8:30 am. Before a 5 hour Sons Of Susan road trip to perform at Ryan's wedding in Michigan, Alan and I took a minute to know about the bird while waiting in a parking lot outside of a big white van. Here is evidence and proof that we were about to embark on something magical.
Trust me, there is enough material from this weekend to fill a book. I will tell you all about it as soon as I am done moving. Cheers.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
For Those With No Interest In Sin - or - I Just Wanna See Something Spin
If you came here for a cool video and not a long winded lecture on how long or bright I will burn, here's one I really like.
The future is now.
The future is now.
Seven Deadly Sins Project #2: The First Few Sins Are Just A Warm Up
I carry around a little black book and put check marks next to my deadly sins as I commit them. I call it, The Seven Deadly Sins Project. Here is the tally so far.
Lust – 6
Wrath – 3
Gluttony – 3
Greed – 0
Pride – 5
Envy – 4
Sloth – 2
Obviously, lust is getting the better of me. But before you react in your oh-so-predictable way by saying that I should get a hobby like building model airplane or by saying that I'll go blind if I don't stop doing that, let’s go over some basic ideology here. Lust doesn’t mean I’m banging everything in sight, even though this lamp looks like it could use a good rogering. According to wikipedia, lust “is usually thought of as involving obsessive or excessive thoughts or desires of a sexual nature.” This means that lust isn’t an action, but more of a distracting internal flash of lewd thoughts or breath stopping images that lures one away from a more pure train of thought. I figured that 80-95% of the time that I spend awake, I spend being distracted by beautiful women. That might also include time I spend asleep, come to think of it. But it doesn’t make me evil to think this way; it makes me horny. Once I figured that out, I started to wonder if I really wanted to keep track of every time that I was so overwhelmingly distracted by a woman that I would say to myself, “that’s a sin, and if it’s not, just add a bucket of friend chicken, a toilet bowl brush, an accordion, and a snorkel and flippers to make sure it is a sin.” But in real life, I don’t stop myself for thinking lewd thoughts to put a check mark down in my little black book. I think the thought through its logical end point (a hot wife, a huge house on the beach, 2.5 loving children that will do my bidding, and a huge pile of money and diamonds) and then come back to reality with a little smile on my face. If I just happen to catch a glimpse of a beautiful woman in a low cut dress, dancing her butt off at one of the weddings I attend weekly, am I really supposed to look the other way, whip myself on the back till I bleed and mumble “Impure! Impure! Shame! Shame!” Nope. I’m supposed to picture her naked, with a pair of handcuffs in one hand and a Chicago style hot dog in the other. That’s what balls are for.
I’ve been trying to keep track of some of the more interesting instances of my sinner ways. Here are some highlights from the first few days. Note that not all sins are accounted for. There are two reasons for this.
1) I sin and there is no morality or humor to be found in it.
2) Surreptitiousness.
10/21
Envy – A coworker had a homemade meatloaf sandwich. It smelled fantastic. I wanted to poke her in the eye and steal it. By the end of my lunch break, she gave me a bite. I didn’t know heaven fit between two slices of bread.
Lust – I brought a date to see Devil in a Woodpile. I began to force myself to yawn to get the point across that I was too tired to stay for their second set. I brought her home between sets, said goodnight, and returned to the show because I wanted to talk to two other cute girls at the show that winked at me. They ended up wanting to talk about astrology, so I ditched them and got drunk with SexFist at the RedLine Tap.
Sloth – Getting drunk with SexFist will sure make you feel slovenly.
10/22
Lust – Woke up with “questionable content” on my computer screen.
Sloth – 10 minutes late for work after hitting the snooze button repeatedly for an hour, and then being distracted by afore mentioned “questionable content”.
Gluttony – At lunch, I had a chicken Torta, a King Sized steak Burrito, a Chorizo taco, and a large horchata. I bought all this because the Mexican joint doesn’t take credit cards for orders less than $10 and everything on the menu costs $1.75. I didn’t have to eat it all, but I did.
Lust – “Questionable content” was still on my screen when I returned home from work.
Side note – I recycled 10 large garbage bags full of Styrofoam peanuts that otherwise would have go into the dumpsters. That’s gotta clear me of at least a couple sloths and a glutton or two, right?
