"Heaven Restores you in Life"

There are wars going on in my head that no one is winning. No one will ever win them. I always win, but to me winning often looks like losing feels. It is a selfish sort of victory. Cut off the nose to spite the face. I am a spiteful bastard who wants to always be even with those he deems adversaries. Trouble is when you get "even" with someone who's torn you down everyone just ends up in a flaming wreck. I really don't know how to end this loop but I know I just started cooking with Rosemary and may be my new favorite thing since I discovered twitter #hashtags.

If you're a fan of Interpol you've got to be a bit upset. The group has been hard to follow. Plagued by rumors of turmoil and a revolving door of moving parts, this now Trio is about as consistent as a broken clock. Always right every so often, but with long gaps in between where you're never too sure. Carlos D where are you? I find Interpol strange to write about because the ratio of how much I care about them to how much I like them (The Care:Like quotient) is amazingly small. (1:100ish) I really like them, but know almost nothing about them. They aren't my band, I didn't discover them for myself. I was introduced. And so as such an acquaintance was made I am able to fully enjoy their sad mopey music and feel unaffected by it. Cee-lo belts one ominous chord in the background of a song and all of a sudden I'm in shambles but Paul Banks can drone on all day in that monotone yell of his and I feel just fine. Perhaps it is better this way. I suppose it is important to mention that Interpol is the only thing BJ ever introduced me to I didn't hate. It was actually sad how many things I've later rediscovered that I realize I didn't hate so much, but for some reason if she liked it I HAD to hate it. But never these guys. Perhaps it is a testament to them? By contrast however, I couldn't stand to see a band of mine switch its parts around. D.A. and Max birthed Chester French. If either of them ever left I don't know what I'd do. And trust me Max is just as silent on record as Carlos is but they make their presence felt. Julian Plenti what are you doing here? I swear to christ I would punch Dan Auerbach in the mouth if he came out as Ryan T. Sanders and did a solo project. For the record Serge Tankian did a solo effort which sounded exactly like his System of a Down stuff. When I see him, to be sure there will be words exchanged. Music for me is pretty sacred. I love it, I need it. If you're good at it you're a higher being in my eyes, and if you understand it and/or have a good ear for it then I am more likely to get along with you. Don't come at me with any of this lowest common denominator stuff, these radio records. I want to hear about B-sides and live shows. And his name shall be the remix.

I'm getting back on my feet. Pretty soon I will be a whole year out of surgery and I will be able to really put that chapter of my life behind me. I don't think the timing could be worse. So much of my life, all the boyish thoughts and dreams died even when I wouldn't. I made it through the fire to appear on the otherside without anything or anyone familiar to me. Here I go as always planning to go through my life without an accomplice. No man is an island. Call me Gilligan. I'm not really lost but I know I not a mediocre person doing exceptional things. Quite the opposite. I'm a big ball of potential who has amounted to little or nothing. Maybe now that I'm a bit more isolated I'll be able to start turning the potential into output? Who kn0ws? Everyone I talk to sees someone in me that I don't fully believe is there. I think Mandela was right, fearing not what we cannot do, but that which me are meant to be and all that jazz.

I promise that as soon as I figure out what I'm doing you'll be the first to know. Maybe you can tell me? Comment if you think you know what I'll end up doing with my life! DO IT!!

And then I found $10

What a summer this has shaped up to be. I haven't shamed myself too much these past few months and after a nice celebratory trip home with my main squeeze Drew, I'm ready to get to business and put Eugene in the rear view. I realize I just used a colon in a post title for the first time...it feels strange. I haven't been able to sit down and write in a while so I will now get back to basics and share a story from work.

My job is an interesting one. "Sales" as we call it is kind of like an exercise in primal instinct. Marks...I mean customers need to be courted and catered to, tracked and pursued. No matter which way you slice it selling things to people is a lot like hunting. I often see someone across the room poking at luggage and you might assume that depending on how close I am to my daily sales goal I am more or less interested in helping them. Because making this goal is never all that important to me I usually decide to go over based on how confused they look. I genuinely enjoy meeting and talking to people all day and commission takes all the fun out of it. During a recent sale we were having I sent tons of patrons to other registers because they would end up waiting for me. It was sad to see. So when it comes to "sales" my motive is a social one. I've already met a lot of interesting people and I hope the trend continues especially after one recent group of folks came through the store.

A family came in and I noticed them ambling towards me over the shirt I was folding so I stayed still to allow them to reach me before I went to put it back on it's shelf. The mother and grandmother seemed a tad lost and as I prepared to explain where the restrooms were (it's ALWAYS the restroom) one of the little cherubs they had in tow hit a hanger rack and hit the deck. The noise was abrupt and sharp but not overly loud and there wasn't any odd of fleshy thud so I was pretty sure he hadn't hit his head. Yet in true customer service fashion I got overly worried and asked right away if he was ok, when in fact for the most part, I did not care. His mom fussed at him as she stood holing who I assume to be his sister and G-Ma bent down to investigate.

