tommorrow i'll begin to compete w/ a local business man.
he can be often found sitting in his wheel chair , making remarkably loud and equally remarkably accurate animal cries- wolf, sea lion and otter cries are his best. he sells individual cigarettes to the community (regardless of their age ).
yesterday i saw one of these transactions take place. two newports @50 cents each. 50 cents each! the whole pack of 20 cigarettes probably goes for 6 dollars... this is quite a mark up.
tommorrow morning you can find me on a pogo stick selling cigarettes @ 35 to 40 cents a pop replete with my renditions of owl, monkey and cicada noises... fuck looking for a job on craigslist.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
(more old stuff). my reunion with the big mac.
having been a vegetarian for over 4 years (&recently had begun eating meat again) it had been a long time since i had tried items (other than fries)from macdonald's.
it was late in the evening . i went to get cash from a local atm when i spotted the golden arches and decided to bask in their glory ;partaking in the splendor and rapture bestowed upon each ever-consistent and nostalgic bite of my fondly remembered friend ...the big mac.
this mcdonald's was vast and bright .from the door to the register was a good half a block... (no shit ).the smells and sounds made sense again .the muzak was bumping something that was simultaneously & unmemorable, yet unforgettable-a 'timeless classic'for sure.
1/4 of a block into the establishment (1/2 way in other words),there were 2 college girls (presumably from n.y.u.).one was holding her friends hair,as the other heaved and vommitted something in the order of pints of a substance resembling kimchee-soy-pale ale-w/red bell peppers.
i didnt ask if they were ok. the situation seemed under control.
i actually proceeded to the counter and placed an order.i was rather shocked @ the pull the big mac had over the faculties of my physiology and basic decision making. others walked by& stopped, watched,asked "is she ok?",and proceeded to the counter to place their orders.
i sat and ate (30 feet away or so).2 women seemed to take much interest in the phenomenon ;watching,advising ,making suggestions on how to hold her friends head ,etc.every minute or so there was the violent sound of her body wringing itself of the toxins.
the staff was digusted and had no interest in dealing w/ the issue.they looked on and muttered about how digusting it was and that this was a restaurant.
the big mac and fries were as they always were.
between bites i thought about: how wierd it is that i stayed to eat ;the power of the olfactory sense in memory ;the wierd/ modern detachement expressed in my assertion to eat in the place where the subtext is BIG ,BRIGHT TASTY,FUN...ALWAYS...even as someone is puking a mere sand granule's throw away ;that there wasnt anything i could do for someone vomitting like that;what my threshold was ...could i eat 15 feet from her ,5 feet,one seat over ? ,that i had briefly spoken w/ and complimented the guy who made SUPERSIZE ME (not but 4 days prior) in a bar near my house,& what other crazy things have transpired in the multitude of macdonald's throughout this land.
one things for certain.
if you can't hold your liquor, macdonald's will.
it was late in the evening . i went to get cash from a local atm when i spotted the golden arches and decided to bask in their glory ;partaking in the splendor and rapture bestowed upon each ever-consistent and nostalgic bite of my fondly remembered friend ...the big mac.
this mcdonald's was vast and bright .from the door to the register was a good half a block... (no shit ).the smells and sounds made sense again .the muzak was bumping something that was simultaneously & unmemorable, yet unforgettable-a 'timeless classic'for sure.
1/4 of a block into the establishment (1/2 way in other words),there were 2 college girls (presumably from n.y.u.).one was holding her friends hair,as the other heaved and vommitted something in the order of pints of a substance resembling kimchee-soy-pale ale-w/red bell peppers.
i didnt ask if they were ok. the situation seemed under control.
i actually proceeded to the counter and placed an order.i was rather shocked @ the pull the big mac had over the faculties of my physiology and basic decision making. others walked by& stopped, watched,asked "is she ok?",and proceeded to the counter to place their orders.
i sat and ate (30 feet away or so).2 women seemed to take much interest in the phenomenon ;watching,advising ,making suggestions on how to hold her friends head ,etc.every minute or so there was the violent sound of her body wringing itself of the toxins.
the staff was digusted and had no interest in dealing w/ the issue.they looked on and muttered about how digusting it was and that this was a restaurant.
the big mac and fries were as they always were.
between bites i thought about: how wierd it is that i stayed to eat ;the power of the olfactory sense in memory ;the wierd/ modern detachement expressed in my assertion to eat in the place where the subtext is BIG ,BRIGHT TASTY,FUN...ALWAYS...even as someone is puking a mere sand granule's throw away ;that there wasnt anything i could do for someone vomitting like that;what my threshold was ...could i eat 15 feet from her ,5 feet,one seat over ? ,that i had briefly spoken w/ and complimented the guy who made SUPERSIZE ME (not but 4 days prior) in a bar near my house,& what other crazy things have transpired in the multitude of macdonald's throughout this land.