10/23
Pride – I wrote a Rolling Stones medley for a wedding that The Sons Of Susan have been hired to play. After tons of micromanaging, the tune sounds fantanstic. I felt proud. We will no doubt screw it up at the wedding… that, and the first dance… and then the rest of the night. I love weddings.
Pride – I dropped a huge poo in someone else’s house. I then proceeded to stand in awe of my accomplishment, with the bathroom fan on, for a good five minutes. This sin links directly back to Gluttony, which is apparently a gateway sin.
Envy – A near and dear friend of mine went out to lunch with his whole office where they all proceeded to get drunk together and, upon returning to work, got nothing accomplished on account of the entire office being “buzzed” and, instead, watched The Office.
10/24
Pride – An X-lover told me via IM that she still listens to music that I introduced her to. She asked me if that made me proud. I said, “Pride is a deadly sin,” which was closely followed with “yes, it does.”
Wrath – Said X asked me if “it was ok for [her] to still read my blog,” even though she doesn’t want to talk to me or contact me. That type of behavior would “hurt [her] sweetheart.” So, in essence, she anonymously keeps tabs on me via one of my creative outlets, can regularly laugh along with what I share of my life from a distance, and can see the world the way I see it, but the second she shows me a hint of interest in my life outside of these rants, it damages her current relationship. That pissed me off. I see it as selfish and childish to believe that peeking in on me is innocent but telling me that you are peeking is disrespectful to your new boyfriend. Bullshit. There is more here, lady. My answer to her question is this. “Yes, you can still read my blog. I would never want to stop you from reading it, but don’t be surprised if something like these last few sentences gets tossed your way.” Wrath is gonna be a tough one for me to keep under control.
Glutton – Arby’s Beef, Bacon and Cheddar melt. Nuff said.
Wrath – Finding parking in Naperville on Friday night means contending with enough BMW, Mercedes, Lexus, and Audi owners for one of the fourteen parking spots in Naperville. All the drivers in this town needed to be yelled at for being idiots. I proudly took up the job.
Pride – I was the only person / nerdfighter, out of more than 200, at John Green’s Paper Towns book signing that had a beard. His response to this observation was something along the lines of, "If all the nerdfighters were 16, I don't think that we'd accomplish much."
Pride – I briefly explained to John Green, who is a privately religious man, what this Seven Deadly Sins Project was about and then asked him to sign my list of sins under pride. He replied, “If you’ve only been guilty of the sin of pride four times in a month, you’re doing pretty well.” I told him it was day three. He laughed as he became check mark number five.
Lust – 6
Wrath – 3
Gluttony – 3
Greed – 0
Pride – 5
Envy – 4
Sloth – 2
Obviously, lust is getting the better of me. But before you react in your oh-so-predictable way by saying that I should get a hobby like building model airplane or by saying that I'll go blind if I don't stop doing that, let’s go over some basic ideology here. Lust doesn’t mean I’m banging everything in sight, even though this lamp looks like it could use a good rogering. According to wikipedia, lust “is usually thought of as involving obsessive or excessive thoughts or desires of a sexual nature.” This means that lust isn’t an action, but more of a distracting internal flash of lewd thoughts or breath stopping images that lures one away from a more pure train of thought. I figured that 80-95% of the time that I spend awake, I spend being distracted by beautiful women. That might also include time I spend asleep, come to think of it. But it doesn’t make me evil to think this way; it makes me horny. Once I figured that out, I started to wonder if I really wanted to keep track of every time that I was so overwhelmingly distracted by a woman that I would say to myself, “that’s a sin, and if it’s not, just add a bucket of friend chicken, a toilet bowl brush, an accordion, and a snorkel and flippers to make sure it is a sin.” But in real life, I don’t stop myself for thinking lewd thoughts to put a check mark down in my little black book. I think the thought through its logical end point (a hot wife, a huge house on the beach, 2.5 loving children that will do my bidding, and a huge pile of money and diamonds) and then come back to reality with a little smile on my face. If I just happen to catch a glimpse of a beautiful woman in a low cut dress, dancing her butt off at one of the weddings I attend weekly, am I really supposed to look the other way, whip myself on the back till I bleed and mumble “Impure! Impure! Shame! Shame!” Nope. I’m supposed to picture her naked, with a pair of handcuffs in one hand and a Chicago style hot dog in the other. That’s what balls are for.
