Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Friday, June 5, 2009
We initially went to household remedies: all beer related. My friend's tongue went numb and he started shaking. Wikipedia told me how toxic this plant really is, but I for some reason was not telling him the truth. My frame of mind was to not get his heart rate up, and also to not ruin my buzz.
The call to California Poison Control went like this:
ME: Yeah, my friend just ate a leaf from a pennyroyal plant...
PC: Well, why did he do that?
ME: He didn't know it was poisonous.
PC: Yeah, it's poisonous. Deadly poisonous.
ME: Should we take him to a hospital?!
PC: Ah, lemme check.
We held for seventy-one seconds. It sounded like this guy took this call from his cabin in the Sierras.
PC: Well, if he just ate a leaf, he should be alright. It takes about 100 grams to kill an adult. He may have some bowel trouble for the next couple weeks though.
So far, he's wolfed down a Subway footlong and everything, for the time, seems to be all right.
And I'm getting rid of that awful, useless fucking plant.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
This guy took a long time with my hair. After 25 minutes, he stepped back and said "There. Now your hairline makes sense."
I replied, "Hey, this shop cut it last time." I remembered multiple occasions when I'd have to get corrective surgery on my head after getting a cut from...a deaf man with cataracts.
"Yeah, it's just really confusing up here. You see," He pulled back my hair. "See, you're starting to thin on this side, but not on this side. But I just made this side longer so it evens out."
Translation: I am balding in the worst possible way. I am balding from right to left.
Maybe back to front would be worse.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Finally, this bustling Saturday afternoon, I bit my lip I transformed it into what you see above. That's about a ton of Desert Rose rock. I kept my head down, I didn't talk to the dogs, I didn't wave at the babies. Then, as I'm spreading this rock around the space, a shadow comes over me. I can't play it off. I have to look up, and I prepare myself for some kind of scorn. I know, I know, I should have planted these cacti further from the sidewalk...
"Hey, um, do you think you have a moment of your time?" Asked a chubby kid who looked a little like the lightsaber viral-video guy. He squinted so hard from the sun that it pulled on his upper lip.
"Well, I'm pretty busy."
"I just wanted to know...where'd you get this rock?"
Oh, I thought he was going to sell me magazines. Now I feel bad. "I got it at Home Depot. There's, like, a ton here." Oh, he likes that.
"Um, can I have one?"
"Oh, sure!" I pick a small, rose-colored stone out and hand it to him.
"No, um, that one." He points to a ten-pound granite boulder I have, one of a few I've got decorating the area.
Now, is it a bad idea to give a kid a big rock? It's in that grey area between gun and scissors. I feel like this is a test. Like those neighbors are pulling a prank on me, or if it isn't a prank, that it's some kind of initiation test. They've got their binoculars focused on my perplexed face. "Did he pass the rock test?" they'll all be whispering. No one will come to our house for Halloween. Dogs will shit in my rose rock garden.
I say, "Yeah, take it."
He scoops it up, says thank you, and walks it over to a landscaping truck. The boulder is handed to the driver of the truck. They both get in and drive away.
I don't know what to think, but I'm spending the rest of the day inside.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Now where did I put that baby...
Monday, February 2, 2009
"Someone here in our office feels very strongly that the cartoon image of the sun with some sort of cigarette in its mouth, while it is wearing at headband and staring at the Earth after it turns into an orange, is a realistic depiction of marijuana use. Is that a "joint", or is it just a hand rolled tobaccos cigarette? Also, is the sun old enough to smoke?"
My friend, after clearing her eyes of tears, initially wrote:
"The image in the animation of the sun includes a hand-drawn hand-rolled tobacco cigarette. The sun, while personified in the clip, still represents the 4.5 billion year old celestial body, which is old enough to smoke."
Naturally, my friend came to me for advice on how to speak to a government employee. Here's how I urged her to reply:
"One, as a commando, the Sun would be forced to condense his supplies and waterproof them. Therefore, it would be more efficient for the Sun to carry flat rolling papers in one cargo pocket, and an air-tight bag of tobaccos in another pocket. Carrying a whole carton of Virginia Slims would be inefficient and amateurish. Also, it wouldn't make combat sense for the Sun to be smoking marijuana because it would obviously impair the senses, unlike tobaccos, which would make him feel more masculine and therefore more deadly.
"Lastly, if the Sun is old enough to shoot radiation bullets into planets, he's old enough to smoke.
"This is all very ironic, you realize, because with the amount of flammable gasses the Sun exhales, even smoking the smallest cigarette would engulf him in flames."
She went with her original reply.
I put some Vick's on to cover up the smell. Didn't work, though. I went back to sleep and had the following dreams:
- Working in a microfiber-couch warehouse
- Wearing a poncho in the rain at a Boy Scout camp in Alaska
- Eating airplane peanuts
- Taking out the trash in my underwear
I woke up with a sore throat. I took the trash out first thing, but the smell's still lingering. I'm beginning to think that my throat's the one who smells like carpet padding.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
It was great. Strong hands. Lotsa conversing in English. Good job, Tamar.
Something was unleashed, though. On my drive home, struggling to find a radio station now that Indie 103.1 is gone, I turned to some goofy lunchtime show on a rock channel. And I could not stop LAUGHING at their inane banter. I mean "a-heul, a-heul-heul," Goofy-type laughing. Driver-next-to-me-watching laughter. It was a half-hour drive.