one things for certain.
if you can't hold your liquor, macdonald's will.
jesus juice and fraudulence
part I
today i tasted some wines from a rep. and producer (that'll remain nameless).
everything had a great nose, but super flabbed out flavor. the pinot bianco was the only decent thing ( herbacious and minerally, some butter ).
i tried about 8 wines - all of whose flavors did not represent that which i smelled . the schiava ( vernatsch , if your german ) , smelled great and gamey but ultimately it tasted like water. maybe it's supposed to be this way ... maybe not.
i would feel comfortable serving this wine to an octogenarian on their deathbed or to anyone i babysit for.
part II
so my fraud idea for the month is the following.
• create a fake 501c3 non-profit organization ( from home ).
• then, use the free postage to start dispatching videos throughout the community, creating a lo-fi pirate netflix like system ; dispatching burnt dvd-r's of rent worthy titles from a heavily stocked archive.
someone really brave/stupid please go and try it !!!!
today i tasted some wines from a rep. and producer (that'll remain nameless).
everything had a great nose, but super flabbed out flavor. the pinot bianco was the only decent thing ( herbacious and minerally, some butter ).
i tried about 8 wines - all of whose flavors did not represent that which i smelled . the schiava ( vernatsch , if your german ) , smelled great and gamey but ultimately it tasted like water. maybe it's supposed to be this way ... maybe not.
i would feel comfortable serving this wine to an octogenarian on their deathbed or to anyone i babysit for.
part II
so my fraud idea for the month is the following.
• create a fake 501c3 non-profit organization ( from home ).
• then, use the free postage to start dispatching videos throughout the community, creating a lo-fi pirate netflix like system ; dispatching burnt dvd-r's of rent worthy titles from a heavily stocked archive.
someone really brave/stupid please go and try it !!!!
Monday, August 13, 2007
( old stuff ) . THE ATM POO STORY
i was a bored young man(17 ,i think),going through a period of mild asceticism;eschewing drugs &alcohol,recently dropped out of highschool,working @ a bakery,reading self-help books,occasionally fantasizing about becoming an accomplished unicyclist...you get the picture ,a bored young man.
late one evening ,(probably closer to 12a.m.) i was walking home with a dear friend, (to protect his innocence, he'll be referred to as"john", let's say).so john & i had caught the last pittsburg train back home& exited @the pleasant hill station.we had quite a walk back to my parent's home.these walks generally involved shoplifting @safeway,the desacration of churches w/magnum markers,singing really loud,psycho-geographic experiments involving porch furniture ,gnomes or anything not fixed to the ground in people's yards,wrestling(slow motion or@ regular speed),&conversations that covered a myriad of topics .
john was telling some really engaging story& i was doing my best to listen ,but my body kept distracting me...i needed to poo badly...i needed too poo badly...ineeded to poo oh sooooo badly.
there we were infront of the wells fargo on treat &oakgrove (next to ygnacio valley high school).he, occasionally waving a finger saying "that's kind of fucked up what your doin to your self bro,holding it in like that you should just go somewhere.''& i ,standing there w/ my legs firmly crossed debating wether or not to heed his counsel.moments passed and his arguments for me pooing were quite compelling;he went on this diatribe about how it's terrible for my physiology,my body wants it out " its waste...", "those are toxins your body does'nt need...", "i think this could be a metaphor for something else & i hate to see you treat yourself this way." i told him about how i dont like to poo in public & that the only time i had done it was pretty traumatic.it was @the santa cruz beach "bored" walk,i held out for a while ,but in the arcade palace i made the mistake of trying to beat the arm wrestling machine ,which forced me to use the restroom caked in uriney sand.my logic was failing me and it was becoming apparent that i needed to experience a change & that walking home was not an option .then we(actually probably john) had the brilliant idea of 'killing two birds w/ one stone' by tearing the back of his spiralbound mead notebook& using it as a platter for me to poo upon ,later to smear it on wells fargo's atm!!!!!!!
the laughter only made things worse .i ducked behind a hedge next to the atm(w/ notebook in tow) and immediately produced a "pleasant hill". i felt so much better! i wiped on some unwritten pages and pulled up my pants w/ glee ,eager for part two of the process.
