What is up with the spam blog comments?
My last post received 13 spam comments from some douchebag carpet cleaners. How do they know what my carpet looks like? How did they find out my housemate smashed his toe in the hallway and left bloodspots all over the floor and didn't even try to clean it up?
What I need is a housemate slapping service.
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Monday, November 28, 2005
put 'em in the stocks
From BBC World:
The top US court has rejected an appeal by a sentenced man, who argued about the legality of having to publicly wear a sign stating "I stole mail".
The Supreme Court turned down Shawn Gementera's appeal without any comment.
Gementera had argued that the measure would humiliate him, violating the Sentencing Reform Act and the constitutional ban on cruel punishment.
He pleaded guilty to mail theft after being held in 2001 for stealing letters from mailboxes in San Francisco.
In 2003, Gementera was sentenced by a district judge to two months in jail, to be followed by three years of supervised release.
The release conditions stated that Gementera must spend four days at a post office observing staff dealing with inquiries about lost or stolen mail, write letters of apology to the victims of his crime and give three lectures about his crime at schools.
The judge also ordered him to wear a signboard reading "I stole mail - this is my punishment" for a full eight-hour working day.
Gementera appealed about the latter requirement, but a US appeals court panel ruled against him earlier this year.
The court said in August that the record in Gementera's case showed the judge imposed the condition for the purpose of rehabilitation.
"Punishments aimed at imposing shame and humiliation are inconsistent with a constitutional requirement that punishments, even for heinous crimes, be consistent with human dignity," Gementera's lawyers were quoted by Reuters news agency when appealing to the Supreme Court.
The top US court has rejected an appeal by a sentenced man, who argued about the legality of having to publicly wear a sign stating "I stole mail".
The Supreme Court turned down Shawn Gementera's appeal without any comment.
Gementera had argued that the measure would humiliate him, violating the Sentencing Reform Act and the constitutional ban on cruel punishment.
He pleaded guilty to mail theft after being held in 2001 for stealing letters from mailboxes in San Francisco.
In 2003, Gementera was sentenced by a district judge to two months in jail, to be followed by three years of supervised release.
The release conditions stated that Gementera must spend four days at a post office observing staff dealing with inquiries about lost or stolen mail, write letters of apology to the victims of his crime and give three lectures about his crime at schools.
The judge also ordered him to wear a signboard reading "I stole mail - this is my punishment" for a full eight-hour working day.
Gementera appealed about the latter requirement, but a US appeals court panel ruled against him earlier this year.
The court said in August that the record in Gementera's case showed the judge imposed the condition for the purpose of rehabilitation.
"Punishments aimed at imposing shame and humiliation are inconsistent with a constitutional requirement that punishments, even for heinous crimes, be consistent with human dignity," Gementera's lawyers were quoted by Reuters news agency when appealing to the Supreme Court.
Sunday, November 13, 2005
back in sf
I arrived in SF last Tuesday and my initial reaction could be summed up by a phrase that I heard on at least two different occassions from Bruno, the notorious owner of the Persian Aub Zam Zam bar in the Haight. "San Francisco is a dirty little town."
After being overwhelmed by the sheer volume of people walking on the streets of nyc perhaps riding the bus down Market street and being disgusted by the percentage of viewable folks who were either indigent, drunk, wasted, mentally incapacitated or all of the above (I felt like I was in a Dorothea Lange photograph circa depression years or maybe Diane Arbus)was not a fair comparison.
ah well san francisco still rocks and I have no real complaints. Now I just have to find a job. oy vey.
A friend suggested doing extra work on movie and tv shows. They pay $70 for an eight hour day. Yeah, that'll cover my bills. They're filming Monk in the city this week and that's a show that I think it would be ok to be an extra on.
My friend says it's "not the kind of work you do for the money". I guess sitting around bored for hours watching people set up equipment is something you have to really love.
After being overwhelmed by the sheer volume of people walking on the streets of nyc perhaps riding the bus down Market street and being disgusted by the percentage of viewable folks who were either indigent, drunk, wasted, mentally incapacitated or all of the above (I felt like I was in a Dorothea Lange photograph circa depression years or maybe Diane Arbus)was not a fair comparison.
ah well san francisco still rocks and I have no real complaints. Now I just have to find a job. oy vey.
A friend suggested doing extra work on movie and tv shows. They pay $70 for an eight hour day. Yeah, that'll cover my bills. They're filming Monk in the city this week and that's a show that I think it would be ok to be an extra on.
My friend says it's "not the kind of work you do for the money". I guess sitting around bored for hours watching people set up equipment is something you have to really love.
Monday, October 17, 2005
Sunday, October 16, 2005
sag hahrbah
spent the last week house-sitting for a friend of a friend in the the small old whaling village cum swank ex hometown of spalding gray -Sag Harbor. The house was very nice, big, well stocked, big art studio with tons of supplies all of which I could use. did some painting but mostly enjoyed the wine cellar . she had a lot of australian wines. i drank some nice cabernets while watching the playoffs , it got a little boring though i have to admit. I felt like i was in exile somewhere like Elba . It rained the whole time I was there. they say Spalding tried to kill himself a few times by jumping off the sag harbor bridge...? he finally succeeded on the Staten Island ferry, I believe it was.
I'm staritng to get alittle stir crazy here in Jersey and am thinking of heading back to "Cali". The job I'm working on is sort of plodding along without an end in sight (like most jobs, eh)so I kinda want to finish it up and then maybe go up to New Hampshire to see the old homestead before going back to SF.
Back to square one
back to the drawing board
fucking A
Hey Napoleon did you wet the bed last night ?
Um yeah we're gonna have to go ahead and move you back to san francisco...
I'm staritng to get alittle stir crazy here in Jersey and am thinking of heading back to "Cali". The job I'm working on is sort of plodding along without an end in sight (like most jobs, eh)so I kinda want to finish it up and then maybe go up to New Hampshire to see the old homestead before going back to SF.
Back to square one
back to the drawing board
fucking A
Hey Napoleon did you wet the bed last night ?
Um yeah we're gonna have to go ahead and move you back to san francisco...
Sunday, September 25, 2005
new jersey etc.
Well, here I am in New Jersey...the garden state. no comment. Went to the statue of liberty last week and found out that since 9/11 you can't go up into the actual statue. How fitting that our liberties should be revoked at this poignant symbol of Liberte. Stupid french.
I was staying with my friend, Rene, at his loft in Jersey City and once again I was surprised at how only slightly gentrified it is. It's like, a 10 minute PATH train ride and you're in Manhattan. I guess the stigma of saying you live in "Jersey" keeps it free from new york snobbery. Rene has the whole top floor of his building and his rent is cheap, especially for "New York". Anyway, I stayed there a couple weeks and then they had a new roomate moving in so I hightailed it north to a little town called Leonia near the George Washington Bridge. A friend of mine from college has a big house here and I have installed myself in the basement and have found work with the estate of an artist who died not long ago. He worked in ceramics and did a lot of paintings, actually glaze on flat slabs of clay. So i have been cleaning the artworks and will start photographing, archiving, and then packing them for storage. It's pretty cool work and I can use the $.
I sublet my room in SF for the month of October so I have some time to kill here.
ah yes new york in the fall, chai tea, Jcrew sweaters, an endless river of Lexuses trying to get on the turnpike, It's lovely.
I was staying with my friend, Rene, at his loft in Jersey City and once again I was surprised at how only slightly gentrified it is. It's like, a 10 minute PATH train ride and you're in Manhattan. I guess the stigma of saying you live in "Jersey" keeps it free from new york snobbery. Rene has the whole top floor of his building and his rent is cheap, especially for "New York". Anyway, I stayed there a couple weeks and then they had a new roomate moving in so I hightailed it north to a little town called Leonia near the George Washington Bridge. A friend of mine from college has a big house here and I have installed myself in the basement and have found work with the estate of an artist who died not long ago. He worked in ceramics and did a lot of paintings, actually glaze on flat slabs of clay. So i have been cleaning the artworks and will start photographing, archiving, and then packing them for storage. It's pretty cool work and I can use the $.
I sublet my room in SF for the month of October so I have some time to kill here.
ah yes new york in the fall, chai tea, Jcrew sweaters, an endless river of Lexuses trying to get on the turnpike, It's lovely.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
french fried
Remember when I was living in Boise, Idaho? Umm, that was like a week ago. Well, anyway, back when I was living in Boise, Idaho I had a friend who was getting married in Portland. So a bunch of folks in Boise rented a "mini-van" and drove there for the festivities.
This is a photo of a french fry that looks like a joint. At the post-reception we lit it and as people walked by we would hand it to them and they would attempt to take a hit off it. Hmm sweet deep fat fryer kine bud-o-ricious. They would suck like crazy trying to get a hit and would then hand it back and thank us. We found this amusing. Of course the thing smelled not so good.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Then we'll cut up the Constitution and make yellow ribbons out of it.
From Democracy Now...
American Legion Declares War on Peace Movement
The organization the American Legion has voted at its national convention to target peace activists and the antiwar movement. The group boasts nearly 3 million members. The group's national commander called for an end to all "public protests" and what he called "media events" against the war, even though they are protected by the Bill of Rights. Thomas Cadmus told the convention "The American Legion will stand against anyone and any group that would demoralize our troops, or worse, endanger their lives by encouraging terrorists to continue their cowardly attacks against freedom-loving peoples. The delegates voted to use whatever means necessary to "ensure the united backing of the American people to support our troops and the global war on terrorism."
American Legion Declares War on Peace Movement
The organization the American Legion has voted at its national convention to target peace activists and the antiwar movement. The group boasts nearly 3 million members. The group's national commander called for an end to all "public protests" and what he called "media events" against the war, even though they are protected by the Bill of Rights. Thomas Cadmus told the convention "The American Legion will stand against anyone and any group that would demoralize our troops, or worse, endanger their lives by encouraging terrorists to continue their cowardly attacks against freedom-loving peoples. The delegates voted to use whatever means necessary to "ensure the united backing of the American people to support our troops and the global war on terrorism."
