Quotent Quotables

Even though this knocks me past four entries for the month, at least one if not all were not up to my exacting standards — aka they were garbage. Extra points for consistency. Speaking of consistency, the consistency of my bowels could use some work. Perhaps it is the preponderance of Mexican and not-quite-Mexican (Taco Bell) I have consumed of late. In homage to the latter, after a long long evening I offered to make, quite literally, a Taco Bell run at just past 4am Sunday morning. Literal in that I am writing about it. It happened to pour rain for only the four-to-five minutes it took me to run the three-quarters of a mile or so to The Bell and yes, I was running. But it made for an excellent scene as I was wearing a dress shirt and loosened tie from an improv performance. I had that Hollywood epic rain-run look, except instead of a wedding or some heart-rending moment, I was...not. I did manage to have awesome interactions with the clientele, as per usual. The only mistake I made was not ordering even more food.

A look back halfway through the month and all the way through my life should suggest I should know better concerning my own bowels, but I doubt that'll stop me. How will I use my griping double-entendre then? Artists must make sacrifices.

Speaking of things I like that don't give me diarrhea (although I am not certain of this yet), old people. Sometimes they are all ornery and I just want to drop eff bombs on them, but sometimes these folks are just so damn sweet it hurts. Take some lady today who asked if I worked in the building, the building I happen to live in. "No," I told her. "Oh, you look familiar," she said. What I should have said was, "Have you seen Heroes, or the new Star Trek movie?" Instead I said, "Well I do live here." She then proceeded to complement me on my haircut and to ask if she were overdressed for the weather — she was, but old people get cold easily. I have no idea what I will be like when I'm an old man, but I know that a) I'd like to be a grandfather and b) I'd like to have a porch. These things seem essential. I'd like to dispense lots of knowledge to my grandchildren, which will prove woefully outdated, but that perhaps they will accept as wisdom on account of me being old and all. I will drink a lot of whiskey and beer. And sarsparilla. Leave off the "sars" for a Spanish-sounding last name. Whether I will kick the Mexican habit remains to be seen.

I just killed a big-ass fly (not to be confused with a big assfly) in my kitchen with a paper towel. I am real proud of myself.

Does anyone else think that "April Showers brings May Flowers" is begging to be made into a porno? I mean, you wouldn't even have to change the title if you didn't want. And that seems like more than enough at the moment.

Slipped a Mickey

Today it came out that yet another track athlete is a drug cheat or, I should say, apparent drug cheat. Lashawn Merritt, 2008 Olympic Gold Medalist in the 400m, tested positive for some steroid I've never heard of. Athletes always claim they were sabotaged or that it was the ingredient in something they were innocently using. In the article I read in the Washington Post, Merritt claims the steroid was an ingredient in OTC male-enhancement pillExtenze. It'll be a long hard road to redemption for Merritt.

Some say we are in the worst economic crisis since the Great Depression. In homage to that era, back in the day I think it was refreshing and realistic that even Mickey contemplated offing himself. Credit to Tom Meagher for the link, some time ago now.

With over six million views I guess this Asian kid singing Whitney Houston is a pretty known quantity, but in case you've missed it, hella tight. Speaking of Asia, I feel like I posted/uploaded this image before, but just in case here it is again:



Oh, and while I use either Firefox or Safari, my buddy Osbourne alerted me to all of these alternate web browser choices.

So basically I posted some links. I also had a celebrity sighting of Lebron James in a bar/club last night. He was wearing sunglasses indoors, which I sometimes do. Do I think this connects us, no, but it is a statement of fact. And as a matter of fact, I've got to go.

Great Googley Moogley

Lately people have been scaling the side of my building like ninjas. It's less cool than it sounds.

I was at Chipotle the other night, which I sometimes talk shit about but really it's perfectly fine you can just usually get local Mexican that is tastier, for cheaper, especially in this city. As for cheaper, this is especially the case when it is $1.80 for guacamole to be added to my burrito, considering I can buy about two avocados for that. But hey, supply and demand. The one thing I didn't demand from my burrito was diarrhea, but the next morning it was delivered anyway, free of charge. Things have a way of balancing out.

I actually thought I'd grown immune to Mexican-induced diarrhea because I eat Mexican so frequently, but how wrong I was. Taco Bell done got me real good last night. In my haste to return home, I neglected to get fire sauce, but it would appear this may have been for the best. I have also decided I am the most popular person in the Wrigleyville Taco Bell after 3am on weekends. I'd say if you're reading, feel free to come talk to me next time you see me there, but a) you wouldn't be reading, and b) if you're the kind of person who would be talking to me in the wee hours at Taco Bell, you'll do it regardless of goading here. It's a great scene, I think, despite being a chain, it really brings the community together. That that community is a hodgepodge of under-aged and/or overly intoxicated individuals is an asterisk not really a scarlet letter.

