Even though it was thunder and lightning outside, I ignored the weather reports, strapped my bike to my car and headed to the north shore. Just as I got there, the sun came out and I went riding. Lets see. That makes the score:
Me: 1 God: 1,652,294
Hey, I'm catching up!
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
profile
I've got an hour to get to work. That muzak is boring into my brain. It's one of those insidious virus like tunes that target and destroy inhibitory neurons, allowing itself to multiply, loop around, and play endlessly in my head:
I gotta pocket gotta pocket full of sunshine, whoa… whoa oh oh
Alright, tune it out. I can do this. I shop quick. Just got to maneuver around the intra mall traffic of the undead. No problem. First kiosk: first obstacle. As I approach, this supra pretty, lanky, sales girl's eyes light up.
"Excuse me, do you have a minute?" she asks.
I'm kind of tall and walk at a very fast pace. So I do a sort of stutter step to slow down and respond.
"Sorry, I'm really in a rush. I'm not interested"
"But you don't even know what I'm selling" she said has she beamed me with her pheromone ray and broad smile.
From a quick glimpse I could see the kiosk was full of body sprays and stuff.
"That's ok, I don't use those things. I'm really in a rush, sorry." I said as I re-quickened my pace.
"Try that shit on me. I've been impervious for the last 10 years." I thought.
Back to my quest. Two pairs of cargo pants and a pair of casual shoes. Ok, nothing in Sears, There's an Abercrombie and Fitch, maybe they have the pants. As soon as I walk in the door, I'm confronted by some half naked boy toy, some retailer's attempt at homo-erotic marketing.
"How are you today" he says.
Instantly, I feel the need to macho up.
"How you dooin?" I reply about half an octave lower than my normal tambre, the worst of my New York accent bleeding through. You hear that world? I'm not gay! Anyway, I spin my head around a few times to see what clothes are available.
"What the fuck was I thinking coming in here?" I said to myself.
Out again and moving on. Unbelievably Macy's had what I was looking for. Time to leave. So as I was speeding out the mall, I passed that same kiosk again. But this time the crowd around it caused me to slow up. A herd of smiling, middle aged, balding, nerdy, self conscious, pudgy, ex bed-wetting super dorks were happily emptying their wallets. Oh, now I see. No wonder that girl's eye's lit up the second she saw me. I fit the profile. Ok, ok. I get it. Oh well. It turns out that I'm not so impervious after all.
I gotta pocket gotta pocket full of sunshine, whoa… whoa oh oh
Alright, tune it out. I can do this. I shop quick. Just got to maneuver around the intra mall traffic of the undead. No problem. First kiosk: first obstacle. As I approach, this supra pretty, lanky, sales girl's eyes light up.
"Excuse me, do you have a minute?" she asks.
I'm kind of tall and walk at a very fast pace. So I do a sort of stutter step to slow down and respond.
"Sorry, I'm really in a rush. I'm not interested"
"But you don't even know what I'm selling" she said has she beamed me with her pheromone ray and broad smile.
From a quick glimpse I could see the kiosk was full of body sprays and stuff.
"That's ok, I don't use those things. I'm really in a rush, sorry." I said as I re-quickened my pace.
"Try that shit on me. I've been impervious for the last 10 years." I thought.
Back to my quest. Two pairs of cargo pants and a pair of casual shoes. Ok, nothing in Sears, There's an Abercrombie and Fitch, maybe they have the pants. As soon as I walk in the door, I'm confronted by some half naked boy toy, some retailer's attempt at homo-erotic marketing.
"How are you today" he says.
Instantly, I feel the need to macho up.
"How you dooin?" I reply about half an octave lower than my normal tambre, the worst of my New York accent bleeding through. You hear that world? I'm not gay! Anyway, I spin my head around a few times to see what clothes are available.
"What the fuck was I thinking coming in here?" I said to myself.
Out again and moving on. Unbelievably Macy's had what I was looking for. Time to leave. So as I was speeding out the mall, I passed that same kiosk again. But this time the crowd around it caused me to slow up. A herd of smiling, middle aged, balding, nerdy, self conscious, pudgy, ex bed-wetting super dorks were happily emptying their wallets. Oh, now I see. No wonder that girl's eye's lit up the second she saw me. I fit the profile. Ok, ok. I get it. Oh well. It turns out that I'm not so impervious after all.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
better
Well, my last job didn’t work out. So I moved on to something a little more fulfilling. I purchase third world children for celebrities. And let me tell you, they have very particular tastes. Madonna’s looking for something in a toffee/mocha mix to match the Dupioni drapes in her west side duplex. And Christ did she fly off the handle when I suggested she try a domestic blend. On the other hand, Brad and Angelina are a little easier to deal with. They’re just looking for a couple of Indo-Guyanese toddlers to complete their living international chess set. Hold on. I have to take this call,
“Talk to me... NO, NO, NO!!! You tell mister Loc the going rate is 2 cows. And if he thinks he can do any better, remind him about the glut in the post tsunami market. Ok, ok. Talk to you later. Chao!”
Jesus, it makes you think some people just don’t want a better life for their children!
“Talk to me... NO, NO, NO!!! You tell mister Loc the going rate is 2 cows. And if he thinks he can do any better, remind him about the glut in the post tsunami market. Ok, ok. Talk to you later. Chao!”
Jesus, it makes you think some people just don’t want a better life for their children!
Thursday, July 3, 2008
shoe
As I was heading out the door today, I spent about five minutes looking for my pocket comb. Then it hit me. Me looking for a comb is like a double amputee looking for his right shoe. Perhaps it's my "phantom" comb-over acting up again. Anyway, some itches never go away. And remember: for bald people, every day is a bad hair day.
shared
It's amazing how myspace can help you discover that you have similar hopes and dreams with seemingly vastly different people from across the world. Common connections that let us know we are all just branches on the eternal tree of life. For example, just look at me and Katie Holmes. We've both shared the same life-long ambition. That is: to marry someone who we used to masturbate over in high school.
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