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Monthly Archives: September 2006
Italian Cali style
Two words: Mariachi Volare.
I hate rental cars
The dignity smashed. http://dee-rob.com
Jesus christ
Nothing fills me with a greater sense of doom than walking into a venue to perform, and realizing the rowdy crowd gathering below the room is a junior high ministry youth group.
I will commence to cutting at t-minus 10 and counting.
Sixes and sevens
I don't actually know what "at 6s and 7s" means. But, I think it's bad.
I took today off to get my car maintained, and I'm sitting on my ass. I'm listening to Isaac Hayes sing "I don't know what to do with myself," and it seems quite appropriate. I planned to write, because I'm doing a likely crappy thing tonight.
Oh right, in the name of self-promotion, come on out to the Blue Rock Shoot in the always lovely and upscale countryside of Saratoga, CA. It could be a good show.
I want to do all new stuff, shit that's been kicking around my head but has never come out of my mouth. Who knows, maybe I will. Or maybe I'll panic and just reiterate the shit that bores my pants off. And, not in a good pants off way.
It'll likely be a mix.
I'm soooooo fucking ambivalent about performing. It's like a weight that says, "Hey, shithead, why aren't you performing?" 'cause in my head, weights can talk. Maybe actually sucking it up and doing a show will invigorate. Or maybe it will kill all resolve.
AAAARRRGGGHHHH.
So, did you hear the one about the middle-aged chick with nothing to say?
Loving me some Bill and some pretty parasols
Yay Bill Clinton for telling Chris Wallace to wipe off his smirk. I mean wipe his smirk off his face.
Guess what righties, no matter how much you wanna will it, 9/11 wasn't BC's fault. It sucked, American foreign policy sucks, a hefty chunk of the world hates our American guts. Bill failed on some shit, but like he said at least some of the time, he tried.
Now, brush-clearing rancher George has absolutely made everything suck worse. Way worse. It's no longer about Al Qaeda, Bin Laden, who may be dead now anyway, and the Taliban. We're fucking around in a country where none of those things were ever, fucking never, ever in play.
So, red-faced, finger-waggin' or any other descriptors for Mr. Cllinton, rock on for yelling back.
On a lighter note, this year's Folsom Street Fair. It's so not like things in Boston/Cambridge, words fail. I think this pic is, if not a thousand words, a solid buck fifty.
I'm planning to jam some more pics here, before sleepy time.
Remember the song about spiders and snakes?
Awesome nature photography day — a real live tarantula in the wild.
Early in the day, I took a couple of pictures of a molted snakeskin and a coupld of trapping spiders and prepared myself for disappointmet. (Some chick said she had seen a tarantula on the path in the direction where I was walking. But, I thought, "How the hell will I know where to look, bitch? Stop taunting me.")
Prior to yesterday, the closest I had ever been to a giant spider was that episode on the Brady Bunch where the gang has bad luck in Hawaii on account of the cursed tiki.
Cool, huh? I live where the wild things are.
God, I got nothing
The world is shit. I'm stressed at work (but this too shall pass). I have a beau who's fun to tease and I got nothing to right about.
I'm taking it as a good sign that I left Boston, because Bill O'Reilly's been doing the Factor from there. I'm a little disappointed that some of the right wing baiters I know from comedy haven't disrupted the proceedings. Speaking of O'Reilly the Wall Street Journal or some shit that came through to me on a newsfeeder had a story about his calling himself a "T Warrior" and a "Culture Warrior." Fucking douche extraordinaire.
He's traditional and cultural in the same way any fucking celebrity stands up for the little guy. Where was the traditional culture that focused on screaming shit at someone and calling it discourse? I missed that one in anthropology class.
Oh, and I'm definitely voting Hugo Chavez in the midterm elections. Rock on, Hugo. Who hasn't wanted to call Bush the devil in a public forum.
On a personal note, this is the kind of thing I get sent at work by the boy-o during an average day. You know, some people send smilie faces and queer little ASCII roses. –<-@
It's a study that worries me on two fronts. One issue is that Asians live long time. Long time. Somedays, I really like M. and other L. words. But, man, I want term limits. A good thing about being a chick in general is you tend to outlive the guy. But, me, I gotta get a completely fit, zen motherfucker, insert your racist rice-eating slur here.
Not only that, but the second issue is that by the looks of the pretty colored picture maps ('cause I don't have time for actually reading), it looks like if I had stayed in the land of the bean and cod, I'd be living for awhile. The Mass. Bay to the Cali Bay Area color shift says I'm going to die.
He clearly invited me out here so my life expectancy would dwindle.
Oh, by the way, related to my racial slurring of my SO, I had a weird moment of racist/non-racist awareness last week. For the folks reading in Mass. or the UK, you really can't grok the melting pot that Cali is. It's the Golden State, because lots of people tan well.
So, where I work someone was showing off their incredibly adorable grandkid. Really good looking baby. The parents don't hale from the same clan or continent, if you catch my drift.
In a stunningly risky moment of potential cultural ignorancy and insensitive, I say something about mixed race babies and their cuteness. D'oh. I say it to a woman from Mexico and another born in South Asia.
I either intro'd or backpedaled an awkward cover to address the potential loaded dice I could have possibly rolled in this the politically correct Bay Area. Inside my head, as the words came out in slow motion, I thought "Jesus Christ, I sound like my mother, I'm channeling Pat and her opinions on colors and babies and the world, what the hell am I saying."
The woman who was born in Northern India of India parents launched in about what her mother would say. Her mother sounded exactly like my mother, as it turns out, talking about how if you stay in the same village idiots and ugly people evolve and sometimes you need to freshen the gene pool with outsiders, and that mixed race babies are the cutest.
What the fuck? Pat's parochialism ain't no thang it turns out. Either all moms is the same and cool, all commenting on the same shit, because that's what moms do. Doesn't matter skin color or vicinity. Or all moms are rottenly Klannish, even with skin color and vicinity.
I'm feeling all sunshiney and hopefull for humanity so I'll pick the moms are alright.
Leaping lizards
This weekend the camera recorded mostly lizards. Maybe they all knew I'd be trying to dream up a lizard theme birthday card for a LIZard-themed friend.
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It ain't Natalee
Sure, we as a nation are still all mourning that Natalee Holloway still remains in a mysterious land of mystery. Um, or her corpus is getting intimate with some fishes.
But, still and all, we have baby (oops wrong baby), Baby Abby back in her mom's arms. Going back to that first link from the Hindustani Times, which devoted a whole paragraph to a missing child, how do people in the developing world live without wall-to-wall, hour-to-hour coverage and minute-by-minute updates when their kids go missing? It's almost like if you are focusing on living your own miserable existence, you don't even have time for bullshit.
Nancy Grace and Greta Van Susteren's smiles are so big and wide and fake-y fake joy. I'm getting the sense they're a little disappointed there ain't another dead baby to rail about.
(On a self-serving sidenote, maybe an homage to HBee, Greta is on FOX chatting up grandpa of baby Abby — Do you think the mention of Jesus in every fucking single CNN and/or FOX story about abductions means that God lets Christian babies get taken more frequently? Doesn't anyone wanted the rainbow-colored offspring of the world's other religions? Or maybe it's a "no atheists in a foxhole thang?")
I'm a little disappointed myself that the baby turned up, not generally, just today. I wanted her rescued but another day would have given a chance for more on the teenager text messaging from her sex, torture bunker. I mean this guy had a whole bunker system, and all the baby had was a strawberry mark.
Bunkers and "underground privies" are cool.