What is remarkable about this is that the boy the entire time peered up at me from beneath the rack and stayed there, unflinching. He wasn't crying and he didn't seem hurt. I think for him this was just a chance to take a respite from being drug around the mall by this matriarchal duo. I actually had nothing but sympathy for him. I stand all day and watch men lose their souls as women drag them around the mall. My ex's for the most part have never wanted me to go with them to the mall. It's not like I have any sort of remarkable taste in women's clothing. (less is better ladies) Cha-Cha would always try to get me to go to Vicki's Secret with her but at 18 I had some weird aversion to it, so I always fought not to. Needless to say, I respected this kids gangsta.

Regardless, this young fellow was quite content to lay there and so after a few silent moments from him on the ground they finally got him to his feet and stomped off in the direction of what they actually wanted... A stroller. I guess they knew 5 minutes before they found me that this kid was in no shape to keep walking but I'd wager it had nothing to do with him being tired. If I recall this was on the prelunch side of my shift and a spry young man like himself could probably have run circles for 18 consecutive hours that day if it suited him. Instead he was being forced to shop and so in pure passive protest he simply lagged. Keep up the good fight guy, you'll make Ghandi himself proud with passive resistance like that.

This day was pretty good if I recall. I also gained a compliment. I don't actually care about them, but the source is very important. A man came in to buy an omelette pan and so I began to show him the individual pans we have in stock. Almost all are 9" or 12" inches and all are either non-stick or stainless. He wanted a non-stick pan in the 10" or higher range and so I began to uneasily show him the wares. At this point I knew little if anything about cookware and so I feared he would quiz me beyond my training. The questions were fairly rudimentary and I slowly walked him through each. He paused a moment to examine a rack of pans and for no reason at all I walked to grab the first pan we saw just so he could do a side by side comparison. Most folks in my line of work would start the upsale here, and consider my move a good way to really get the customer thinking. "Get the product in their hands" they'll tell you. I did this because we were hanging out and to be honest I felt I should be able to tell them apart because up til this point I could not.

He made a comment that he was glad I'd brought the first pan and then came the kicker. "Which pan would you recommend me?" I was in no position to say which I liked more not owning either and I didn't even know the price of this new one but I felt like the first pan we saw was just mediocre and if memory serves the reason I picked pan #2 was because it had an insulated grip. I hate picking up hot handles. A pause and then he says, "really, this one? even though it costs more than the other one?" Fuck, now he thinks I'm trying to upsell him on a more expensive piece when thats the last thing I want to do. I clinch up for a second reaching for a reason besides "rubberized handles that I can point to and then it hits me. The pan he's got now is non stick, and the one he wanted was nonstick. "Do yourself a favor, throw in the extra and get stainless, you won't be back to replace this. I promise."

I, right now have absolutely no idea if this guy makes pots and pans for a living but I just told him something which I know is at least 38% made up so it's hot under the collar to say the least. I'm sweating quite a bit under the black cashmere. Luckily for me and my self esteem he actually smiles and says "yea I was thinking that too, I'll take the stainless." We walk over and as I ring him up he asks me if I would believe that 60% of the execs atop Fortune 500 companies got their start in sales. I told him that I had no clue but I'd believe it. He said he knew it was true because he was one of them and then mentioned that I was a good salesman. So good in fact that he offered to hire me on the spot.

That was a lie. He didn't offer because he is retired now but we did talk for a second about sales and selling and he was very nice. I was for once able to take a compliment because the 90 seconds prior were so filled with tension that all I could feel was relief and say thank you. I guess I learned one more thing about selling that day too, it's about bullshitting as much as it is about hunting.

Working For The Weekend

Hulk Smash?

I can't tell you how frustrating it is to be accused of something you haven't done. On T.V. whenever I see people in shows being accused of crimes they haven't committed I always laugh. Why get so upset? If you didn't do it, then the court will see that and I'm sure you'll be set free. The way these people act is just hilarious though. I'm sure in part it is theatrics, but another part of it mirrors true human emotion. In my head I tell myself I would smile and laugh. "You think I'm the one who killed that hooker? I don't even like sex that's offered to me oftentimes, so why would I be paying someone for services? Detective, you've got the wrong guy." In my head this is the calm refusal I would offer. But I think in reality it would be hard to deliver this speech as calmly as I've dreamt it up. Imagine being a kid in class accused of cutting the cheese, or a boss reprimanding you for a mess at the desk when you've just shown up for work. Imagine tripping over a dead body and when you stand up you're surrounded by police. Calm isn't exactly the prevailing emotion in most of these situations. What you want to do quickly and firmly is assert that this accusation is false. You want to make known quickly and if need be loudly that this is wrong. No NO NO! You've got the wrong guy here?! But what if someone is accusing you of being contrarian, or stubborn and argumentative, or always trying to be right?