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Chaka's licking the carpet. She has to stay inside in the mornings because the mailman is all freaked out. I guess she growled at him. I probably would have also considering his Dufus shades and liederhoesen like back-support.
I'm blowing out of here...so long Boise. I actually like Boise. It's a nice little small town. It's quiet and yet they have some cool bars and it's beautiful up here. But my time has come. My foray into the the world of construction-remodeling has made me realize manual labor sucks. Breathing in plaster dust while hauling eighty pounds of broken tiles, plaster and wooden lathe on your back, doing it for seven hours and then doing the same thing again the next day and then the next, well, you get the idea. Sysiphus had the idea.
so, yes chaka is licking the carpet...I am trying to figure out how to get my shit back to san francisco even though I'm headed east. ups, us mail, uship.com?
A friend is driving East and I'm going to meet up with her in salt lake city and then we'll drive the little fiat to New Joysey. Oy gevalt!
I'm blowing out of here...so long Boise. I actually like Boise. It's a nice little small town. It's quiet and yet they have some cool bars and it's beautiful up here. But my time has come. My foray into the the world of construction-remodeling has made me realize manual labor sucks. Breathing in plaster dust while hauling eighty pounds of broken tiles, plaster and wooden lathe on your back, doing it for seven hours and then doing the same thing again the next day and then the next, well, you get the idea. Sysiphus had the idea.
so, yes chaka is licking the carpet...I am trying to figure out how to get my shit back to san francisco even though I'm headed east. ups, us mail, uship.com?
A friend is driving East and I'm going to meet up with her in salt lake city and then we'll drive the little fiat to New Joysey. Oy gevalt!
Saturday, August 20, 2005
mmm...smoke..good
Here in Boise...Wali took off to go camping and I came down with some bug. So I hauled my ass down to Blockbuster and rented Sideways and Sin city. Sideways was great and Sin City was better than I expected. I thought Mickey Rourke looked a little like the Beast from Jean Cocteau's Belle et Bette.
Also got The Bride of Frankenstein, M (by Fritz Lang),Amarcord, and A Bullet in the Head(john Woo).(from the library-much cheaper)
the BOF was great. I can't believe I never saw it. The monster starts drinking and smoking and then he wants a woman. He and Doctor Posterius(whatver) force Henry Frankenstein to create the monster's bride and when he does she is a twitchy freaky thing with great eyes who promptly rejects the monster. Classic James Whale.
M has a young peter Lorre as a murdering child molester in 1930's Berlin. Alot of the movie has an almost documentary feel as they indicate all the latest types of detective capabilites to track down this insane killer who is terrorizing the city. Shots of people analyzing handwriting(unfilled loops indicate an indolent, lazy type of character, such as an actor), tracking down types of paper used in candy stores, etc.
The scene where Lorre is put to trial by the criminals of the city(who captured him because the cops kept busting their hangouts and messing up their biz.)is excellent. Peter Lorre pulls out all the stops.
Amarcord is great. Memories of small town italy from the thirties as only Fellini can do it(although Woody Allen tried).One great scene is when the family goes on a horse carriage trip to the farm and on the way they pick up the uncle who is at the Institution. After lunch and a few glasses of wine the odd uncle climbs to the top of a tree and starts yelling "I WANT A WOMAN!" over and over and won't come down.
I can relate.
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Drink and Dial
A friend of mine called me and played back a message I had left him last Friday or early Saturday. I didn't remember calling him but when I heard the fitful starts and whining pejorativisms I painfully recalled making said call.
If there are any ohers out there to whom I may have rang up in my inebriated state please accept my, ah fuck it, consider yourself lucky.
I do remember get 86'ed from The Torch, a local strip club, but that's another story.
If there are any ohers out there to whom I may have rang up in my inebriated state please accept my, ah fuck it, consider yourself lucky.
I do remember get 86'ed from The Torch, a local strip club, but that's another story.
pope visits german homeland
When did we start using the term Homeland? After the events of 7-11? What a God-Awful way to refer to our country. It seems very germanic, nationalistic, fascist, and Orwellian.
We just got a T1 line here at the house of eternal re-modification, Boise division. So now I guess I'll have to get caught up on current events. Has Karl Rove been arrested yet? Ha-ha, That's a good one.
Oh and who gives a fuck about the shuttle?
Jeebus help me.
We just got a T1 line here at the house of eternal re-modification, Boise division. So now I guess I'll have to get caught up on current events. Has Karl Rove been arrested yet? Ha-ha, That's a good one.
Oh and who gives a fuck about the shuttle?
Jeebus help me.
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
ooh comments
I received two comments on my last brilliant post and was feeling pretty good about myself. These people seemed to enjoy my blog and they were going to tell their friends! Gosh. I guess I have just about the best blog I know.
Then I realized they were probably some sort of automatically generated comment that puts in a link to someone's commercial website. One was for ceiling fans. Side note: You can't cut off your head with a ceiling fan. Even if you use an upside down lawnmower with custom reinforced blades. they will give you a nasty whack but the force of the blades will push your head away thus impeding severance.
the other comment site was for something called life wave. some doo-hickus that gives you untold energy. Around here in Boise that's known as Methamphetamine.
Boo-yah!
Then I realized they were probably some sort of automatically generated comment that puts in a link to someone's commercial website. One was for ceiling fans. Side note: You can't cut off your head with a ceiling fan. Even if you use an upside down lawnmower with custom reinforced blades. they will give you a nasty whack but the force of the blades will push your head away thus impeding severance.
the other comment site was for something called life wave. some doo-hickus that gives you untold energy. Around here in Boise that's known as Methamphetamine.
Boo-yah!
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Library internet
So I discovered the internet terminals here in the Boise library where you can actually sit down. oh boy. Also you can use them for a whole hour. They have all the internets.
This not having a computer biz is starting to suck.
I must admit the people that work here at the library are amazingly helpful. At one point there were three people trying to help me track down a book. After twenty minutes they found it on a cart in the basement. Damn. In "Frisco" it would have been more like a shrug.
I love using the "Frisco". It really shakes folks up.
As you can tell things are pretty darn exciting here in Boise. But the weather is hot and excellent. Totally. Right now at my apartment in "Frisco" Its probably about fifty degrees with a wind chill factor that is rivalled by those living near Lake Huron.
Hmm.
Magwa kill the greybeard and all of his seed.
This not having a computer biz is starting to suck.
I must admit the people that work here at the library are amazingly helpful. At one point there were three people trying to help me track down a book. After twenty minutes they found it on a cart in the basement. Damn. In "Frisco" it would have been more like a shrug.
I love using the "Frisco". It really shakes folks up.
As you can tell things are pretty darn exciting here in Boise. But the weather is hot and excellent. Totally. Right now at my apartment in "Frisco" Its probably about fifty degrees with a wind chill factor that is rivalled by those living near Lake Huron.
Hmm.
Magwa kill the greybeard and all of his seed.
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
bbq-oise
Bill's barbecuing drunken chicken on the Char-Broil wearing his vintage celtics apron that mimics Larry Birds uniform circa 83? including short shorts. the mitt is a tiny basketball. the grissom t-shirt adds to the mayhem.
Sunday, July 31, 2005
Monday, July 18, 2005
Boise
Well here I am in Boise. I really don't feel like writing anything because I'm standing at the computer terminal in the the Boise Library. They don't provide chairs for people who use the internet computers. Why the hell not? You can use the internet for a half hour for free but I guess they don't want you to be comfortable while you do it.
There are some real hipster freaks here in Boise. Some dude surprised me while I was waiting for the light to change. I heard somebody say hey buddy and when I turned around this 65 year old long haired dude who was shaking and whose eyes were functioning independently of each other and his brain was about five inches from me.
"Hey .....man....canyousparesome........change?"
I thought he was going to stab me with a used syringe.
"Uh no, and back off."
So much for compassion on a daily basis.
Speaking of compassion the Dalai Lama is coming to Sun Valley and will be speaking for free. I saw the Dalai Lama at UC Santa Cruz in 1982(?). He was pretty cool and funny.
I also saw Buckminster Fuller speak at UCSC around the same time. He talked for at least six hours straight without stopping except to take a drink of water. It was pretty amazing. He started in about the origins of technology from the beginning of sailing and then just kept going.
Outside of Boise are three geodesic domes that house the Holy church of the Baptized Christ Child or some such mumbo jumbo...
There are some real hipster freaks here in Boise. Some dude surprised me while I was waiting for the light to change. I heard somebody say hey buddy and when I turned around this 65 year old long haired dude who was shaking and whose eyes were functioning independently of each other and his brain was about five inches from me.
"Hey .....man....canyousparesome........change?"
I thought he was going to stab me with a used syringe.
"Uh no, and back off."
So much for compassion on a daily basis.
Speaking of compassion the Dalai Lama is coming to Sun Valley and will be speaking for free. I saw the Dalai Lama at UC Santa Cruz in 1982(?). He was pretty cool and funny.
I also saw Buckminster Fuller speak at UCSC around the same time. He talked for at least six hours straight without stopping except to take a drink of water. It was pretty amazing. He started in about the origins of technology from the beginning of sailing and then just kept going.
Outside of Boise are three geodesic domes that house the Holy church of the Baptized Christ Child or some such mumbo jumbo...
Monday, June 27, 2005
Last Day in Vegas chapter seven
Ephraim Pai had a bad day. He played poker for eleven hours and ended up winning exactly 27 dollars. At one point he had been up over four hundred. He knew there was a spirit residing in the chair that he had been using and although he had replaced the chair he was almost sure the spirit had followed him. He knew how devious these spirits could be and he held them almost completely accountable for his string of bad luck. Of course the fact that he had tried to draw to an inside straight at least three times had nothing to do with it.