I’ve been trying to keep track of some of the more interesting instances of my sinner ways. Here are some highlights from the first few days. Note that not all sins are accounted for. There are two reasons for this.
1) I sin and there is no morality or humor to be found in it.
2) Surreptitiousness.
Envy – A coworker had a homemade meatloaf sandwich. It smelled fantastic. I wanted to poke her in the eye and steal it. By the end of my lunch break, she gave me a bite. I didn’t know heaven fit between two slices of bread.
Lust – I brought a date to see Devil in a Woodpile. I began to force myself to yawn to get the point across that I was too tired to stay for their second set. I brought her home between sets, said goodnight, and returned to the show because I wanted to talk to two other cute girls at the show that winked at me. They ended up wanting to talk about astrology, so I ditched them and got drunk with SexFist at the RedLine Tap.
Sloth – Getting drunk with SexFist will sure make you feel slovenly.
Lust – Woke up with “questionable content” on my computer screen.
Sloth – 10 minutes late for work after hitting the snooze button repeatedly for an hour, and then being distracted by afore mentioned “questionable content”.
Gluttony – At lunch, I had a chicken Torta, a King Sized steak Burrito, a Chorizo taco, and a large horchata. I bought all this because the Mexican joint doesn’t take credit cards for orders less than $10 and everything on the menu costs $1.75. I didn’t have to eat it all, but I did.
Lust – “Questionable content” was still on my screen when I returned home from work.
Side note – I recycled 10 large garbage bags full of Styrofoam peanuts that otherwise would have go into the dumpsters. That’s gotta clear me of at least a couple sloths and a glutton or two, right?
Pride – I wrote a Rolling Stones medley for a wedding that The Sons Of Susan have been hired to play. After tons of micromanaging, the tune sounds fantanstic. I felt proud. We will no doubt screw it up at the wedding… that, and the first dance… and then the rest of the night. I love weddings.
Pride – I dropped a huge poo in someone else’s house. I then proceeded to stand in awe of my accomplishment, with the bathroom fan on, for a good five minutes. This sin links directly back to Gluttony, which is apparently a gateway sin.
Envy – A near and dear friend of mine went out to lunch with his whole office where they all proceeded to get drunk together and, upon returning to work, got nothing accomplished on account of the entire office being “buzzed” and, instead, watched The Office.
Pride – An X-lover told me via IM that she still listens to music that I introduced her to. She asked me if that made me proud. I said, “Pride is a deadly sin,” which was closely followed with “yes, it does.”
Wrath – Said X asked me if “it was ok for [her] to still read my blog,” even though she doesn’t want to talk to me or contact me. That type of behavior would “hurt [her] sweetheart.” So, in essence, she anonymously keeps tabs on me via one of my creative outlets, can regularly laugh along with what I share of my life from a distance, and can see the world the way I see it, but the second she shows me a hint of interest in my life outside of these rants, it damages her current relationship. That pissed me off. I see it as selfish and childish to believe that peeking in on me is innocent but telling me that you are peeking is disrespectful to your new boyfriend. Bullshit. There is more here, lady. My answer to her question is this. “Yes, you can still read my blog. I would never want to stop you from reading it, but don’t be surprised if something like these last few sentences gets tossed your way.” Wrath is gonna be a tough one for me to keep under control.
Glutton – Arby’s Beef, Bacon and Cheddar melt. Nuff said.
Wrath – Finding parking in Naperville on Friday night means contending with enough BMW, Mercedes, Lexus, and Audi owners for one of the fourteen parking spots in Naperville. All the drivers in this town needed to be yelled at for being idiots. I proudly took up the job.
Pride – I was the only person / nerdfighter, out of more than 200, at John Green’s Paper Towns book signing that had a beard. His response to this observation was something along the lines of, "If all the nerdfighters were 16, I don't think that we'd accomplish much."