Now you're stuck. Especially if this person is not all that calm themselves. It can sometimes be an untenable situation to try and tell someone forcefully and with all due care, that they are in fact wrong about you needing to be right all the time without seeming to prove their point. It's not impossible but I've come to realize I don't have the patience to pull it off. If I know I'm right and you're mistaken the Aries in me tells me to just shut up and emote "fuck off" towards the person. I've got stories of at least 3 people I still talk to on a regular basis who put me in this position. I tried to tell Franklin that Ben Rapelisberger won the Super Bowl as a rookie and once the wiki proved me wrong I spent 15 minutes apologizing. I think I'm the only person who does this. No one who tries to set me straight ever apologizes which is quickly climbing the ranks of things that annoy me. A long list indeed.

Most of all I find this situation funny indeed not just for its Catch-22 like segments but also because I simply cannot tell you how often I have to explain to them that I in fact am sure I'm sure because I only really speak when I'm sure. I hate sounding like a dumbass I apologize for 15 minutes not because the other person was right but because for 15 minutes I sounded like an idiot and they had to endure that. I used to bet my brother exorbitant amounts of money on things when we were kids. He'd try and tell me things like the sky was Green or that Raphael was the Blue Ninja turtle or something. (He's obviously the red one) And so every time he lost a bet he'd laugh hysterically or something and I would be incredulous. He still owes me like $252 Billion or something. I took that shit serious and he never won a single bet. Jerk.

I'm just going to shut up. When people accuse me of being stubborn or an ass they're never really wrong. I just don't think many folks have seen me melt down completely. Few people know just how "bad" i can get. And for someone who is willing to bleed for his loved one's I don't even think I wanna know what I'd do if someone really tried to get me on some false charges..? It couldn't go over well for anyone involved I know that much.

The Reeling (Miike Snow Remix)

I want You: Plural not Possessive

Last Friday night didn't go quite as expected and I've learned a lesson I ought to have long ago. My words are a weapon and their biggest victim is myself. I pop off all the time. I'm quite unafraid to write or say certain things and this usually works only to make me out to be a bigger ass hole than I need to be. I think I've said it before and I'm going to say it again. "When the only tool you have is a hammer, to you, the whole world is a nail." I think I often use my writing specifically to do a job better done sometimes another way.

It's summer time, which means it's time for grody, sweaty sex and movies. This isn't that kind of webpage so for now I will just stick with movies. I don't know what happened to this video and why it looks so trippy but I actually like it. Otherwise it's just 4 Frenchmen standing awkwardly while a bunch of Liberal Hippies cheer them on. Please enjoy.

Ed. Note: Apparently the video uploaded in a very normal and boring fashion; the trippy and much cooler version on my computer was never seen. I continue to apologize that your life is not mine.

The Mgmt.

Geek Life

I'm going out tonight, and I have work tomorrow so it will be a while before I get a chance to check back in. Until then I offer more proof of my utter Nerd-dom. I am so much more concerned with downloading this new song by Dave Sitek than oogling Daisy that I can actually tell you what book she was holding towards the end of the video. And it only took me like 3 views to decide I don't care for her dancing.....Yea I said it.

"Gag" order Pt.1

Jay-z said, "Triple entendre don't even ask me how" but I think I just figured it out with that, there title. Smiley Face, Wink, haha I'm kidding. I'll be happy to tell any of you who care to ask. And here's a hint: Yes, one meaning is definitely NOT a request for Sonic Burger though their food is quite gag worthy. In other news I've been getting feedback from friends and family who all say my writing is good but I know you're all lying. People who are good at things get hated on, asked to stop, told they're no good. I haven't a one hater...that I know of. So anyway through the various channels I've been asked to not discuss who or what I want so much so I'm here to verify that since I last washed my sheets on Monday the best thing that's been in my bed besides me are these tickets. Aug 13 @ the Roseland Theatre...it should be a blast. See Part.2 to find out more. (The hair tie is unrelated. They just keep popping up when I clean?)