He put the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking spot. He had been playing poker at the home of one Charles Ignatz. He always wondered what kind of a name Ignatz was. German? Jewish? Czechslovakian? He didn't bother to ask because he thought Charles might be offended. Charles was a rather overweight balding gay man who wore loud tropical shirts, drank quantities of gin and tonic and smoked salem 100's while they played cards. Ephraim didn't drink or smoke but neither bothered him. He could play cards in the middle of a blizzard sitting on a block of ice.
He knew his wife would not be happy with him if he told her how much he made so he had stopped telling her. She had an income from her family that they used for for all the bills and if Ephraim didn't ask her for money he wouldn't hear any grief. His wife was a strange bird who was pretty easy going and usually seemed happy although she didn't talk much and spent most of her time reading books that Ephraim had never heard of. Ephraim didn't read much. He watched some tv but most of the time he was playing poker or looking for a game. He had quite a few friends who regularly hosted poker games and Ephraim would sometimes drive two hundreds miles for a good game.
He pulled into the driveway of his house and his wife and son were standing on the front lawn.
"Look what Johnnie found."
His wife held up a one hundred dollar bill.
He put the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking spot. He had been playing poker at the home of one Charles Ignatz. He always wondered what kind of a name Ignatz was. German? Jewish? Czechslovakian? He didn't bother to ask because he thought Charles might be offended. Charles was a rather overweight balding gay man who wore loud tropical shirts, drank quantities of gin and tonic and smoked salem 100's while they played cards. Ephraim didn't drink or smoke but neither bothered him. He could play cards in the middle of a blizzard sitting on a block of ice.
He knew his wife would not be happy with him if he told her how much he made so he had stopped telling her. She had an income from her family that they used for for all the bills and if Ephraim didn't ask her for money he wouldn't hear any grief. His wife was a strange bird who was pretty easy going and usually seemed happy although she didn't talk much and spent most of her time reading books that Ephraim had never heard of. Ephraim didn't read much. He watched some tv but most of the time he was playing poker or looking for a game. He had quite a few friends who regularly hosted poker games and Ephraim would sometimes drive two hundreds miles for a good game.
He pulled into the driveway of his house and his wife and son were standing on the front lawn.
"Look what Johnnie found."
His wife held up a one hundred dollar bill.
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
Mega Million Fever
from sf gate:
-- If you knew one person in Canada, and you had to draw at random one name out of a hat containing the names of every person in Canada, you would be 5.7 times more likely to draw your friend's name than hit the Mega Millions jackpot.
Source: Mike Orkin, Ph.D., managing scientist at Exponent Corp., statistics professor at California State University East Bay
-- If you knew one person in Canada, and you had to draw at random one name out of a hat containing the names of every person in Canada, you would be 5.7 times more likely to draw your friend's name than hit the Mega Millions jackpot.
Source: Mike Orkin, Ph.D., managing scientist at Exponent Corp., statistics professor at California State University East Bay
Monday, June 20, 2005
happy father's day
My dad, living it up in Puerto Vallarta. At father's day yesterday out in Livermore he paid my nephew Alec $1 for each fly he killed(in the house). Alec made $12, although three of them were from a spider web.
The Source
JABBERWOCKY
Lewis Carroll
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Lewis Carroll
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Downing st. memos..ho hum..
Why is it that the mainstream media here in the U.S. have been treating the Downing Street memos as some kind of quirky European boo-boo? Oh... Ho hum, those silly Brits with their snooty sense of propriety about International Law.
When I did see an article in the U.S. press the emphasis was on the fact that we knew we didn't have an exit strategy instead of the real story which is that the whole entry strategy was a calculated, cynical, unlawful, unconstitutional manipulation of "Intelligience" to justify and scare the public into accepting a pre-determined agenda to invade a country that posed no real threat to the United States.
Is the whole Ho -hum quality to the non-reporting of this story because it's pretty much old news? Didn't we already know that Bush and his pack of lying cronies did everything they could to sell us on this debacle? How many different reasons were given by the Bush administration to justify the war...something like 34?
Don't we already know that we were screwed and are still getting screwed?
To the tune of how many billions?
And instead of having this stupid war to consume our minds, money, and energy, what could we have done as a nation in the meantime?
Healthcare? Shore up Soc. Security? Gain real intelligience about how to identify and reduce the possibilites for terrorist action in the future?
ho hum, ho hum.
When I did see an article in the U.S. press the emphasis was on the fact that we knew we didn't have an exit strategy instead of the real story which is that the whole entry strategy was a calculated, cynical, unlawful, unconstitutional manipulation of "Intelligience" to justify and scare the public into accepting a pre-determined agenda to invade a country that posed no real threat to the United States.
Is the whole Ho -hum quality to the non-reporting of this story because it's pretty much old news? Didn't we already know that Bush and his pack of lying cronies did everything they could to sell us on this debacle? How many different reasons were given by the Bush administration to justify the war...something like 34?
Don't we already know that we were screwed and are still getting screwed?
To the tune of how many billions?
And instead of having this stupid war to consume our minds, money, and energy, what could we have done as a nation in the meantime?
Healthcare? Shore up Soc. Security? Gain real intelligience about how to identify and reduce the possibilites for terrorist action in the future?
ho hum, ho hum.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
Last Day in Vegas chapter six
On his twelfth birthday Johnnie decided it was time to spend some of his ill-gotten gain. He had waited for three years thinking that the authorities and/or the family of Richie Patterson would probably catch up to him. He realized they probably didn't know the value of the baseball cards and so were oblivious to their financial loss and he had counted on the fact that since Richie was not allowed to play with even toy guns he would probably not tell his mother that he had traded the cards for a broken pellet rifle.
Johnnie had hidden the money inside the wall behind the bathtub. He had double-bagged it and when he retrieved it he found it was still in good condition. He still hadn't come up with a plan of what to do with the money. He knew that if he started buying things his naturally suspicious father would wonder where he was getting the money and would probably assume that johnnie was shoplifting.
Johnnie decided what he needed was a lawyer. Someone who could invest the money for him, create an account for him, like a trust, and wouldn't tell his parents. He assumed that this would not be an easy thing to do for he sensed that most lawyers didn't have time for crazy kids and their ill-gotten booty. He needed someone who was slightly crooked themselves but not crooked enough to want to face the spectre of being known as the lawyer who had fleeced a twelve year old asian kid.
Johnnie got the yellow pages down from the shelf in the kitchen. He started thumbing through the pages and found the section on lawyers. Some of them had big ads. Johnnie knew his man would not have a big ad. He started reading the names that were listed with just an address and phone number. Most of the lawyers were located downtown, near the Capitol, or in the industrial park area. He was looking for someone in an out-of-the-way location.
He came upon a name. Richard Zellmer. 116 Farthing street.
"Farting street" Johnnie said aloud. "That's got to be my man."
Johnnie knew Farthing street was adjacent to the railroad tracks on what was known as the poor part of town. Johnnie tried not to ride his bike around down there because he had been chased and had rocks thrown at him by name-calling local kids.
They had called him gook-boy and chinaman. There weren't too many asians in Austin in those days and even though it was fairly liberal for Texas it was still redneck country.
Johnnie went back into his room and took the bagged money back to the bathroom and stowed it away again. Then he thought about it and pulled out two one hundred dollar bills. He packed up the rest and pushed it into the wall behind the tub. He put the money in his sock, re-tied his shoe, got his bike from the backyard and headed off into the hot Austin summer afternoon.
Zellmer's office was on the second floor of what looked like an old run-down condominium of the stucco variety. The r at the end of his name had fallen off or been pried off so the sign said Richard Zellme Attorney at Law.
'Buy and Zell me' Johnnie thought to himself.
When he got to the door it seemed more like an apartment than an office and Johnnie could hear a television from behind the door. He wasn't sure if he should just go in or ring the bell. He rang the doorbell.
He could hear someone moving around inside and then a voice.
"Hold on, I'll be right there."
More sounds of things being pushed around as if Zellmer was frantically cleaning up in expectation of a big client.
Finally the door opened and a man who looked like he had just woken up from a three day binge opened the door. His hair was greasy and pushed back. He needed a shave desperately. His shirt was wrinkled and had what looked like spaghetti sauce splattered on it. Johnnie thought for a second that it might be blood and then he realized if it was blood it would be probably be brown.
"What do you want?"
Zellmer's professionalism didn't seem to extend to a twelve year old asian kid wearing a Texas Longhorns baseball hat.
Johhnie was a bit taken aback. He was starting to rethink his plan. The new plan was to get the fuck out of there as soon as possible.
"Well, what do you want? Ya little fuck."
Now Johnnie was pissed. He didn't give a crap for this low life but he realized he probably wouldn't find anyone more suitable for what he had in mind.
Johnnie bent down and pulled one of the hundred dollar bills from his sock.
"Are you Richard Zell-me, the lawyer?"
Zellmer looked irritated.
"Zellmer. Yes, I am a lawyer. What do you want?"
Johnnie waved the hundred dollar bill in front of Zellmer's bloodshot eyes.
"Want to make some cash?"
Zellmer's eyes widened. This was a first for him. Most of his clients were small-time divorce cases, petty criminal defense cases, or boring procedural trust issues.
"What's the deal?"
"May I come in?" Johnnie decided to play it cool. He wanted to handle himself like James Garner from the Rockford files.
"Yeah, yeah. Come on in." Zellmer opened the door.
Johnnie walked in and took a look around the room. Empty pizza boxes were strewn about haphazardly. The coffee table was covered with empty beer bottles and a spilled ashtray. There was a small mirror on the table with smudges on it. Around the room papers and boxes of more papers were strewn about as if someone had been rifling through them looking for something. The carpet was shit-green and most of the furniture looked like it had come from the Knights of Templar thrift store down the street. A large color TV was on with the sound down and Gene Rayburn was silently presiding over the Matchgame 74 crew. Charles Nelson Reilly looked like he was having a good time.