Pride – I briefly explained to John Green, who is a privately religious man, what this Seven Deadly Sins Project was about and then asked him to sign my list of sins under pride. He replied, “If you’ve only been guilty of the sin of pride four times in a month, you’re doing pretty well.” I told him it was day three. He laughed as he became check mark number five.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Seven Deadly Sins Project Part #1: This Project Is Spelled With A Capital Vice
When it rains, it pours. What also happens when it rains? Well, first off, not a lot of people think, “This is perfect weather for going to go house plant shopping.” If there is an economic crisis while it’s raining, even fewer people head towards the greenhouse. In essence, when it rains, it pours and people stay inside and I get bored at work. I had some free time on my hands during the rain earlier this week, and you know what they say about idle hands. I needed something to do, so I tried to remember the Seven Deadly Sins, or the Cardinal Sins, or the Capital Vices. I found it easier to remember them if I wrote them down. Lust, Wrath, Gluttony, Greed, Pride, Envy, Sloth. It actually took me an hour or so to remember them all. The paper on which I wrote them down was long and narrow, so it kind of looked like a shopping list.
“I need 4 cans of Wrath, a box of Envy, a big ol’ jug of Gluttony, and three pounds of sliced Lust. Some garden fresh Sloth sounds nice. Oh yeah, I can’t forget the shaved Greed and crushed Pride.”
Having this shopping list got me thinking about our American / Capitalist culture and how it seems that the entertainment for the masses these days focuses on as many of these sins as possible, as often as possible, all at once. The penultimate example I can think of is the MTV show, “My Super Sweet 16,” which is second only to live coverage of the House of Representatives on CSPAN. But there is no room here to rant about stupid television shows that I do not watch on purpose, or politics. There is room for a little statistic taking, though. Here’s my idea.
1) I will have a small black notebook and a pen on my person, at all times. The first seven pages of this notebook will contain my shopping list of deadly sins.
2) I will record a slash for each sin I commit as I feel I commit them. I have asked a few “watch-gods” to catch me if I miss one or two.
3) I will make records of my favorite instances of sin and post them on this website periodically.
4) At the end of two weeks, I will find an average daily rate of sin. With this info I will spend the next two weeks sinning less than average (hopefully by half, or more), and the following weeks sinning more than average (hopefully twice as often, or more) and find out which lifestyle is more fun.
There it is, the Seven Deadly Sins Project. I welcome anyone who is willing to join me in sinning up a storm in the name of Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Obsquatchiness.
“I need 4 cans of Wrath, a box of Envy, a big ol’ jug of Gluttony, and three pounds of sliced Lust. Some garden fresh Sloth sounds nice. Oh yeah, I can’t forget the shaved Greed and crushed Pride.”
Having this shopping list got me thinking about our American / Capitalist culture and how it seems that the entertainment for the masses these days focuses on as many of these sins as possible, as often as possible, all at once. The penultimate example I can think of is the MTV show, “My Super Sweet 16,” which is second only to live coverage of the House of Representatives on CSPAN. But there is no room here to rant about stupid television shows that I do not watch on purpose, or politics. There is room for a little statistic taking, though. Here’s my idea.
1) I will have a small black notebook and a pen on my person, at all times. The first seven pages of this notebook will contain my shopping list of deadly sins.
2) I will record a slash for each sin I commit as I feel I commit them. I have asked a few “watch-gods” to catch me if I miss one or two.
3) I will make records of my favorite instances of sin and post them on this website periodically.
4) At the end of two weeks, I will find an average daily rate of sin. With this info I will spend the next two weeks sinning less than average (hopefully by half, or more), and the following weeks sinning more than average (hopefully twice as often, or more) and find out which lifestyle is more fun.
There it is, the Seven Deadly Sins Project. I welcome anyone who is willing to join me in sinning up a storm in the name of Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Obsquatchiness.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
I Think I Love Golf, Finally - or - Houston, We Have A Solution
This is the funniest thing I've seen in a while from the website Urban Prankster. They take the best of the "pranks, hacks, participatory art, flash mobs, and other creative endeavors that take place in public places in cities across the world," and post it for me to say things like, "I wish I had thought of that," and "If I were there, I bet I'd meet my future wife." This one literally make me spit Guinness all over my monitor.
What else is making me laugh these days? The first third of this book that was just released on Thursday, 10/16/08.
And, when it is making me laugh, I am laughing my butt off at a somber coffee shop filled with hipsters not laughing. Holy crap, is it Friday? And I spend the night in a coffee shop? Crap. Someone remind me how to have a life.
What else is making me laugh these days? The first third of this book that was just released on Thursday, 10/16/08.