I don't believe in sampling yourself, so instead of including some reheated stuff I wrote a while back I'm giving you a whole new update. And speaking of which as I write I noticed Big Boi has a sample of his own voice in a song from Sir Lucious Leftfoot: The Son of Chico Dusty. And while I can appreciate the prolix nature of his album title, it gave me pause to see such an amateurish maneuver on his first solo album. It was then that I realized Kanye's newest song gives us the explanation when he says, "I don't need your pussy I'm on my own dick." The initial song is a banger and this new track is one as well so in Mr. Patton's eye's it was simply a matter of himself being the best one for the job. Repurposing material has a decidedly second hand feeling to it because said material will never stand truly apart from it's initial use but the song sounds great and the album as a whole sounds amazing so if one song sounds like it came from a mixtape then I can forgive.

A request was recently made for me to censor myself and I had been meaning to expand my subject material anyway so I'd like to share for a moment the fact that I've just seen Hot Tub time machine. Normally an occurrence as run of the mill as this wouldn't merit a mention but the message I took from it was shockingly narrow and offensive. I know...shocking I took issue with something, what a surprise. This like a lot of other movies was made simply to get people to see it regardless of whether or not they would leave pleased with the experience. Some gratuitous nakedness and profane jokes were thrown in to make the majority of people happy they saw it but little else is even in this flic. It seems like artistic vision was not a word thrown around much on set. I enjoyed the comedy of a flashback to the 80's. It's amazing how much of a decade I only lived through 4 years of is so ingrained in my life. I was also pleased by the original takes on time travel theory and comedic elements found within the film. Wondering when and how the bellhop would lose his arm brought my great joy as did the scene where Craig Robinson's character is "forced" to have sex with a groupie in his jacuzzi. (a different one) This was also a rare instance in which I liked all the actors involved. And most of all I loved the way past and present were contrasted. Over and Over and OVER the point is made that communication in the past ten years has changed so much that we couldn't even talk to people in the late 80's about HOW we even communicate. It's awesome and funny and sad to think about all at once. The point is made when Rob Cordry's character mockingly laments, "Oh, what? You worried you'll have to actually talk to girls with your actual mouth?" It was like the director was screaming "Look! See! It's right here in front of you! Now internalize this and do something about it!! I know this feeling well. Smiley Face. What disappointed me was that each character was portrayed as a modern day version of a common story of failure. In this land where we are promised freedom the only thing we truly have the freedom to do is fail.

Success is a possibility but failure is a guarantee for us humans. Anyway all these guys were pissed and sad with life. They go back in time to the "good ol'days" which don't fucking exist by the way, and were charged with sitting there and not doing anything different. Now lets stop for one second and think about this. Does anyone think about the past in the context of "boy I hope that shit is just the same way I remember it"? Fuck no. If things were good you'd want them to start sooner and end later, and if they were bad then the inverse would be true. So expecting these men to go back to their formative years and make the same mistakes with none of the consequences readily apparent what were we to believe they'd do? It's not like things could get worse right? By the way the whole ominous warning thing with Chevy Chase was stupid. I don't think it made any sense considering they all vastly varied their behavior and nothing bad happened because of it. So to get more to my point the movie seems to say it's ok to hate your present because we all wish we could have done things differently and it's never too late to start changing your mindset. The thing is no one goes back in time and does this. Instead they leave behind a member of the crew who then goes on to use his knowledge of world events to make himself into a mogul on the scale of Bill Gates Multiplied by Tom Cruise. So instead of this being a movie about something redeeming, like not living with mistakes, instead it basically says the only way to be happy is to realize the parts of your life that you don't like, focus on them, then send a buddy into the past to change the future for you and then hand you happiness you did nothing to earn on the backend. Sweet idea? Yes of course. Plausible concept? Not in the least. Rationality be damned, but this movie didn't have the comedic value nor the Breasticular content of wedding crashers so why I wasted my time with it I will never fully know. Next on my list of movies to see is Harry Brown. It's about an old guy who gets pissed and then starts killing people while looking for revenge. Sound familiar?

Here is another story from my time in the hospital:

One night the nurse came in to take my blood and she literally pulled out a manual and a flashlight because she didn't want to wake me. I called the head nurse into my room the next morning and expressed my concerns about the matter. I never saw her again. True story. I wonder how many nurses I got fired?

This is bloody weird. I'm not sure what to think about this picture. I do like gummy bears. But I don't like heart transplants soooo...yea?

That's all I got kin'folks. I'm gonna go write Part.2 and It should be in the next 24-48 hours.

My own dick

Cease Fire

I want to take a step back and not attack anyone or anything for a while. It's not because I feel bad but I find that my rants are becoming to similar and no new ground is being covered. It's a great schtick but I would rather be Jon Stewart than Lewis Black. Instead I will go back to my roots as a debut specialist. You all should come here wondering what new and exciting things I've wasted my time mining from every corner of the Inter Webs. Tonight's entry to the debate is this video. It is silly, but music makes me happy. Play it loud and shake your ass...BENGA!