"Nice place you've got here." Johnnie remarked snidely.
"Ok wise-guy, what's the deal? Where did you get the C-note?"
Johnnie stopped and thought for a second.
"It's not important where I got it. I just want to know if I can hire you to do something for me."
"What's that? What is it you want done and let me tell you I don't do too much for a hundred bucks."
"I've got more. That's the problem. I came into some cash and I can't let my parents know about it. My father's got a gambling problem and I want to keep it away from him. I want you to set up an account for me so I can buy stocks and stuff. I'll pay you two thousand dollars to set it up. But I want it all done with receipts, notarized, the whole deal."
"Two thousand bucks. That's not bad. How much money do you have kid?"
"I want to invest ten thousand dollars."
Zellmer stood there and thought about it.
"Okay, let me do some research and I'll see what I can do. When can you get me the two thousand?"
"Here's a hundred bucks. I'll give you the rest when I see the papers and have made sure the account is for real."
Johhnie held out the the bill. Zellmer snatched it from his hand and held it up to the light.
"Okay kid. Come back on Wednesday and I'll let you know what I've come up with."
Johnnie left, got on his bike and rode home. Before he got home he took out the other hundred dollar bill and when he walked in the door he started yelling.
"Mom, mom! Look what I found! A hundred dollar bill! On my birthday!"
Johnnie's mother Su Han Yan Gow put down her copy of Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead and stared with her mouth open at the hundred dollar bill.
Johnnie had hidden the money inside the wall behind the bathtub. He had double-bagged it and when he retrieved it he found it was still in good condition. He still hadn't come up with a plan of what to do with the money. He knew that if he started buying things his naturally suspicious father would wonder where he was getting the money and would probably assume that johnnie was shoplifting.
Johnnie decided what he needed was a lawyer. Someone who could invest the money for him, create an account for him, like a trust, and wouldn't tell his parents. He assumed that this would not be an easy thing to do for he sensed that most lawyers didn't have time for crazy kids and their ill-gotten booty. He needed someone who was slightly crooked themselves but not crooked enough to want to face the spectre of being known as the lawyer who had fleeced a twelve year old asian kid.
Johnnie got the yellow pages down from the shelf in the kitchen. He started thumbing through the pages and found the section on lawyers. Some of them had big ads. Johnnie knew his man would not have a big ad. He started reading the names that were listed with just an address and phone number. Most of the lawyers were located downtown, near the Capitol, or in the industrial park area. He was looking for someone in an out-of-the-way location.
He came upon a name. Richard Zellmer. 116 Farthing street.
"Farting street" Johnnie said aloud. "That's got to be my man."
Johnnie knew Farthing street was adjacent to the railroad tracks on what was known as the poor part of town. Johnnie tried not to ride his bike around down there because he had been chased and had rocks thrown at him by name-calling local kids.
They had called him gook-boy and chinaman. There weren't too many asians in Austin in those days and even though it was fairly liberal for Texas it was still redneck country.
Johnnie went back into his room and took the bagged money back to the bathroom and stowed it away again. Then he thought about it and pulled out two one hundred dollar bills. He packed up the rest and pushed it into the wall behind the tub. He put the money in his sock, re-tied his shoe, got his bike from the backyard and headed off into the hot Austin summer afternoon.
Zellmer's office was on the second floor of what looked like an old run-down condominium of the stucco variety. The r at the end of his name had fallen off or been pried off so the sign said Richard Zellme Attorney at Law.
'Buy and Zell me' Johnnie thought to himself.
When he got to the door it seemed more like an apartment than an office and Johnnie could hear a television from behind the door. He wasn't sure if he should just go in or ring the bell. He rang the doorbell.
He could hear someone moving around inside and then a voice.
"Hold on, I'll be right there."
More sounds of things being pushed around as if Zellmer was frantically cleaning up in expectation of a big client.
Finally the door opened and a man who looked like he had just woken up from a three day binge opened the door. His hair was greasy and pushed back. He needed a shave desperately. His shirt was wrinkled and had what looked like spaghetti sauce splattered on it. Johnnie thought for a second that it might be blood and then he realized if it was blood it would be probably be brown.
"What do you want?"
Zellmer's professionalism didn't seem to extend to a twelve year old asian kid wearing a Texas Longhorns baseball hat.
Johhnie was a bit taken aback. He was starting to rethink his plan. The new plan was to get the fuck out of there as soon as possible.
"Well, what do you want? Ya little fuck."
Now Johnnie was pissed. He didn't give a crap for this low life but he realized he probably wouldn't find anyone more suitable for what he had in mind.
Johnnie bent down and pulled one of the hundred dollar bills from his sock.
"Are you Richard Zell-me, the lawyer?"
Zellmer looked irritated.
"Zellmer. Yes, I am a lawyer. What do you want?"
Johnnie waved the hundred dollar bill in front of Zellmer's bloodshot eyes.
"Want to make some cash?"
Zellmer's eyes widened. This was a first for him. Most of his clients were small-time divorce cases, petty criminal defense cases, or boring procedural trust issues.
"What's the deal?"
"May I come in?" Johnnie decided to play it cool. He wanted to handle himself like James Garner from the Rockford files.
"Yeah, yeah. Come on in." Zellmer opened the door.
Johnnie walked in and took a look around the room. Empty pizza boxes were strewn about haphazardly. The coffee table was covered with empty beer bottles and a spilled ashtray. There was a small mirror on the table with smudges on it. Around the room papers and boxes of more papers were strewn about as if someone had been rifling through them looking for something. The carpet was shit-green and most of the furniture looked like it had come from the Knights of Templar thrift store down the street. A large color TV was on with the sound down and Gene Rayburn was silently presiding over the Matchgame 74 crew. Charles Nelson Reilly looked like he was having a good time.
"Nice place you've got here." Johnnie remarked snidely.
"Ok wise-guy, what's the deal? Where did you get the C-note?"
Johnnie stopped and thought for a second.
"It's not important where I got it. I just want to know if I can hire you to do something for me."
"What's that? What is it you want done and let me tell you I don't do too much for a hundred bucks."
"I've got more. That's the problem. I came into some cash and I can't let my parents know about it. My father's got a gambling problem and I want to keep it away from him. I want you to set up an account for me so I can buy stocks and stuff. I'll pay you two thousand dollars to set it up. But I want it all done with receipts, notarized, the whole deal."
"Two thousand bucks. That's not bad. How much money do you have kid?"
"I want to invest ten thousand dollars."
Zellmer stood there and thought about it.
"Okay, let me do some research and I'll see what I can do. When can you get me the two thousand?"
"Here's a hundred bucks. I'll give you the rest when I see the papers and have made sure the account is for real."
Johhnie held out the the bill. Zellmer snatched it from his hand and held it up to the light.
"Okay kid. Come back on Wednesday and I'll let you know what I've come up with."
Johnnie left, got on his bike and rode home. Before he got home he took out the other hundred dollar bill and when he walked in the door he started yelling.
"Mom, mom! Look what I found! A hundred dollar bill! On my birthday!"
Johnnie's mother Su Han Yan Gow put down her copy of Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead and stared with her mouth open at the hundred dollar bill.
Idaho?
I remember being in Idaho back in the sixties when I was kid. I'm not sure what we doing there. Maybe we were on some family vacation in our red squareback VW or perhaps when we were moving to California from New Hampshire. All I remember is being in Sun Valley, Idaho, which is a big ski resort, in the middle of the summer and it was hot. I remember being in a hotel or restaurant, someplace kind of nice, but they had what looked like aluminum foil in these neat square panels on the walls and people had pressed or scratched their names and initials all over the walls. I thought it was the coolest thing.
That's all I remember of Idaho.
That's all I remember of Idaho.
Monday, June 06, 2005
Last Day in Vegas chapter five
It was a green vinyl handbag with a long thin strap. He lifted it up and set it between his legs as he drove. He pulled out a leather wallet and opened it. Her California drivers license said her name was Eleanor Susan Capwell. 168 Morning Dew Lane, Capitola CA. Eyes green hair brown 5'9" 137 lbs. DOB 6/12/1965.
She had 43 dollars in her wallet and several credit cards. Inside the purse was also the nickel plated .38 as well as several lipstick cases, a compact, an hotel key for room 569 at the Belaggio, a pack of spearmint gum, a pack of unfiltered Camel cigarettes, a shiny lighter that looked expensive, and a tattered paperback copy of Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness.
'Hmm' Johnnie thought to himself. ' A literary psycho'.
'Or a literary hit-woman. No, she was no hit-woman. That was obvious. She had said her gun was named revenge and she meant it. But what had he ever done to her? He didn't remember her but that didn't mean much. There were countless times Johnnie had been told of things that he had done that he had no recollection of the next day. Perhaps this was one of those cases. Had he slept with the woman and not called her the next day? He had known women who had freaked out about that but being killed for it seemed a bit excessive. No, it had to be something bigger than that. Money? Did he steal her money? Did he shame her in some unforgivable way. 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.' He thought. 'Had he "scorned" her'?
He pulled one of the Camels from the pack and lighted it with the expensive looking lighter. He had cheated death once today, a few more cigarettes couldn't hurt.
What it was he had done to this woman to drive her crazy he would have to figure out because she probably wouldn't quit now.
He thought about going to the police but he knew they would be no help. After countless run-ins with the local police Johnnie had a bit of a reputation as a ne'er-do-well. They would be happy to see him gone. They might even consider helping her. No, he was going to have to deal with this crazy lady himself. Perhaps now that he knew who she was he could scare her off. Then he remembered the gleam in her eye as she had said 'Revenge' and he wasn't so sure.