And, when it is making me laugh, I am laughing my butt off at a somber coffee shop filled with hipsters not laughing. Holy crap, is it Friday? And I spend the night in a coffee shop? Crap. Someone remind me how to have a life.
Monday, October 13, 2008
My Buddy The House Plant #5: Who Likes Life? Who Wants More Of It?
I am moving out my apartment. I am moving into my own place. It has taken me 30 years to figure out that I don’t want to live with roommates anymore, so on Oct 25th, I’m packing all of my things into boxes and walking down one flight of stairs into the apartment directly below my current one. I am literally moving 20 feet. Arguably not a big move. Here’s the only problem, I will not have a dining room. I will have a dining room but not the one I have right now, which I use as a living room because my real living room is actually my bedroom, and that moved the living room into what was the dining room, which moved the dining room into half of the kitchen, which was then filled with houseplants, along with the dining room, the living room, and my bedroom, which is the new arboretum and which also maintains living proof that the chaos theory will not get laundry folded. The kitchen / dining room of my current place has east facing windows, the living room has a huge south facing window, and my bedroom has west facing windows. I do not have blinds on any of these windows because they are filled with plants. There are plants everywhere, dammit. Everywhere.
Even Ikus prefers to sleep in the soil of the Croton plant I put in his cage.
My new apartment is about the size of my current bedroom / living room / chaos theory chamber. There are two other rooms in the new place, but one is the kitchen and one is a strange entryway-cubical which will soon become my shoe / bike / bass / fish / snake storage room. This new place does not have nearly the same amount window space, so my plants will not survive. The cactuses will die shadowy shaded little deaths and the Wandering Jew will quit wandering, give up the lowly life of a houseplant, and become an investment banker or a movie director. The Ficus will fail, the Begonia will be gone-ya, the nepenthes will turn from a pitcher plant to a catcher plant and catch some kind of plant plague, and most of my jade plants will go to the great greenhouse in the sky. That is unless you save these poor, wretched botanical souls.
In short, I am going to give away the lion’s share of my house plants. If you want one, get in touch with me and I will give you a sadistic, maniacal, abusive life form of your very own. There are only a few that I won’t give up, including the 9-foot Aralia, the 5-year-old Jade tree, the 3-stem Dracaenia Tarzana, the Staghorn plaque and the Hawarthia bowl.
What are you waiting for? Come take a tour of my personal green house and take home a part of my life, and destroy it.
Even Ikus prefers to sleep in the soil of the Croton plant I put in his cage.
My new apartment is about the size of my current bedroom / living room / chaos theory chamber. There are two other rooms in the new place, but one is the kitchen and one is a strange entryway-cubical which will soon become my shoe / bike / bass / fish / snake storage room. This new place does not have nearly the same amount window space, so my plants will not survive. The cactuses will die shadowy shaded little deaths and the Wandering Jew will quit wandering, give up the lowly life of a houseplant, and become an investment banker or a movie director. The Ficus will fail, the Begonia will be gone-ya, the nepenthes will turn from a pitcher plant to a catcher plant and catch some kind of plant plague, and most of my jade plants will go to the great greenhouse in the sky. That is unless you save these poor, wretched botanical souls.
In short, I am going to give away the lion’s share of my house plants. If you want one, get in touch with me and I will give you a sadistic, maniacal, abusive life form of your very own. There are only a few that I won’t give up, including the 9-foot Aralia, the 5-year-old Jade tree, the 3-stem Dracaenia Tarzana, the Staghorn plaque and the Hawarthia bowl.
What are you waiting for? Come take a tour of my personal green house and take home a part of my life, and destroy it.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Uplifting Songs For Chipper People – or – Let Me Drown
I didn’t put on pants today. Instead, I skipped a meeting, lied to rich woman about being able to take care of her infected cactus, thawed some frozen chicken, and wrote this song.
Lyrics:
I woke up on the floor again this morning
My wallet’s here but all my money’s gone
There’s a throbbing in my head
As I make my empty bed,
But I tie my shoes and try to move along.
The church bells down the street are softly tolling,
And someone’s mourning a loved one they held dear
And as I’m shuffling by,
A tear falls from my eye
Cause I miss that girl and wish that she was here.
Ohhhhh, let me drown
This bottle is the only friend around.
The wheels are flat but this truck still runs
My back is good, but this load weights tons
And it seems the only way to go is down.