Also, I think the massage broke my kidney. Which is funny because it is ironic.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Am I wrong, Seattle natives? You know every word, right?
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Today I went to Supercuts. It's right across the street from a nicer, but more expensive barbershop, so I actually can debate the cost/benefits right until the end. Sometimes I splurge. Sometimes I save. The cars behind me don't like that.
This morning's winning argument in favor of Supercuts was that what I'm really paying extra for at the other guy's is the intelligibility of the small talk. To me, that's like choosing an airline based on the quality of their food. I'd rather have the barber shut up so I can sulk at my multiplying chins. I couldn't do that today, though. This time, I was distracted by my Supercut barber's outfit: a knee-length, black t-shirt with the words "Special Sale $10!" This isn't particularly funny put into the context (which I discovered later in the haircut, after I had a quiet chuckle between myself and myself in the mirror) of a hair salon trying to sell eyebrow and and lip waxing at a discount. Signs advertising this were all over the shop.
Which brings me to my uncomfortable position. Let's face it: I've got big eyebrows. I know it, my friends know it, and this pushy female barber wanted to make $10 off of them. After my haircut, she implored that I add an additional service.
"Vould you like a champoo? Or..."
"No, I'm fine. The cut looks fine."
"Ve also have other serbices, you know."
"Oh, no, just the haircut."
"Vell, we're having zis sale all month."
I don't think I can go back there now. And that's probably better for all of us.
Monday, January 12, 2009
A couple of days ago I discovered that I can put a cotton swab all the way into my nose.
I think it's important to note that I wasn't just rooting around my orifices for a new party trick. I read about the secret nose hiding spot, THEN did my own experimenting. See, I think that makes me less weird. It's not like I was just searching for a place to put my q-tip.
I was super impressed with myself, even if K only huffed after I told her about my new trick. Five years ago, I started to wear corduroys. Last year, I ate sushi. Now, I can stick virtually any 4 1/2 inch-long, non-barbed object into my nasal cavity. I walk intrepidly into the future.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
From Robert Benchley's "Traffic Regulations for Air-Lanes" (1912, abridged)
Examination for Urban Pilot's License
This examination is to be taken while still on the ground.
- Are you quite sure that you really want to fly? Remember--no fair changing your mind once you are up.
- Do you have an uncontrollable desire to jump from great heights?
- If you answered "Yes" to the preceding question, just what arrangement would you make for the disposition of your ship if you should give in to your whim to jump?
- Aside from their characteristic noises, what are the main differences between an oncoming airplane and an oncoming sea-gull?
- Does the term "flying blind" mean the same as "flying drunk?"
- How many drinks do you consider "a couple?"
- A ship, which is passing you, forces you out of your traffic lane into the path of an oncoming ship, which forces you up into the path of a descending ship, which forces you down in to the path of an ascending ship. What do you do? What difference does it make?
- Name three popular directions besides "up."
- On a rough guess, how high is "up?"
Mechanics: Don't forget. Each one of these little instruments has its own special use, and only one of them plays the radio.
- The Altimer: This tells you how high you are. Don't look!
- The Pessimeter: Tells you how low you are.
- Gasoline Gauge: This will tell you when you have run out of gas. Another sign is when pedestrians begin coming up and peering into your cockpit at you, or a man rushes out and asks you to get off his lawn.
Would this have been funny in 1812, 100 years before it was written? I mean, if the thought of human flying machines didn't simply terrify the British sailors blockading American ports. Will it be funny 100 years from now? I get the feeling that my grandchildren will not laugh at a single thing I do. Maybe I should get some puppets. That's the future, you know.
Friday, January 2, 2009
Has anyone considered putting an A-Team of MERCs to go after Osama Bin Laden and his $50-million bounty? Has anyone considered making that a documentary? I'm not counting Morgan Spurlock.
"Re-arrange Us" - Mates of State (20 times)
"Send a Little Love Token" - The Duke Spirit (17)
"Buildings and Mountains" - Republic Tigers (13)
"Set Me Free" - The Heavy (12)
"MC Chris is Dead" - MC Chris (12)
"Time to Pretend" - MGMT (11)
"Furr" - Blitzen Trapper (9)
"Senor and the Queen" - The Gaslight Anthem (9)
"Bye Bye Bye" - Plants and Animals (8)
"Sex on Fire" - Kings of Leon (7)
"Resistance Street" - What Made Milwaukee Famous (7)
"Boracay" - The Little Ones (6)
"Wishing Well" - The Airborne Toxic Event (5)
"Grinding Halt" - The Muslims (5)
"Tiger Mountain Pleasant Song" - Fleet Foxes (4)
"Little Bit of Feel Good" - Jamie Lidell (4)
I'll have to take iTunes's unbiased word for these. I can't believe I listened to Walcott that many times. But then looking at, say, The Gaslight Anthem song, some of these I don't even know the words to. And just seeing that Lidell song on there makes me nose hurt like I walked into a freshly bleached school bathroom.
You'll be happy to know, Poetic and Divine, that I listened to "Kind Fate" (by The Wax Standard) four times. Beat out all my Michael Franti.