She had 43 dollars in her wallet and several credit cards. Inside the purse was also the nickel plated .38 as well as several lipstick cases, a compact, an hotel key for room 569 at the Belaggio, a pack of spearmint gum, a pack of unfiltered Camel cigarettes, a shiny lighter that looked expensive, and a tattered paperback copy of Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness.
'Hmm' Johnnie thought to himself. ' A literary psycho'.
'Or a literary hit-woman. No, she was no hit-woman. That was obvious. She had said her gun was named revenge and she meant it. But what had he ever done to her? He didn't remember her but that didn't mean much. There were countless times Johnnie had been told of things that he had done that he had no recollection of the next day. Perhaps this was one of those cases. Had he slept with the woman and not called her the next day? He had known women who had freaked out about that but being killed for it seemed a bit excessive. No, it had to be something bigger than that. Money? Did he steal her money? Did he shame her in some unforgivable way. 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.' He thought. 'Had he "scorned" her'?
He pulled one of the Camels from the pack and lighted it with the expensive looking lighter. He had cheated death once today, a few more cigarettes couldn't hurt.
What it was he had done to this woman to drive her crazy he would have to figure out because she probably wouldn't quit now.
He thought about going to the police but he knew they would be no help. After countless run-ins with the local police Johnnie had a bit of a reputation as a ne'er-do-well. They would be happy to see him gone. They might even consider helping her. No, he was going to have to deal with this crazy lady himself. Perhaps now that he knew who she was he could scare her off. Then he remembered the gleam in her eye as she had said 'Revenge' and he wasn't so sure.
Saturday, June 04, 2005
Baseball in the Big House
Today was the day. Off to prison. No, not like that, or for that, should i say. A guy that occasionally plays with my pickup hardball team hooked us up with a woman who organizes baseball teams to play against the San Quentin Giants. We sent them our driver's license #'s and Soc. Security #'s and passed the screening process and today at 8 am we showed up at San Quentin. On the drive over the prison jokes were never ending. After waiting around for awhile at the entrance we went through two checkpoints and then walked through the main courtyard, around a building, and POW we were in the yard. I think most of us had assumed that we would be separated from the general populace by some kind of barrier but no, we were right there walking through the inmates.
They have a field that the inmates built that covers about half of "the yard" and it's pretty nice although the infield has no grass. It was a beautiful day and there were lots of guys out in the yard. Most of them wearing their prison blues but a lot of them had their shirts off sporting a variety of tattoos. One that stood out was a guy who had Co Co County across his stomach(Contra Costa County). They didn't really look all that scary which might be misleading.
Charley Manson used to be at San Quentin and it was said that he used to run out onto the field while they were playing. I would have liked to have seen that.
In addition to the ball field there is a basketball court, horseshoes, and even a tennis court. There was a doubles match going on and one guy was wearing tennis whites. Probably a white collar criminal who somehow didn't make it into the country club correctional facility.
There was also a large bandstand with instruments already set up. The band hadn't started yet and the sound system was blasting the Allman Bros. song "In Memory Of Elizabeth Reed". I didn't ask how she died.
I think we were a little nervous.
We were only allowed to bring our baseball stuff, no cameras, phones, street clothes, etc. Cigarettes are okay but only for another three weeks and then they become "contraband".
We got our cleats on and took some infield. I immediately let a ball go through my legs and Aaron, who was trading off with me at shortstop said to be careful 'cause I was showing weakness.
I wasn't really that nervous...what was the worse that could happen? A shiv in the kidney? hmm.
The game started. Their pitcher was called Stretch for obvious reasons. He was about 6'6" and built like a rail. He had a pretty quick fastball and a hard late breaking curve.
First inning was scoreless 3 up 3 down on both sides.
Top of the second we got a bit of a rally going and scored 3 runs to take the lead on some hard won hits. We had eighteen guys (which was too many) and everybody was batting. I batted tenth and at my first at bat I sat on his curve and whacked one down the third base line. Unfortunately the third baseman made a fine play and I was thrown out. But I felt okay with that and at the bottom of the second went out to play shortstop.
Of course the first batter would hit to me. I fielded it cleanly and threw him out at first. Yes. My first put out in prison. Sweet.
The next guy up for them ropes one to right center that bounces over the barbwire topped chain link fence. Ground rule double. As he pulls up at second I say, Hey, nice hit. He doesn't even look at me.
Okey dokey.
After that was a bit of mayhem as they scored 6 runs and got our our pitcher fairly rattled. He isn't one of our regular guys and since he had organized the event he had started himself as pitcher. He definitely would not have been any of our guys first choice. After the inning ended he said he wanted to throw one more inning and was pretty much told to hand the ball over to someone else. It didn't really matter though, they ended up scoring eighteen runs total to our four. Aaron, the other shorstop, hit one over the right field fence for a home run which was our only other run in the game.
I got up again in the sixth and got a base hit over the shortstops head. We ended up only getting six hits and I think, the official tally on our errors was also six, but I think we definitely had more than that.
During the game some of the inmates came up and chatted with us though the fence near the dugout. They were good guys and were giving us shit. They particularly liked Brian and got on us when he was pitching and we made some errors. Of course Brian had dropped two easy fly balls when he was playing centerfield but they didn't mention that.
The inmates could walk all around the yard and even stand or sit at the edge of the outfield against the fence. There were a bunch of guys out there and the rule was it if it hit them it was a ground rule double. In about the eighth inning a guy was sitting out there and he had a giant silver belt buckle that was reflecting the sun right into the batters eyes. He was totally oblivious and the home plate umpire had to yell out to him to cover it up.
At a couple times during the game suddenly all the inmates would freeze and get down on one knee. It was kind of eery. When there is an emergency the guards ring a bell and all the inamtes have to get down and freeze so the guards can see what is happening. We were told to remain standing. Then they would sound the all clear and everything would go back to normal. It happened twice while we were there and no one on our team heard the warning bell. All of a sudden the players would get down and we would realize the bell must have gone off.
It was a good game, we had fun and afterwards we lined up to shake the opposing teams hands and they all seemed like nice guys who were appreciative of us for coming out to play them.
We have plans to go back and play them again. Hopefully with the jitters gone and a trimmed down team we can be a little more competitive. I'll definitely go back-I'm batting .500 in the Prison League.
Sunday, May 29, 2005
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
speechless? more like dumbfounded.
Presley's ex-wife PRISCILLA writes in new book ELVIS, BY THE PRESLEYS, "He had a million badges and a blue police light on his car.
"He liked nothing more than putting that light on his car and pulling people over. He'd walk up to the window, show off his official badge and say, 'Son, you were speeding. Just want to warn you to slow down.'
"The driver would see him and remain speechless. He liked seeing himself as a lawmaker and protector of the public. He carried guns, and if he happened to see, for instance, two men fighting at a gas station, he'd drive over and stop the fight. His very presence stopped things escalating."
"He liked nothing more than putting that light on his car and pulling people over. He'd walk up to the window, show off his official badge and say, 'Son, you were speeding. Just want to warn you to slow down.'
"The driver would see him and remain speechless. He liked seeing himself as a lawmaker and protector of the public. He carried guns, and if he happened to see, for instance, two men fighting at a gas station, he'd drive over and stop the fight. His very presence stopped things escalating."
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
more photos
Unfortunately the link button cannot be created in blogger using netscape on my mac but if you want to see more vegas photos type
http://community.webshots.com/user/douglasnorris/
into your browser...
Monday, May 23, 2005
Friday, May 20, 2005
Last Day In Vegas chapter four
Johnnie's parents had never bothered to get married. There had been some debate about which religious ceremony they were going to observe for the nuptials. Ephraim Pai had decided that an Animist wedding was the most spiritually binding, but unfortunately they could find no one in the greater Cleveland area to administer the rather obtuse rites. Su Han Yan Gow was a Buddhist or had been until she read Jean Paul Sartre's book Being and Nothingness and realized that Sartre was probably on drugs. Why this had effected her belief in the Buddha no one was quite sure. Her family thought it best not to probe too deeply and so the marriage had been postponed and further postponed and eventually forgotten.
Johnnie had changed his name at age eighteen to include his mothers name because he had become tired of the jokes about his last name.
"Hey Johnnie Apple Pie howsabout some whip cream?"
He also thought it was too much of a crazy coincidence that his parents names together would be the same as the famous poker game. This coincidence may have had some effect on Johnnies future profession.
Johnnie had changed his name at age eighteen to include his mothers name because he had become tired of the jokes about his last name.
"Hey Johnnie Apple Pie howsabout some whip cream?"
He also thought it was too much of a crazy coincidence that his parents names together would be the same as the famous poker game. This coincidence may have had some effect on Johnnies future profession.
Last Day In Vegas chapter Three
The shovel bit into hard earth like an old man with dentures trying to eat a Granny Smith apple. It didn't make matters any better that she was wearing three inch stiletto heels. After scraping off the top layer of sand she was basically digging into solid rock.
"FUCK!"
It didn't really matter though because the person she shot wasn't dead or even near dead. He was just in a lot of pain. In fact he was quite conscious and moaning.
"Why the fuck did you shoot me? I suppose you're going to kill me with that shovel and then bury me out here? Didn't you think to see if there were any bullets in the gun before before you decided to come and kill me. Goddamn, you are a stupid bitch."
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" She screamed and started to walk towards the car.
When she shot him in the parking lot she had been a bit nervous and although Johnnie Pai-Gow was a rather wide target she had, with the first shot, only managed to graze him. After that the gun just went click click click. There had been one bullet in the chamber but the clip was empty. Johnnie had a rather low tolerance for pain and had fainted after the first shot. She had pushed his unconscious body into the passenger seat and had jumped into the car and driven him to this remote spot where she figured she would bury him dead or alive.