She used to lay her head down right beside me,
She used to whisper prayers into my ear.
And I sent her on her way
And regret it most every day,
My true love’s gone and I’m still waiting here.
Now the Angel’s share is in the Devil’s hand.
And there’s darkness in the heart of every man.
Mine surrounded her bright eyes,
And snuffed them out one at a time
Now I walk along the pathway of the Damned.
Ohhhhh, let me drown
This bottle is the only friend around.
The wheels are flat but this truck still runs
My back is good, but this load weights tons
And it seems the only way to go is down.
Music and Lyrics by Obsquatch ©2008
Lyrics:
I woke up on the floor again this morning
My wallet’s here but all my money’s gone
There’s a throbbing in my head
As I make my empty bed,
But I tie my shoes and try to move along.
The church bells down the street are softly tolling,
And someone’s mourning a loved one they held dear
And as I’m shuffling by,
A tear falls from my eye
Cause I miss that girl and wish that she was here.
Ohhhhh, let me drown
This bottle is the only friend around.
The wheels are flat but this truck still runs
My back is good, but this load weights tons
And it seems the only way to go is down.
She used to lay her head down right beside me,
She used to whisper prayers into my ear.
And I sent her on her way
And regret it most every day,
My true love’s gone and I’m still waiting here.
Now the Angel’s share is in the Devil’s hand.
And there’s darkness in the heart of every man.
Mine surrounded her bright eyes,
And snuffed them out one at a time
Now I walk along the pathway of the Damned.
Ohhhhh, let me drown
This bottle is the only friend around.
The wheels are flat but this truck still runs
My back is good, but this load weights tons
And it seems the only way to go is down.
Music and Lyrics by Obsquatch ©2008
Thursday, October 02, 2008
2nd Annual Sketchy Mustache Competition - We Have A Winner
If only Nick Cave had entered, he would have won.
Shawn, you win an honest to goodness pirate flag with a fake mustache glued onto it. Wave it with pride and stay away from high schools. Send me your address and I'll send you the flag. Congrats, my friend.
Final Score
Van = 8 1/2 very impressed and mostly totally unbiased votes
Obsquatch = 13 votes from sympathetic people in meaningful relationships that wonder, "Why? What happened to him?"
Shawn = 18 1/2 votes from people who will someday be running our government. That's a vote that I can believe in.
Thanks to everyone who either didn't shave or everyone who enjoyed the results. I love you all?
Thursday, September 25, 2008
2nd Annual Sketchy Mustache End Game - or - Bust Out The Shaving Cream, I Want My Social Life Back
The 2nd Annual Sketchy Mustache Competition is coming to a close on Oct 1st at 12:01am. If you have a soul, follow the link and cast a vote. There is no question that this is a desperate attempt for attention from a desperately clean shaven man with sketchy mustache withdraw who would like nothing more than to make this silly, stupid, pointless contest mean something. So, make it something, damnit, make it mean something in your life, something bigger than it actually is. Make it something we can all believe in. Will you not help me on my quest, little man?
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
I'm Off To Walk My Brother Down The Isle - or - Never A Bridesmaid, Always A Drunk*
Tomorrow I leave for Arizona for my brother's wedding. I am ecstatic and am polishing my shoes, steaming shirts and getting my haircut by a professional (for the first time in years). So I'm a little to jittery to write some rant about how the G.O.P. is pure evil, but I'm sure that none of you have forgotten that. So instead, I'm giving you a little slide show of all the critters I've run into at the greenhouse. The fish were spawned there, but I took them home, named them (Zippy, Speeder, Toe-jam, Earl, and The Reverend Thelonious Belafonte (Adam, my brother, named that last one)) and put them in a bowl with some plants in my bedroom. I don't think they like seeing me naked, but who really does? The Shark and the Eels were at an aquarium store, I don't want a shark seeing me naked.
*Check out this very funny journal. This is where I got the idea for the title. Always a Drunk, Never a Bride
*Check out this very funny journal. This is where I got the idea for the title. Always a Drunk, Never a Bride
Friday, September 12, 2008
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
2nd Annual Sketchy Mustach Finalists - or - What Was The Friggin' Hold Up, Obsquatch
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Happy People With Hot Dogs - or - I Wish My Brain Worked Like This... Oh Wait...