Before I forget, and because I like to promote awesome shit my friends do when I know about it, here's a link to a video my friend Bridget shot for the Future Islands track "Tin Man". I like it very much, I hope you will too.

Further promotion for my new buddy Jeff Ringgenberg, whose story and whatnot you can follow here. I like Jeff because his priorities fall heavily in line with a lot of my own and he has that thing there seems to be a pretty fair amount of out here in the midwest: genuinicity. Yeah, throw that in the to-be-released dictionary. Also, I think he's going to really be doing some funny stuff and laughter is goddamned medicine. He has and will have shows, so you can find that all there and follow him on Twitter if that is your thing. I also exist on Twitter, over here, if you don't already get too much of me. I don't really use Twitter as it is meant to I don't think, but nonetheless.

Trying to bring this verbosity to a close, pretty soon I have a feeling Google will run my life autonomously for me. It's started with google saying I'm online when I'm not via the old gmail. Also, I noted when I did a google search the other day it included results related specifically to people in my contact list (something I don't actually have, I just rely on the memory dealio where once you get or write a few emails to someone it remembers the contact automatically). That and the moron check I noted maybe a month ago where, when I typed the word "attach" in my email, it noted that I had not actually attached anything, and wanted to know if I would like to. Om-effin-g.

Oh, and watch Three Times, at least the first two vignettes. I didn't watch the third yet myself, but the first two, especially the first, is really, really, awesome. I might need a new adjective of appreciation. Still, Shu Qi is one of the biggest babes of all time, and Chang Chen is just tight. Count it...

Lose Your Mind

This is just a message to myself really because I wonder how coherent I am after over 25 hours waking having consumed excesses of several substances, some of them stimulants, some depressants. I think the MSG in Doritos qualifies it in the latter category. My hands are still orange and I need to make quota for this month of four posts. Should have posted the link earlier, and always, but check out Red Bar Radio. I have grown to really like the show and it's [mostly] good-natured offensiveness. Chicago comics are so tight and down-to-earth. I hope to make cameos in the future. Once the marathon show gets posted from today, you can probably hear me speaking in the late late hours (19-21) shouting gibberish and especially laughing uncontrollably for the last hour as listeners/viewers typed in fat jokes. Completely shameless self-promotion I suppose, but I'm not even really on there and man, if listening is half as fun as being there, I hope you enjoy. My god, I feel zany.

Scenes from a 7-11

Now I was just about to conjure up some new thoughts, or attempts at new ones, when I realized I had this draft sitting in the folder from August 15, 2009. So instead, let's make like an adopted dog and expound...right...

I'd outlined a few details and, using the powers of research and memory, here is the setting: it was a Friday evening becoming Saturday morning or, rather more likely, already become Saturday morning at that point. My buddy and I stopped in at the 7-11 and it was awfully warm so we may have been opting for slurpies, even though they tend to give me temporary bronchitis, where my lungs feel frozen and irritated, resulting in an unusual cough that I've never otherwise experienced. All it's really leading up to is this unusual fellow (I seem to like the word unusual today) that was ahead of us at the register. He was sharing tidbits with the cashier and though the cashier was nonresponsive, that did little to discontinue his commentary. I might not have remembered them all distinctly, but I wrote them down. The following lines were delivered in order:

"It's humid outside." About three seconds pause, awaiting response but then, maybe also not.

"It's air-conditioned in here." Another pause, slightly longer.

"I'm buying ice cream," followed by nervous awkward laughter from speaker. He was, in fact, buying ice cream. Similar length pause.

"I just saw G.I. Joe." I am inclined to believe him. This was the end of the exchange, and then he exited, stage center.

While trying not to look at my buddy and erupt into laughter I noted a chocolate calculator among the items at the register to entice last second purchase. It's tagline: "smells like real chocolate!". Yes, this was not actually an edible calculator, merely a functional one, that was chocolate-scented. And they say kids say the darndest things...

And all the while, all the while there were these two creepy dudes chillin' by the magazine section which is at the front of this particular store — front as in doors and entryway, not front as in register location. And all the while, from before we even entered the store they are simply staring at us and otherwise loitering. I wish I caught a glimpse of what they were reading, or remembered their outfits, because I really think it'd add to the tale.

Flash-forward to the last couple of dozen times I've been in a Sev — I tend to go at least every Saturday night to mix coffee (usually Brazilian Bold) with hot chocolate (and sometimes that chocolate cupcake flavor), and then pour in five or six shots of whiskey. And the cashiers I get are always hella tight. And in the one Sev, the one I almost never go into but walk by the most frequently, in that one I frequently see the same 1-3 cops, and outside a homeless man shaking a cup. I don't know if it's the same guy because I always try not to really look. But the cup, the cup is always different.