Johnnie realized he was in no condition to deal with an insane woman carrying a shovel. Inexplicably she had left the keys in the ignition.
They both realized this at the same time.
Johnnie started the car and shoved it into gear as the woman started running towards him holding the shovel like a lacrosse stick.
He popped the clutch and sand and gravel shot towards her as he pulled away. She held the shovel up with one arm and launched it at him like a javelin. It careened off the top of his head as he pulled away.
"FUCK" he screamed as the pain shot through his brain. He pulled on to the asphalt and kept going. Blood was dripping down the side of his head but the adrenaline was keeping him conscious. He thought of going back to try and run her over but he figured she would have it tough getting back to town as they were probably forty or fifty miles from anything and night was coming on. Also he wanted to find out who she was and what he had done to make her want to kill him.
He opened the glove compartment and pulled out his flask and a bottle of aspirin. He sipped the whiskey as he drove into the setting sun. Then he noticed her purse laying on the floor by his feet.
"FUCK!"
It didn't really matter though because the person she shot wasn't dead or even near dead. He was just in a lot of pain. In fact he was quite conscious and moaning.
"Why the fuck did you shoot me? I suppose you're going to kill me with that shovel and then bury me out here? Didn't you think to see if there were any bullets in the gun before before you decided to come and kill me. Goddamn, you are a stupid bitch."
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" She screamed and started to walk towards the car.
When she shot him in the parking lot she had been a bit nervous and although Johnnie Pai-Gow was a rather wide target she had, with the first shot, only managed to graze him. After that the gun just went click click click. There had been one bullet in the chamber but the clip was empty. Johnnie had a rather low tolerance for pain and had fainted after the first shot. She had pushed his unconscious body into the passenger seat and had jumped into the car and driven him to this remote spot where she figured she would bury him dead or alive.
Johnnie realized he was in no condition to deal with an insane woman carrying a shovel. Inexplicably she had left the keys in the ignition.
They both realized this at the same time.
Johnnie started the car and shoved it into gear as the woman started running towards him holding the shovel like a lacrosse stick.
He popped the clutch and sand and gravel shot towards her as he pulled away. She held the shovel up with one arm and launched it at him like a javelin. It careened off the top of his head as he pulled away.
"FUCK" he screamed as the pain shot through his brain. He pulled on to the asphalt and kept going. Blood was dripping down the side of his head but the adrenaline was keeping him conscious. He thought of going back to try and run her over but he figured she would have it tough getting back to town as they were probably forty or fifty miles from anything and night was coming on. Also he wanted to find out who she was and what he had done to make her want to kill him.
He opened the glove compartment and pulled out his flask and a bottle of aspirin. He sipped the whiskey as he drove into the setting sun. Then he noticed her purse laying on the floor by his feet.
Thursday, May 19, 2005
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
canape of fog
Ah yes cool, wet, San Francisco. It must be getting close to summer because it's getting colder out. Sometimes I think I should move out of this city. It seems like it creates a fog of a different nature, one that works its way into your head, whispering, this is the only place to live, all those other places, while they may be good, aren't San Francisco and don't you always feel better when you get back?
And I have to agree.
But there are those times, in the summer, when the whole of California, nay, the whole country(with the exception of a few kindred ecosystems like monterey), is basking in warmth, barbecuing in tight little shorts, swimming in cool bodies of water, while we in SF are up to our tits in fog, freezing our asses off as the wind whips through the city, rattling windows and creating sweatshirt sales at Fishermans Wharf, that I have to ask myself, hmmm, is 11 am too early for a beer?
And I have to agree.
But there are those times, in the summer, when the whole of California, nay, the whole country(with the exception of a few kindred ecosystems like monterey), is basking in warmth, barbecuing in tight little shorts, swimming in cool bodies of water, while we in SF are up to our tits in fog, freezing our asses off as the wind whips through the city, rattling windows and creating sweatshirt sales at Fishermans Wharf, that I have to ask myself, hmmm, is 11 am too early for a beer?
Last Day in Vegas chapter 2
Johnnie Pai-Gow had been a precocious youth albeit one with a lax sense of moral convictions. On the morning of the family move to Texas, Johnnie, at age nine, had traded a a non-functioning pellet rifle to a neighborhood boy for a valuable baseball card collection that the boy's father had willed to him after dying in the tragic Cleveland pickle factory fire of 1966.
Johnnie hid the collection from his parents, Ephraim Pai and Su Han Yan Gow.
In Austin he took the collection to a renowned sports memorabilia dealer who,although initially wary of purchasing such a valuable collection from a minor, bought(after Johnnie reduced his asking price by half) the collection for fourteen thousand dollars in cash.
Johnnie kept the money hidden from his parents, Ephraim Pai and Su Han Yan Gow.
Johnnie's father Ephraim Pai was a stern taskmaster and would brook no dissent. Luckily he was also frequently absent as most of his time was spent in illegal gambling haunts. Johnnie knew if his father got his hands on the money it would soon disappear.
Ephraim Pai was the illegitimate product of a Pentecostal missionary from Toledo, Ohio and a Cambodian field worker. Ephraim practiced a bastardized form of religion that included Jesus, the Virgin, and the Buddha all spiced liberally with a dose of animism. He believed spirits inhabited all things and had been removed from gambling establishments on numerous occassions after verbally berating the chair he had been sitting in while playing a particularly bad hand of poker.
Johnnie's mother Su Han Yan Gow had come from a well-to-do family in China and was said to have been related to the last emperor. The Family had fled China concealed on a container ship and several of them died of a mysterious illness which was thought to have been a curse put upon them by the wife of chairman Mao Tse-Tung. In actuality it was syphilis.
Johnnie hid the collection from his parents, Ephraim Pai and Su Han Yan Gow.
In Austin he took the collection to a renowned sports memorabilia dealer who,although initially wary of purchasing such a valuable collection from a minor, bought(after Johnnie reduced his asking price by half) the collection for fourteen thousand dollars in cash.
Johnnie kept the money hidden from his parents, Ephraim Pai and Su Han Yan Gow.
Johnnie's father Ephraim Pai was a stern taskmaster and would brook no dissent. Luckily he was also frequently absent as most of his time was spent in illegal gambling haunts. Johnnie knew if his father got his hands on the money it would soon disappear.
Ephraim Pai was the illegitimate product of a Pentecostal missionary from Toledo, Ohio and a Cambodian field worker. Ephraim practiced a bastardized form of religion that included Jesus, the Virgin, and the Buddha all spiced liberally with a dose of animism. He believed spirits inhabited all things and had been removed from gambling establishments on numerous occassions after verbally berating the chair he had been sitting in while playing a particularly bad hand of poker.
Johnnie's mother Su Han Yan Gow had come from a well-to-do family in China and was said to have been related to the last emperor. The Family had fled China concealed on a container ship and several of them died of a mysterious illness which was thought to have been a curse put upon them by the wife of chairman Mao Tse-Tung. In actuality it was syphilis.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
The Last Day In Vegas
It was hot and windy. The air smelled like a combination of gravel pit dust and urban sprawl construction site potpourri. He pulled his hat down hard on his head as the convertible Fiat Spyder with the bad muffler rumbled its way back into the city. He had seen Hoover Dam and he had emerged victorious except the gift shop was closed. He had not been pulled over in at least 24 hours. Things were looking up. The Fiesta Casino loomed in the distance. It looked ominously like any other part of the shopping mall except it was larger and it wasn't a Von's.
"Damn" He said to the biting wind. "If it was Von's at least I could get a rotisserie chicken."
Then he remembered they had Fatburger in the casino and he calmed down. A turkey cheeseburger with all the fixin's would have to suffice.
He pulled into the parking lot and settled the Fiat in between a Hummer and an El Dorado.
As he was getting out of car he noticed a dame making her toward him.
"Not bad" He thought." She's got legs that go all the way to her ass."
She approached him and stood standing right in front of him as he struggled to extricate himself from the sticky bucket seat. He decided just to sit back gracefully and see what this lady had to say for herself.
Her eyes were green and they had a mischevious twinkle.
"Are you Johnnie Pai-Gow?" She asked even though it was obvious she knew he was.
"Hmm, could be. Who wants to know."
"My litttle friend here." She said as she pulled out a nickel plated .38 automatic and pointed it at Johnnie Pai-Gow's rather expansive mid-section.
"Does your little friend have a name?" He asked in a mocking tone.
"Yes"
She paused and the dusty air was pregnant with tension as well as the smell from a nearby Arby's´®.
Her eyes flamed as her gold eyeshadow caught the brilliant Las Vegas sun.
"Revenge."
She pulled the trigger.
"Damn" He said to the biting wind. "If it was Von's at least I could get a rotisserie chicken."
Then he remembered they had Fatburger in the casino and he calmed down. A turkey cheeseburger with all the fixin's would have to suffice.
He pulled into the parking lot and settled the Fiat in between a Hummer and an El Dorado.
As he was getting out of car he noticed a dame making her toward him.
"Not bad" He thought." She's got legs that go all the way to her ass."
She approached him and stood standing right in front of him as he struggled to extricate himself from the sticky bucket seat. He decided just to sit back gracefully and see what this lady had to say for herself.
Her eyes were green and they had a mischevious twinkle.
"Are you Johnnie Pai-Gow?" She asked even though it was obvious she knew he was.
"Hmm, could be. Who wants to know."
"My litttle friend here." She said as she pulled out a nickel plated .38 automatic and pointed it at Johnnie Pai-Gow's rather expansive mid-section.
"Does your little friend have a name?" He asked in a mocking tone.
"Yes"
She paused and the dusty air was pregnant with tension as well as the smell from a nearby Arby's´®.
Her eyes flamed as her gold eyeshadow caught the brilliant Las Vegas sun.
"Revenge."
She pulled the trigger.
