SAN FRANCISCO, CA - So, this makes an even 100 blog posts thus far. Just thought that was worth noting. Not much to report at the moment other than the fact I just got back from yet another early Monday morning adventure in moving my car for street cleaning. I thought my car was broken today (turns out it's not).
Otherwise, I'm ready to take a nap.
For anyone interested, here's a link that I couldn't help but crack up over.
http://food.yahoo.com/blog/editorspicks/7112/make-take-out-healthier-dishes-to-order-and-avoid
It's all about varieties of fast(ish) ethnic foods and the good and bad picks. Almost without exception I love the bad stuff and can't stand the good stuff. Maybe this is why my body hates me and seeks revenge most of the time.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Mini-Pig, Baby-Poop, Gut-Busters, And-More
SAN FRANCISCO, CA - Mini-pigs exist and I have to admit... I kinda want one.
Monika brought mini-pigs to our attention last night. I don't know how much they cost, I don't know where to get them, I don't even know if they're legal in this country, but I do know this...
...they'd make one hell of a delicious Ham 'n' Cheese. Just think... deep frying one of those, sticking it between two slices of bread with some fine cheese and maybe a little mustard. Mmmmm....
You need to aim a little lower, buddy.
In other news, Nadine and Quetzal finally dyed their hair. They used henna.
If you don't know, henna smells like a lovely combination of baby poo and hay. Which meant the room smelled like a lovely combination of baby poo and hay for several days.
Also, I've got Dave on what is soon to become my patented "Chicago-Style Diet." See, Dave wants to put on a little meat. And I clearly know how to do that (despite rumors floating around that I am looking thinner these days). So we're starting the meat-cheese-carb regimen.
Cheese-covered cheese is the name of the game and Dave is fighting me every step of the way. I keep reminding him that he asked for it. He's a terrible trainee. Every suggestion is met with resistance. I tell him to take a nap - he cleans his room instead. I suggest walking up the five flights of stairs each day, taking small breaks at each flight - he runs up them instead. I suggest a late-night snack of pumpkin pie - he eats organic, unsalted, raw peanuts instead. I need 110% here, Dave. You're giving me somewhere around 12%.
Today, we went out for a gut-buster feast at Buster's. They make the best Philly cheesesteaks around here. I told Dave to go in and order for himself while I ran across the street to get some cash. I got back, ordered my feast, and then discovered that he had skimped out. Yes, I am proud of him for ordering the large cheesesteak and making sure to get Cheese Whiz on it instead of something real, but he didn't get any cheese fries or a soda.
What's that all about?
I'm gonna have to start charging him for my services if it's gonna take this much work on my part. I feel like I'm going to end up as one of those trainers that scream at people. Maybe it'll be good for me.
Oh well, at least the food was good.
Every time someone eats one of these, a hippie's hacky sack falls down a gutter.
Oh yeah. And the Flying Scotsman loves showing Market Street what the good Lord blessed him with.
And Berkeley looked awfully fake yesterday...
...but they sell a pretty mean hat at the Berkeley Hat Co.
That's all for now.
Monika brought mini-pigs to our attention last night. I don't know how much they cost, I don't know where to get them, I don't even know if they're legal in this country, but I do know this...
...they'd make one hell of a delicious Ham 'n' Cheese. Just think... deep frying one of those, sticking it between two slices of bread with some fine cheese and maybe a little mustard. Mmmmm....
You need to aim a little lower, buddy.
In other news, Nadine and Quetzal finally dyed their hair. They used henna.
If you don't know, henna smells like a lovely combination of baby poo and hay. Which meant the room smelled like a lovely combination of baby poo and hay for several days.
Also, I've got Dave on what is soon to become my patented "Chicago-Style Diet." See, Dave wants to put on a little meat. And I clearly know how to do that (despite rumors floating around that I am looking thinner these days). So we're starting the meat-cheese-carb regimen.
Cheese-covered cheese is the name of the game and Dave is fighting me every step of the way. I keep reminding him that he asked for it. He's a terrible trainee. Every suggestion is met with resistance. I tell him to take a nap - he cleans his room instead. I suggest walking up the five flights of stairs each day, taking small breaks at each flight - he runs up them instead. I suggest a late-night snack of pumpkin pie - he eats organic, unsalted, raw peanuts instead. I need 110% here, Dave. You're giving me somewhere around 12%.
Today, we went out for a gut-buster feast at Buster's. They make the best Philly cheesesteaks around here. I told Dave to go in and order for himself while I ran across the street to get some cash. I got back, ordered my feast, and then discovered that he had skimped out. Yes, I am proud of him for ordering the large cheesesteak and making sure to get Cheese Whiz on it instead of something real, but he didn't get any cheese fries or a soda.
What's that all about?