"dre , be cool .there's a cop in the middle of the parking lot,just be mellow ,its cool bro."
no shit. there he was in the middle of the treat plaza parking lot.how long had he been there?the whole time?just recently?how the fuck did we miss him in the middle of the parking lot?w the fog lights on no less.concord's finest saw that we had noticed him & he slowlydrove towards us and stepped out of the car.
"what are you guys doin'?it's pretty late ,you guys have been he for quite awhile ."he said, as he did the standard pupil checking gaze ."nothin',just on our way home .its a nice night just talking ,but we're close by we can leave .did'nt mean to trouble you" john said. he flashed his light around the ground ,inspected the atm for tampering ,and looked @ our eyes again."no,what are you doing.why hang out at an atm for five minutes? do you even have an account here?" he asked . we started giggling ."nah,just talking ."i said .i began to buckle the pressure was too much ,notions of rigorous honesty started to creep in @the wrong time."honestly,why here?'' he asked again."honestly?" i said."yes ." he said."well , ihad to go to the bathroom" ."uh huh.like peeing?" "yeah " .john laughed as the officer flashed his light behind the hedge and found the cardboard notebook backing w/ giant turd on top.
"ah jeez"he shook his head.and asked us where we lived,and to produce identification. he was making notes in his little pad,and it was looking like he was just gonna document our info &let us go after having me throw it in the trash.
another police officer drove by, saw us and decided to turn around and make sure the situation was under control.he was considerably less mellow about the whole thing."oh thats sick!no, thats just disgusting." "it's on cardboard.you were going to throw that at the atm!no no no ,we cant let that go .call his parents."
there was my name getting rattled off into his shoulder"mary, adam, robert...".i told him my phone number ...i got nervous .john was telling me it was gonna be ok. we sat at the curb listening to the hum of the idling patrol cars.watching them shake their heads in disgust, recieving & dispatching information regarding my feces in the highly official & highly codified language of the law. MALICIOUS MAYHEM ATTEMPT ON AN ATM was the charge."...and tell him to bring a bag." they had contacted my father. we waited curbside as i recieved a lecture about how disturbed i was.finally my father showed up. i felt terrible waking him up over this shit & feared what his reaction(s) might be.the 2nd officer approached the car and explained the situation to my burgundy robe- donning dad, who was calmly processing the information relayed to him, and giving affirmative nods @key points in the report. he popped the trunk."andres .come here, get a bag and pick it up." ordered the officer.in the trunk there were 6 hefty lawn trimming bags(...my dad is a man who is super prepared for most anything).after putting the poo mound in a bag ,i headed toward the kobblestone trash receptacle @the bank."oh no you dont. not here. you take that w/ you . thats yours to deal w/.you think the people @the bank or the customers are gonna want to smell that?'' again one final "thats just disgusting''.
my dad was silent the whole car ride home.john kept appologizing to try to cut the tension."sorry for waking you up, this is so silly" .we parked. "put it in the outside trashcan ,but put it in the other bags first.i'm going to bed." "sorry papa".he was so mellow about the whole thing; it was shocking. my mom got out of bed and went to the hallway squinting as her eyes acclimated to the entrance light."whats going on?" she asked my father.
"nothing". he said."he was just making a deposit".
late one evening ,(probably closer to 12a.m.) i was walking home with a dear friend, (to protect his innocence, he'll be referred to as"john", let's say).so john & i had caught the last pittsburg train back home& exited @the pleasant hill station.we had quite a walk back to my parent's home.these walks generally involved shoplifting @safeway,the desacration of churches w/magnum markers,singing really loud,psycho-geographic experiments involving porch furniture ,gnomes or anything not fixed to the ground in people's yards,wrestling(slow motion or@ regular speed),&conversations that covered a myriad of topics .
john was telling some really engaging story& i was doing my best to listen ,but my body kept distracting me...i needed to poo badly...i needed too poo badly...ineeded to poo oh sooooo badly.
there we were infront of the wells fargo on treat &oakgrove (next to ygnacio valley high school).he, occasionally waving a finger saying "that's kind of fucked up what your doin to your self bro,holding it in like that you should just go somewhere.''& i ,standing there w/ my legs firmly crossed debating wether or not to heed his counsel.moments passed and his arguments for me pooing were quite compelling;he went on this diatribe about how it's terrible for my physiology,my body wants it out " its waste...", "those are toxins your body does'nt need...", "i think this could be a metaphor for something else & i hate to see you treat yourself this way." i told him about how i dont like to poo in public & that the only time i had done it was pretty traumatic.it was @the santa cruz beach "bored" walk,i held out for a while ,but in the arcade palace i made the mistake of trying to beat the arm wrestling machine ,which forced me to use the restroom caked in uriney sand.my logic was failing me and it was becoming apparent that i needed to experience a change & that walking home was not an option .then we(actually probably john) had the brilliant idea of 'killing two birds w/ one stone' by tearing the back of his spiralbound mead notebook& using it as a platter for me to poo upon ,later to smear it on wells fargo's atm!!!!!!!
the laughter only made things worse .i ducked behind a hedge next to the atm(w/ notebook in tow) and immediately produced a "pleasant hill". i felt so much better! i wiped on some unwritten pages and pulled up my pants w/ glee ,eager for part two of the process.