Back in 2000, I moved to Boston without any money, any real work experience or any sense of reality. I lived on Swampthing’s back porch while I was getting my feet on the ground, which ended up meaning working for Scientologists... but that’s a totally different scary story. This story is about a gentleman who has become known in my circle of friends as Hobobadiopay (Hoe-boe-ba-DEE-oh-pae). I believe that his real name is Angel. He used to hang out at Powerhouse Circle in Somerville, Massachusetts, which is just outside of Medford, near Cambridge but not even close to Harvard Yard, those bastards. You know the place, just down the street from Ball Square (no, I did not make that up, Ball Square exists).
Here’s the scenario. I am walking through the Powerhouse Circle roundabout, on my way to the T to go work for the Scientologists, when I notice a balding, clearly distressed fat man sitting on a park bench on the edge of the roundabout. He is trying, in vain, to eat a hot dog. What I mean by this is that, yes, the hot dog was making it’s way into his mouth, but only after a jaunt across this guys chin, then over to his cheek and across his nose, leaving behind it an orangeish swirl trail of mustard, ketchup and relish. While he’s painting his face, his tongue is playing the part of (http://www.zamboni.com) zamboni, chasing after the dog as it eludes his gaping hole of a mouth and further mixing the topping on his face. As he is attempting to eat this hot dog, I notice that he has another one, fully loaded with condiments, in his other meat hook of a hand. He is holding this second hotdog at a 45-degree angle and the toppings are beginning to slide off the dog and collect in a thick, colorful yet stomach-turning puddle at his feet. Jackson Pollock would be proud.
Regardless,
I am crossing the street and walking right towards this fellow. He notices me walking his way and stops chasing his hot dog across his face with his tongue. As I get closer, he suddenly stands up and quickly walks towards me with a wide-eyed look of confusion and concern on his face, as well as a few coatings of ketchup, mustard and relish. We are a few feet apart and he blurts out, with a note of fear in his voice, “Hobobadiopay?!” I am stunned. I stop dead in my tracks, for two reasons. One, because I have no idea what “hobobadiopay’ means and, two, because in shouting this at me, he has inadvertently spat some rather large chunks of half chewed hot dog at me. I can smell the saltiness of his snacks hanging in the air around him. “Hobobadiopay?!” he cries again, with a bit more desperation in his voice. I shrug, smile and say, in a cheerful, friendly voice, “Hobobadiopay, Capt’n!” To my surprise and sudden amusement, his face lights up, he smiles a huge toothy / hot doggy smile, and, while spewing more hot dog juice and relish chunks, he yells “Ya think so?!” with a voice that sounds like his tongue is three times too big for his mouth. He proceeds to literally bound across the four lanes of traffic, hot dogs flailing along and dripping a multicolored trail behind him as if they were some kind of gooey tracking device. He gleefully shouts “hobobadiopay! Hobobadiopay! Hobobadiopay!” all the way across the street and then disappears back to the store from which I can only speculate he had bought his snack / makeup. I, in bewilderment, turned on my heels and kept walking to the train, knowing full well that this was one encounter I was never going to forget.
Months later, it occurred to me that “hobobadiopay” could actually have been, “Hope it will be ok.” Of course, it could also mean, “time to get another hot dog.”
Here’s the scenario. I am walking through the Powerhouse Circle roundabout, on my way to the T to go work for the Scientologists, when I notice a balding, clearly distressed fat man sitting on a park bench on the edge of the roundabout. He is trying, in vain, to eat a hot dog. What I mean by this is that, yes, the hot dog was making it’s way into his mouth, but only after a jaunt across this guys chin, then over to his cheek and across his nose, leaving behind it an orangeish swirl trail of mustard, ketchup and relish. While he’s painting his face, his tongue is playing the part of (http://www.zamboni.com) zamboni, chasing after the dog as it eludes his gaping hole of a mouth and further mixing the topping on his face. As he is attempting to eat this hot dog, I notice that he has another one, fully loaded with condiments, in his other meat hook of a hand. He is holding this second hotdog at a 45-degree angle and the toppings are beginning to slide off the dog and collect in a thick, colorful yet stomach-turning puddle at his feet. Jackson Pollock would be proud.
