsatisfied to ever return.
-
A snippet:
The Chicken: Dad?
Me: Yeah?
Chicken: Did you ever shoot with that bow and arrow in the garage?
Me: Yeah, buddy, I used to shoot that bow all the time.
Chicken: Did you ever… target it at… shooting stuff?
Me: Yes, I've gone target shooting with that bow.
Chicken: Did you used to shoot targets a lot?
Me: Um… yeah, a fair amount.
Chicken: Was that your hobby?
Me: Yeah, I suppose it was a hobby.
(pause)
Me: What would you say is my hobby now, Chicken?
Chicken: Um… smoking?
Tuesday, September 5, 2006
Fuck Jerry's kids
Yeah, that's all I've got right now.