I'm gonna have to start charging him for my services if it's gonna take this much work on my part. I feel like I'm going to end up as one of those trainers that scream at people. Maybe it'll be good for me.
Oh well, at least the food was good.
Every time someone eats one of these, a hippie's hacky sack falls down a gutter.
Oh yeah. And the Flying Scotsman loves showing Market Street what the good Lord blessed him with.
And Berkeley looked awfully fake yesterday...
...but they sell a pretty mean hat at the Berkeley Hat Co.
That's all for now.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Noise
SAN FRANCISCO, CA - The noise is back and it's filling up my head again.
Winter has taken over this entire country, whether there's snow on the ground or not. Apparently a geographic answer isn't the only one I need.
Who would have thought (other than all the people who told me just that)?
So, now I find myself at a loss for words once again to thoroughly explain just what happens to me each time the weather turns. But my head is filled with static and it's terribly distracting. I usually have multiple feeds flowing upstairs and a soundtrack running and now the whole thing runs with a filter of static over it, like the snow you see on TV when a channel goes off the air for the night.
I always end up hibernating and spend long stretches of time indoors (which only turns into a vicious cycle with the whole "lack-of-sunlight" thing). I took the bus early the other morning to head to my car for my weekly move and realized I hadn't been on the bus for far too long and therefore hadn't ventured very far from the hostel in quite some time.
I also get moody quite easily... or rather my mood swings back and forth. The other night I snapped at a homeless guy. On my way back home from Trader Joe's some guy hit me up for change. This city has turned me quite cold about the whole homeless thing as I get hit up for money no fewer than 4 times each time I make the walk to work (about 20 minutes). I shrugged this guy off, yet he persisted.
"C'mon, man. Just a couple bucks for a cup of coffee."
That's when I snapped and my voice raised more and more as I rehashed my day, how I had been at work since 8am (it was now 12:30 at night), and I still didn't have any money to spend. I asked him what the hell he had done with his day, since I was still broke, couldn't really afford food, but I still managed to go to work. He just stared blankly at me and after a beat said, "It ain't that much man, just enough for a cup of coffee." His hand had stayed extended and open through my entire rant and continued to hold it's position even after. For a second, I though about hitting the guy. Instead I turned and walked back home. He mumbled something that I chose to ignore.
My stupid tolerance always runs short this time of year, too. Someone called the hostel today and asked me the same set of questions 6 times each. I was very polite throughout the conversation but was running out of steam near the end, particularly when he asked me for the 7th time how long the travel time was from the airport. He asked over and over and over again how long a shuttle would take him from the hostel to the airport and I explained that it always depends on traffic but the shuttle service always plans it out right for the time of day to get you there on time. It was like talking to one of those automated operators - if you didn't use the magical words they were looking for, it didn't matter how detailed and thorough you were in answering their question. they were going to ask it again and again. Like when we had lunch with Wesley Willis and he asked Loren Wells if his dad repaired electronics.
"Your daddy repairs electronics, right?"
"Yup," Loren replied.
The question was repeated several more times and Loren replied "Yup" each time. Finally, it dawned on all of us and Loren said, "Right." The question was then considered answered by Wesley.
Here's the deal. Wesley was a 300-pound schizophrenic artist. What's your excuse, pal?
And this is exactly what I mean. No particular reason for it. I just get irritated with so many little things. I really though I could hide out from it, or that Illinois was the problem, or it was the snow. Now... well... I dunno.
This is the time of year I start having bizarre thoughts, like how it wouldn't be so bad if I got hit by a car and ended up in a coma until spring. It's so bizarre, I have no choice but to laugh sometimes.
I need a break.
Winter has taken over this entire country, whether there's snow on the ground or not. Apparently a geographic answer isn't the only one I need.
Who would have thought (other than all the people who told me just that)?
So, now I find myself at a loss for words once again to thoroughly explain just what happens to me each time the weather turns. But my head is filled with static and it's terribly distracting. I usually have multiple feeds flowing upstairs and a soundtrack running and now the whole thing runs with a filter of static over it, like the snow you see on TV when a channel goes off the air for the night.
I always end up hibernating and spend long stretches of time indoors (which only turns into a vicious cycle with the whole "lack-of-sunlight" thing). I took the bus early the other morning to head to my car for my weekly move and realized I hadn't been on the bus for far too long and therefore hadn't ventured very far from the hostel in quite some time.
I also get moody quite easily... or rather my mood swings back and forth. The other night I snapped at a homeless guy. On my way back home from Trader Joe's some guy hit me up for change. This city has turned me quite cold about the whole homeless thing as I get hit up for money no fewer than 4 times each time I make the walk to work (about 20 minutes). I shrugged this guy off, yet he persisted.
"C'mon, man. Just a couple bucks for a cup of coffee."