"dre , be cool .there's a cop in the middle of the parking lot,just be mellow ,its cool bro."
no shit. there he was in the middle of the treat plaza parking lot.how long had he been there?the whole time?just recently?how the fuck did we miss him in the middle of the parking lot?w the fog lights on no less.concord's finest saw that we had noticed him & he slowlydrove towards us and stepped out of the car.
"what are you guys doin'?it's pretty late ,you guys have been he for quite awhile ."he said, as he did the standard pupil checking gaze ."nothin',just on our way home .its a nice night just talking ,but we're close by we can leave .did'nt mean to trouble you" john said. he flashed his light around the ground ,inspected the atm for tampering ,and looked @ our eyes again."no,what are you doing.why hang out at an atm for five minutes? do you even have an account here?" he asked . we started giggling ."nah,just talking ."i said .i began to buckle the pressure was too much ,notions of rigorous honesty started to creep in @the wrong time."honestly,why here?'' he asked again."honestly?" i said."yes ." he said."well , ihad to go to the bathroom" ."uh huh.like peeing?" "yeah " .john laughed as the officer flashed his light behind the hedge and found the cardboard notebook backing w/ giant turd on top.
"ah jeez"he shook his head.and asked us where we lived,and to produce identification. he was making notes in his little pad,and it was looking like he was just gonna document our info &let us go after having me throw it in the trash.
another police officer drove by, saw us and decided to turn around and make sure the situation was under control.he was considerably less mellow about the whole thing."oh thats sick!no, thats just disgusting." "it's on cardboard.you were going to throw that at the atm!no no no ,we cant let that go .call his parents."
there was my name getting rattled off into his shoulder"mary, adam, robert...".i told him my phone number ...i got nervous .john was telling me it was gonna be ok. we sat at the curb listening to the hum of the idling patrol cars.watching them shake their heads in disgust, recieving & dispatching information regarding my feces in the highly official & highly codified language of the law. MALICIOUS MAYHEM ATTEMPT ON AN ATM was the charge."...and tell him to bring a bag." they had contacted my father. we waited curbside as i recieved a lecture about how disturbed i was.finally my father showed up. i felt terrible waking him up over this shit & feared what his reaction(s) might be.the 2nd officer approached the car and explained the situation to my burgundy robe- donning dad, who was calmly processing the information relayed to him, and giving affirmative nods @key points in the report. he popped the trunk."andres .come here, get a bag and pick it up." ordered the officer.in the trunk there were 6 hefty lawn trimming bags(...my dad is a man who is super prepared for most anything).after putting the poo mound in a bag ,i headed toward the kobblestone trash receptacle @the bank."oh no you dont. not here. you take that w/ you . thats yours to deal w/.you think the people @the bank or the customers are gonna want to smell that?'' again one final "thats just disgusting''.
my dad was silent the whole car ride home.john kept appologizing to try to cut the tension."sorry for waking you up, this is so silly" .we parked. "put it in the outside trashcan ,but put it in the other bags first.i'm going to bed." "sorry papa".he was so mellow about the whole thing; it was shocking. my mom got out of bed and went to the hallway squinting as her eyes acclimated to the entrance light."whats going on?" she asked my father.
"nothing". he said."he was just making a deposit".
introductions and the name thing
hello ,
in an effort to postpone walking in the heat to gather barbeque supplies for this evening, i was taken by the compulsion to open a blog account here.
i look foward to reading blogs and sharing things w/ you.
i wish to clarify the issue of my name aswell.
the issue will remain confusing.
it's an invitation, you can decide whether i am to be known as :
1). too theater
2). toot heater
or
3). tooth eater
ok,
bye
in an effort to postpone walking in the heat to gather barbeque supplies for this evening, i was taken by the compulsion to open a blog account here.
i look foward to reading blogs and sharing things w/ you.
i wish to clarify the issue of my name aswell.
the issue will remain confusing.
it's an invitation, you can decide whether i am to be known as :
1). too theater
2). toot heater
or
3). tooth eater
ok,
bye
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