Sunday, May 15, 2005
It's everything I thought it would be and less
Much less. Oooh Vegas, It's So exciting. Yeah, like a crack ho wearing Gucci.
I do like the terrain though, the mountains are beautiful and the weather is hot and dry. Went to the Valley of Fire and saw some cool petroglyphs and twisted rock formations. I've been riding around in an "81 fiat spider with the top down and now my face is four shades darker than the rest of me.
We got pulled over last night right off the strip. I don't think the cops like my friend Rene. This cop was a meathead with an attitude and he was obviously trying to get Rene to argue with him. I think he might have been on the "roids".
Rene asked me if I thought he looked like a drug dealer and I replied truthfully.
"Uh huh."
I do like the terrain though, the mountains are beautiful and the weather is hot and dry. Went to the Valley of Fire and saw some cool petroglyphs and twisted rock formations. I've been riding around in an "81 fiat spider with the top down and now my face is four shades darker than the rest of me.
We got pulled over last night right off the strip. I don't think the cops like my friend Rene. This cop was a meathead with an attitude and he was obviously trying to get Rene to argue with him. I think he might have been on the "roids".
Rene asked me if I thought he looked like a drug dealer and I replied truthfully.
"Uh huh."
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
Sunday, May 08, 2005
oh, Patton
From Patton Oswalt's site http://www.pattonoswalt.com/
The next time one of these Jesus Nerds starts braying about "intelligent design" and that "evolution is just a theory", please direct them to the following website:
http://wilstar.com/theories.htm
It's a one-page, clearly written explanation of what "theory" means in scientific terms. It's okay to BELIEVE in creationism. It's the same way I BELIEVE that Paris Hilton is a twat-demon from the Burning Cuntlands of the Outer Darkness, sent to earth in human form to make people worship money and privilege. But, like creationism, I'll never be able to prove it scientifically.
Blessed art he that speaketh the truth...
PS. sorry I still havent figure out the link thing....
The next time one of these Jesus Nerds starts braying about "intelligent design" and that "evolution is just a theory", please direct them to the following website:
http://wilstar.com/theories.htm
It's a one-page, clearly written explanation of what "theory" means in scientific terms. It's okay to BELIEVE in creationism. It's the same way I BELIEVE that Paris Hilton is a twat-demon from the Burning Cuntlands of the Outer Darkness, sent to earth in human form to make people worship money and privilege. But, like creationism, I'll never be able to prove it scientifically.
Blessed art he that speaketh the truth...
PS. sorry I still havent figure out the link thing....
mother's day
Well the greeting card industry isn't going to get me with their manufactured "holiday". Mother? What did she ever do for me?
Actually I'm going to be a good son and take her out for brunch.
All my friends are transplants from the east coast so whenever there's a holiday they get to drink booze and get wasted and I have to go out to the country and eat roast leg of lamb with the family. Oh poor, poor me.
My other siblings are all mothers in their own right so I guess they get off the hook for this one... life is so unfair.
Actually I'm going to be a good son and take her out for brunch.
All my friends are transplants from the east coast so whenever there's a holiday they get to drink booze and get wasted and I have to go out to the country and eat roast leg of lamb with the family. Oh poor, poor me.
My other siblings are all mothers in their own right so I guess they get off the hook for this one... life is so unfair.
Friday, May 06, 2005
Thursday, May 05, 2005
that's obscene!
I read in the "paper" today that a middle school marching band in Benton Harbor, Michigan were banned from playing the song "Louie, Louie" because one parent called the superintendent and complained that the song was obscene. Holy bongwater, Batman...
The article went on to say that the FBI spent two years investigating the lyrics before declaring they not only were not obscene but also were "unintelligible at any speed."
Two years?
Iwould have liked to been on that detail.
"okay let's see how it sounds if we take acid and speed it way up."
The article went on to say that the FBI spent two years investigating the lyrics before declaring they not only were not obscene but also were "unintelligible at any speed."
Two years?
Iwould have liked to been on that detail.
"okay let's see how it sounds if we take acid and speed it way up."
Monday, May 02, 2005
Vegas?
Well, since I didn't get the job I was hoping for I've decided to go to Las Vegas instead. It seems like the natural choice. I can "bet the farm". Take my hard earned savings and etc...
Actually my friends who are living there for a couple of months told me to bring camping gear...Camping gear? Vegas? What is this? Some kind of cruel hoax? I guess there's a place called the Valley of Fire that has some "great" rock formations. Also I want to visit the neon sign graveyard...it does exist.
I do hope there's a full moon. No, really I do.
Actually my friends who are living there for a couple of months told me to bring camping gear...Camping gear? Vegas? What is this? Some kind of cruel hoax? I guess there's a place called the Valley of Fire that has some "great" rock formations. Also I want to visit the neon sign graveyard...it does exist.
I do hope there's a full moon. No, really I do.
Friday, April 29, 2005
We dug it up, really!
Are these guys starring in the latest movie by Guy Ritchie?
Nope.
I saw this photo, actually a cropped version of just the guy in the middle, in the chronicle yesterday. I said to my friend, look a the expression on that guys face...he looks like he's up to something, like he's gonna party it up. Turns out these New Hampshire lads said they found a bunch of old money and gold and silver certificates worth about $75,000 while digging up a tree in one of the guy's yards. Unfortunately it was a lie according to the man in the middle who confessed to finding the money in old tin cans in a gutter of a barn that the men were hired to do the roofing. Police believe they actually found it in the attic of the barn because the money was in such good shape. The cops got wise when the men started getting major media attention and their stories kept changing. At the time of their arrest they were slated to go on the jimmy kimmel show.
According to police the other guys haven't confessed and are sticking to the original story... a little late.
Thursday, April 28, 2005
thanks for wearing pajamas
which reminds me, one time we were searching for a housemate and this guy came wearing pajama bottoms but it wasn't like he was urbane..these were cargo pajamas and he had a fanny pack as well, i think he had a mullet too.
We had another guy who brought his luggage with him to the interview. He had talked to one of us on the phone and he thought he was gonna just move right in. We felt kind of bad sending him on his way. He had just gotten out of the army.
We found a guy one time to move in and he gave us a deposit, he seemed like a nice guy, and a few days before the first he brought a bunch of his stuff and piled it in the entranceway. Then the first of the month came and went and the second and the third and we were wondering where is this guy? So we called his old place and asked if they knew where he was and there was a long pause at the other end of the phone.
"umm, you didn't hear? He died of an overdose four days ago."
I was shocked.
My stoner roomate didn't believe it.
"He didn't die! He just found a different place and he doesn't want to move in here."
"Yeah, right."
His parents came to pick up his stuff and they wanted his deposit back.
We didn't give it to them, we needed the money to cover his rent that month.
We had another guy who brought his luggage with him to the interview. He had talked to one of us on the phone and he thought he was gonna just move right in. We felt kind of bad sending him on his way. He had just gotten out of the army.
We found a guy one time to move in and he gave us a deposit, he seemed like a nice guy, and a few days before the first he brought a bunch of his stuff and piled it in the entranceway. Then the first of the month came and went and the second and the third and we were wondering where is this guy? So we called his old place and asked if they knew where he was and there was a long pause at the other end of the phone.
"umm, you didn't hear? He died of an overdose four days ago."
I was shocked.
My stoner roomate didn't believe it.
"He didn't die! He just found a different place and he doesn't want to move in here."
"Yeah, right."
His parents came to pick up his stuff and they wanted his deposit back.
We didn't give it to them, we needed the money to cover his rent that month.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
huh
I didn't get the job even though I went through the phone interview and the subsequent conference room follow-up interview with his superior. He said they gave it to someone "in-house". Damn. I was all set to celebrate my new job. Now I'll have to celebrate my continuing lack thereof...
I did sell my painting on ebay for $51 US. That'll buy some Jack and gingers...
I did sell my painting on ebay for $51 US. That'll buy some Jack and gingers...
"Yeah?"
A friend and I were riding bikes up to the Haight when we saw a plume of smoke rising from a nearby building. Since we were passing a firestation we decided to alert them to this impending conflagration. I rang the doorbell and a woman firefighter came to the door.
"Yeah?" She said, as if we were interrupting a fiercely contested game of Jenga.
I pointed down the street.
"Smoke"
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
King Hoopty rides again
I put one of my paintings on ebay as an experiment and it is up to $32.50. I'm thinking job? who needs a job? If i could just sell four of those every day....
Who is King Hoopty?
It's a mystery...
Who is King Hoopty?
It's a mystery...
Monday, April 25, 2005
Job, what job?
Sorry about the double propaganda bloggings, I couldn't resist when I saw the poster with the texaco label on it. I have to say I do appreciate good propaganda 'cause usually it's not very subtle...
the whole anti-japanese thing that's going on in china right now...what's up with that? Is there really that much anti-japanese hatred amongst young chinese or is this some sort state sponsored hate rally...
If we don't have someone to hate life just isn't as much fun?
the whole anti-japanese thing that's going on in china right now...what's up with that? Is there really that much anti-japanese hatred amongst young chinese or is this some sort state sponsored hate rally...
If we don't have someone to hate life just isn't as much fun?
Saturday, April 23, 2005
Thursday, April 21, 2005
thursday
Is it thursday again already? well that's a cause for celebration dontcha think? or then again maybe I'll just do my laundry...
my brain is not working quite yet...
coffee
coffee
ho hum
my brain is not working quite yet...
coffee
coffee
ho hum
Sunday, April 17, 2005
nevermind
so yesterday Jimmy James came over and we took some mushrooms that he'd had for awhile. we decided to take a walk up to USF and check out the "scenery". By the time we got to Lone Mountain we were fucking tired and mildly tripping.
I can't really describe what happened...it wasn't enough to really get high just enough to make me think about my ex and how i missed her, yeah that's fun...
the scenery was pretty nice though, kind of like being in an impressionist painting, saturday in the park, families and kids, people lazing on the grass soaking up the sun, a slight breeze blowing through the tree tops...