That's when I snapped and my voice raised more and more as I rehashed my day, how I had been at work since 8am (it was now 12:30 at night), and I still didn't have any money to spend. I asked him what the hell he had done with his day, since I was still broke, couldn't really afford food, but I still managed to go to work. He just stared blankly at me and after a beat said, "It ain't that much man, just enough for a cup of coffee." His hand had stayed extended and open through my entire rant and continued to hold it's position even after. For a second, I though about hitting the guy. Instead I turned and walked back home. He mumbled something that I chose to ignore.
My stupid tolerance always runs short this time of year, too. Someone called the hostel today and asked me the same set of questions 6 times each. I was very polite throughout the conversation but was running out of steam near the end, particularly when he asked me for the 7th time how long the travel time was from the airport. He asked over and over and over again how long a shuttle would take him from the hostel to the airport and I explained that it always depends on traffic but the shuttle service always plans it out right for the time of day to get you there on time. It was like talking to one of those automated operators - if you didn't use the magical words they were looking for, it didn't matter how detailed and thorough you were in answering their question. they were going to ask it again and again. Like when we had lunch with Wesley Willis and he asked Loren Wells if his dad repaired electronics.
"Your daddy repairs electronics, right?"
"Yup," Loren replied.
The question was repeated several more times and Loren replied "Yup" each time. Finally, it dawned on all of us and Loren said, "Right." The question was then considered answered by Wesley.
Here's the deal. Wesley was a 300-pound schizophrenic artist. What's your excuse, pal?
And this is exactly what I mean. No particular reason for it. I just get irritated with so many little things. I really though I could hide out from it, or that Illinois was the problem, or it was the snow. Now... well... I dunno.
This is the time of year I start having bizarre thoughts, like how it wouldn't be so bad if I got hit by a car and ended up in a coma until spring. It's so bizarre, I have no choice but to laugh sometimes.
I need a break.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Tom Cruise Actually Believes South Park
I promise you, if you just sit through it, it is totally worth it.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
They Always Told Me I Used My Hands A Lot
The Onion Horoscope for the Week of January 10-16.
VIRGO (August 23-September 22)
You always thought that talking with your hands was something you did because you were Italian, but, as it turns out, it's because you're deaf.
Maybe I should have been an Aries.
ARIES (March 21-April 19)
Lately it seems like every time you open your mouth something terrible happens. Don't be alarmed: What you're suffering from is known as "food poisoning."
VIRGO (August 23-September 22)
You always thought that talking with your hands was something you did because you were Italian, but, as it turns out, it's because you're deaf.
Maybe I should have been an Aries.
ARIES (March 21-April 19)
Lately it seems like every time you open your mouth something terrible happens. Don't be alarmed: What you're suffering from is known as "food poisoning."
Bored At The Helm
A little bit bored at the front desk today, so it seems time to post random things I am finding online.
Baby Rice
Reminds me of working on that video with Tom and Ron...
UFO in texas pursued by military jets, say witnesses
Garbage truck converted to mobile home
HOWTO Make a magic fireball (flaming oily rag) -- UPDATED
Photos of Australian Tesla coil enthusiasts
Nanohazard symbol design competition
Movie mogul's answer to downloading: PSAs by Shia LaBeouf
My OpenCongress: track every bill and lawmaker in Congress
Wedding cake clone of bride
China's Ice and Snow World 2007
Woman who OD'd sues drug dealer
Lord of the Candy Rings
Probably the best news I've heard all week...
Ford Motors... ridiculous
Pirate Party!
Over-Uzi, Please
Plan 9 will never be the same
ZZ Top ain't got nothin' on these guys
Get fat, buy stuff
Octopi love Mr. Potatohead
The Letter E is Purple
And, of course, the best soft drink Scotland has to offer.
Thanks to Boing Boing, Salon, and the Flying Scotsman.
Oh yeah, and this one brings to mind half of my friends...
Baby Rice
Reminds me of working on that video with Tom and Ron...
UFO in texas pursued by military jets, say witnesses
Garbage truck converted to mobile home
HOWTO Make a magic fireball (flaming oily rag) -- UPDATED
Photos of Australian Tesla coil enthusiasts
Nanohazard symbol design competition
Movie mogul's answer to downloading: PSAs by Shia LaBeouf
My OpenCongress: track every bill and lawmaker in Congress
Wedding cake clone of bride
China's Ice and Snow World 2007
Woman who OD'd sues drug dealer
Lord of the Candy Rings
Probably the best news I've heard all week...
Ford Motors... ridiculous
Pirate Party!
Over-Uzi, Please
Plan 9 will never be the same
ZZ Top ain't got nothin' on these guys
Get fat, buy stuff
Octopi love Mr. Potatohead
The Letter E is Purple
And, of course, the best soft drink Scotland has to offer.
Thanks to Boing Boing, Salon, and the Flying Scotsman.
Oh yeah, and this one brings to mind half of my friends...
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