Regardless,
I am crossing the street and walking right towards this fellow. He notices me walking his way and stops chasing his hot dog across his face with his tongue. As I get closer, he suddenly stands up and quickly walks towards me with a wide-eyed look of confusion and concern on his face, as well as a few coatings of ketchup, mustard and relish. We are a few feet apart and he blurts out, with a note of fear in his voice, “Hobobadiopay?!” I am stunned. I stop dead in my tracks, for two reasons. One, because I have no idea what “hobobadiopay’ means and, two, because in shouting this at me, he has inadvertently spat some rather large chunks of half chewed hot dog at me. I can smell the saltiness of his snacks hanging in the air around him. “Hobobadiopay?!” he cries again, with a bit more desperation in his voice. I shrug, smile and say, in a cheerful, friendly voice, “Hobobadiopay, Capt’n!” To my surprise and sudden amusement, his face lights up, he smiles a huge toothy / hot doggy smile, and, while spewing more hot dog juice and relish chunks, he yells “Ya think so?!” with a voice that sounds like his tongue is three times too big for his mouth. He proceeds to literally bound across the four lanes of traffic, hot dogs flailing along and dripping a multicolored trail behind him as if they were some kind of gooey tracking device. He gleefully shouts “hobobadiopay! Hobobadiopay! Hobobadiopay!” all the way across the street and then disappears back to the store from which I can only speculate he had bought his snack / makeup. I, in bewilderment, turned on my heels and kept walking to the train, knowing full well that this was one encounter I was never going to forget.
Months later, it occurred to me that “hobobadiopay” could actually have been, “Hope it will be ok.” Of course, it could also mean, “time to get another hot dog.”
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Why I Hate The DNC
1) It is pure and simple propaganda; chalked full of empty promises, pointless rhetoric and he said / she said political party separation.
2) It doesn’t lay out policy so the DNC isn’t really a political convention, it just lays out blame for all the problems that we are in (and there are a shit load of those) and reiterates who the majority of Democratic voters have chosen to be blamed for not being able to fix these problems within the next four or eight years.
3) It is a weeklong “Obama is great” party, thrown by people who think “Obama is great” for people who think “Obama is great.”
4) It effectively widens the gap between left and right, which in turn creates political enemies of the two parties and creates the scenario of two opposite powers vying for power over the whole country, which in my book is a political war.
5) P.U.M.A. – Political Unity My Ass. An actual group of people who were Clinton supporters and who now refuse to support Obama. She lost the race, and did it by the rules. She has since conceded and, even though she said during her presidential campaign that McCain is more presidential than Obama, she wants her supporters to support the party that she is part of. Sure it was close, but pull your heads out of your PUMAsses and support the candidate that best represents her ideals and positions. I don’t think that light shines on McCain, like Debra Bartoshevick wants you to believe.
6) There is no recognition of 3rd party politics, which, if recognized, could easily end the redundancy and monotomy of our failed two party system where the two sides of the isle are literally pitted against each other in every contest.
All this being said, I fully support Obama because I think Obama is great. And I think this guy, Dan, is smart and well spoken.
2) It doesn’t lay out policy so the DNC isn’t really a political convention, it just lays out blame for all the problems that we are in (and there are a shit load of those) and reiterates who the majority of Democratic voters have chosen to be blamed for not being able to fix these problems within the next four or eight years.
3) It is a weeklong “Obama is great” party, thrown by people who think “Obama is great” for people who think “Obama is great.”
4) It effectively widens the gap between left and right, which in turn creates political enemies of the two parties and creates the scenario of two opposite powers vying for power over the whole country, which in my book is a political war.
5) P.U.M.A. – Political Unity My Ass. An actual group of people who were Clinton supporters and who now refuse to support Obama. She lost the race, and did it by the rules. She has since conceded and, even though she said during her presidential campaign that McCain is more presidential than Obama, she wants her supporters to support the party that she is part of. Sure it was close, but pull your heads out of your PUMAsses and support the candidate that best represents her ideals and positions. I don’t think that light shines on McCain, like Debra Bartoshevick wants you to believe.
6) There is no recognition of 3rd party politics, which, if recognized, could easily end the redundancy and monotomy of our failed two party system where the two sides of the isle are literally pitted against each other in every contest.
All this being said, I fully support Obama because I think Obama is great. And I think this guy, Dan, is smart and well spoken.
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