After hanging out in GG park for awhile and up to stoh lake we decided to get something to eat and went to the roof at park chow. The highlight of the meal was when when we were cracking up about something and Jimmy James rips a loud fart.
"damn Jimmy"
The young women at the table next to us shot us some evil glares.
Going back through the haight was an adventure into mordor, orcs and trolls were everywhere, it was like spaceship deadhead had crashed and spewed out the dirtiest ugliest scary space-pirate-zombie proto-manson-seed headkerchief wearing bunch of skanks, etc I mean they were everywhere...
We decided to escape into the calm darkness of Zam Zam. Surrounded by twinkling bottles of sweet booze we fortified ourselves with irish coffees and then a couple Jamesons.
ah yes sweet nectar that soothes the soul...
I can't really describe what happened...it wasn't enough to really get high just enough to make me think about my ex and how i missed her, yeah that's fun...
the scenery was pretty nice though, kind of like being in an impressionist painting, saturday in the park, families and kids, people lazing on the grass soaking up the sun, a slight breeze blowing through the tree tops...
After hanging out in GG park for awhile and up to stoh lake we decided to get something to eat and went to the roof at park chow. The highlight of the meal was when when we were cracking up about something and Jimmy James rips a loud fart.
"damn Jimmy"
The young women at the table next to us shot us some evil glares.
Going back through the haight was an adventure into mordor, orcs and trolls were everywhere, it was like spaceship deadhead had crashed and spewed out the dirtiest ugliest scary space-pirate-zombie proto-manson-seed headkerchief wearing bunch of skanks, etc I mean they were everywhere...
We decided to escape into the calm darkness of Zam Zam. Surrounded by twinkling bottles of sweet booze we fortified ourselves with irish coffees and then a couple Jamesons.
ah yes sweet nectar that soothes the soul...
Saturday, April 16, 2005
saturday am , no, pm
1:03 and I'm having my first cup of coffee and checking my email. Tons of spam. who are these spammers that are working on saturday morning? They are an industrious lot, i must say. I wish I could get a little of their get up and go. Of course, they don't really get up and go anywhere they just sit on their ass and press a button and then collect money from somebody who's trying to sell fantastic quantities of crap.
Friday, April 15, 2005
friday
Fridays aren't bad when you're unemployed because you feel like you can get an early start on your "weekend". and you don't have to feel as guilty for not looking for a job as you would on,say, Monday, tuesday, wed or thursday.
I actually buckled down and did something constructive this morning so maybe this is a start of things to come.
I read somewhere someone(a woman) say "getting a hard on is not personal growth". and that pretty much summed me up in a "nut"shell.
oh laa de da
laa de da
I wonder if anyone has viewed this blog.
I haven't told anyone about it.
I actually buckled down and did something constructive this morning so maybe this is a start of things to come.
I read somewhere someone(a woman) say "getting a hard on is not personal growth". and that pretty much summed me up in a "nut"shell.
oh laa de da
laa de da
I wonder if anyone has viewed this blog.
I haven't told anyone about it.
Sunday, April 10, 2005
politics as usual
Started smoking again, god damn it. I made it one week. I guess I just get depressed. It couldn't be that I'm unemployed, my girlfriend and I broke up or that i have no real hope for a decent "career". No, that's not it.
fuck.
fuck.
Saturday, April 09, 2005
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
biblical thoughts
I was reading the bible last night because there really wasn't anything else to read and because i was a little curious about the old testament. So after the serpent gives Eve the fruit from the tree of knowledge and she serves it to Adam and they cover themselves with fig leaves Adam gets nervous and decides to hide from old God 'cause he knows he's in trouble(kind of like a Leave it to Beaver episode)(and the Lord created Ward Cleaver in his image) So Adam is hiding behind a tree and God says where are you? and I'm like what the hell kind of allmighty God is this that can't spot Adam because he's hiding behind a tree?
Also Adam lived to be nine hundred and thirty years old? Damn. Everybody lived a long time back then. ceptin abel what got slewed by his brethren. Actually it says his days were nine hundred and thirty years, So is that like 33 years but then some people who did plenty of begattin had days of nine hundred and 12 years. Fifteen? this must be the old math. old testament math.
I had to call it a night after the begattin began. that goes on for several pages and I was wondering is that just filler to make it seem like they really know this stuff for a fact? I mean, people were reading it thinking this is so boring it must be true, I guess Adam really did live to be nine hundred and thirty.
Also Adam lived to be nine hundred and thirty years old? Damn. Everybody lived a long time back then. ceptin abel what got slewed by his brethren. Actually it says his days were nine hundred and thirty years, So is that like 33 years but then some people who did plenty of begattin had days of nine hundred and 12 years. Fifteen? this must be the old math. old testament math.
I had to call it a night after the begattin began. that goes on for several pages and I was wondering is that just filler to make it seem like they really know this stuff for a fact? I mean, people were reading it thinking this is so boring it must be true, I guess Adam really did live to be nine hundred and thirty.
Monday, April 04, 2005
what day is it?
This is what happens after being under-employed for so long. Wasn't it the current president of Harvard who referred to Africa as under-polluted? Now there's a concept for you...sounds like something they'd come up with at a think tank. fucking eggheads.
What did they say about Ishi (the last native american living in the wild)? he looked on the whites as sophisticated children..smart but not wise.
Taking care of the Dog. Named Stanley aka crowd pleaser. Amazingly he's not chewing on anything at the moment, although he did have a good barking session at the recycling truck. yeah get 'em.
oh boy the ncaa final tonight. unc vs the fighting Illini.
I don't think the dog likes Nirvana. he keeps yelping. Maybe they sound like the recycling truck.
Pennyroyal Teeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaa.
What did they say about Ishi (the last native american living in the wild)? he looked on the whites as sophisticated children..smart but not wise.
Taking care of the Dog. Named Stanley aka crowd pleaser. Amazingly he's not chewing on anything at the moment, although he did have a good barking session at the recycling truck. yeah get 'em.
oh boy the ncaa final tonight. unc vs the fighting Illini.
I don't think the dog likes Nirvana. he keeps yelping. Maybe they sound like the recycling truck.
Pennyroyal Teeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaa.
Sunday, April 03, 2005
day 5 or day 3(again)
Watched Superisize Me on cable the other day and the guy says eating McDonalds every day is akin to quitting smoking: once you make it past the third day you're fine. Well I'm on day 3 and i do feel ok but then it usually hits around 7:30 pm. Of course just because you get past the third day don't mean doodle. People who quit ten years ago still crave a smoke. Yeah, that's commitment.
Saturday, April 02, 2005
day 4(again)
hmm, well, I entitled this blog with a line from Lewis Carroll's poem Jabberwocky which my father made me memorize when I was eight or nine. My sister got Robert Frost's Road less Travelled so I do think I got the good end of the stick. Anyway, we would have to recite this poem when called upon after our usual candlelit dinner at home. I think we got paid also, though i forget how much. A nickel? dime? something like that. We did much better on giving my dad back rubs which started out at a penny a minute but as we got older went up to a nickel a minute. There was good money to be had at a nickel a minute, especially if the tv was on and the old man fell asleep. You'd just sort of keep your hand on his back and when the show was over you'd roust him with a good jab and say "ok thats an hour, that'll be three bucks."
day 4
actually day 2 as I went one whole day without smoking yesterday. How many times have i done that? about a bazillion. easy as pie. actually it wasn't ...i nearly broke down around 8 pm but then i turned on the tv and watched the sf giants and i forgot all about my problems...what a soothing balm...
slept 11.5 hours last night, no shit.
slept 11.5 hours last night, no shit.
Friday, April 01, 2005
Day 3
Oh yeah, decided to quit smoking today so it's actually Day 1. Discovered that the kitchen sink pipes are rotted out and had leaked all over a big box of old negatives and prints. I went through and salvaged what i could but the majority were tossed. All my negatives from college, hundreds of pictures of santa cruz and my roomates. Good riddance. One less box of stuff to deal with. Moving makes you realize how much crap you really have.
Thursday, March 31, 2005
thanks for wearing pants
Actually I'm not.
just woke up from a nap and I can't tell if it's hot out or not. Even without pants. Wierd, huh?
Finally got my old room cleared out and all my stuff moved into the "new" room. I have alot of fucking stuff. yes. I do.
just woke up from a nap and I can't tell if it's hot out or not. Even without pants. Wierd, huh?
Finally got my old room cleared out and all my stuff moved into the "new" room. I have alot of fucking stuff. yes. I do.
day 2
Umm yeah, yesterday was a total wash.
Couldn't figure out why the header at the top of the blog cuts right through the middle of my blog name.
I guess this would be more of a diary type blog as opposed to someone who thinks he's an actual columnist. Rest assured I shall not be invoking the right of a reporter to protect his source. What is that ...4th amendment? More likely I'll be taking the fifth. In my coat pocket.
all rightey then, onward and upward.
Couldn't figure out why the header at the top of the blog cuts right through the middle of my blog name.
I guess this would be more of a diary type blog as opposed to someone who thinks he's an actual columnist. Rest assured I shall not be invoking the right of a reporter to protect his source. What is that ...4th amendment? More likely I'll be taking the fifth. In my coat pocket.
all rightey then, onward and upward.
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
FuknA
mmm
New roomate coming at 11 and i have a hangover. Drinking at the kilowatt last night where the discussion centered around-
A.Pat O'Briens coke-fuelled voice mails.
B.Twenty four year old friends relationship issues.
chicken soup sounds good right about now.
New roomate coming at 11 and i have a hangover. Drinking at the kilowatt last night where the discussion centered around-
A.Pat O'Briens coke-fuelled voice mails.
B.Twenty four year old friends relationship issues.
chicken soup sounds good right about now.
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