It scares the fish.

I was taking a break.

I was driving the other day, when I passed, walking the direction I was heading, an infamous local man. He’s mentally challenged, so to speak, and very fucking angry at the world. He accosts pedestrians, picks fights, etc.

I don’t hate him, because it’s not his fault, but I think I am in a camp with most in town when I avoid him.

THEN, coming the other way on the same side of the street, I see a notorious local drunk. He’s very fucking angry at the world. He accosts pedestrians, picks fights, etc.

I do hate him, because it is his fault.

They’re headed right for each other. Sparks will fly when they meet, but I don’t turn around.

I just drive on, thinking to myself, “Nice try, cosmos, but whatever ‘X’ you’re trying to lure me onto is not a place I will be standing today.”

Safety first, people.

Lately (Read six months or so), I’ve been trying to get ahold of one Solomon Grundie.

Since I work a lot, he works . . . sometimes… and I don’t have a phone number for him, it’s been rough.

So the other day, I saw him walking along. Basically, plodding. He was nodding to himself and listening to a musical device. I thought, “Hey a great time to get his attention”

So I headed over to tap him on the shoulder.

Diving across three lanes of traffic (did I mention I was in my car? I was in my car), I swerved toward him and yelled HAAAAAAY HAAAAAY HAAAAAAY DICKFACE while headed straight for him. From THE FRONT.

He just kept walking.

This motherfucker was SO oblivious, so INTO the pedestrian experience, he didn’t notice an SUV piloted by a pyschopath headed right for him.

So I thought, “Either he’s ducking me, or it’s really hard to get his attention. What’s less subtle?”

Hence this post.

If this doesn’t work, 2 live Crew is still together and will work, at a place I specify, for a reasonable amount of money.

Don’t make me rap you up, son.

If there are too many girls in your life

Just take some lessons from me

I can fix it for you.

I was texting a girl today.

She told me she had just gotten a new roommate.

I was like, OMG! B OR G?

And she was like, “B”

And so I was like

“Well, a male roommate! You are one castmember short of a sitcom! I think it should be called “Two guys, a girl, and a Pizza Mace (it will be a sitcom about the inventor of spray pizza)”

This, evidently, ended the ‘convo’

Weird little turns of phrase will come and go.

For example

Frannis Scrace.

Frannis Scrace was a nonsense person/place in a crime novel I read once. Frannis Scrace was what or who the oversized, maniac killer that . . . ah . . . villinated that novel would ask an innocent bystander about. The momentary pause while the person sort of engaged sortilage to parse that little gem . . . “does he mean the old Francis Place? Is he looking for Fran Isgrace?” etc, that was the pause the killer used to hit and stun the victim with a three-foot length of tractor chain taped with athletic tape. After that, well, the person was basically fucked, because the killer was not the sort of person that required repeated blows to subdue a normal, ordinary churchgoer such as those he kilt.

I think about Frannis Scrace all the time. The idea that there are these bombs, these gordian bullets, that we just stick on – why is that? Why do we try to decode what we don’t recognize, rather then accepting or skipping or forgetting?

Thinking about Frannis Scrace has made me into Frannis Scrace. People don’t get what I’m saying a lot of the time.

They have to parse it out. Think it through. Decide if I’m fucked up or just fucking with them or what.

Say, friend, would you know how to get to the Frannis Scrace?

Let me ask you a question:

What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?

What do you hide from your friends?

What do you think they’d say if they knew?

Now…

That in mind…

What do they hide from you?

What would they really do, or think?

Do you want to know the sad truth?

They wouldn’t care all that much. You think you’re some holy terror, I’m sure. You think if you ever did get in a fight, man people would be shocked how angry you are, right? You think, man if someone messed with my kids, I teach them a lesson.

Don’t you?

Of course.

You have to. You have to think you COULD go crazy. You have to think you COULD make something happen. It’s a defense mechanism, a mental prophylactic against a world that can just plain fuck you up at any time.

Do you want to know what your friends would think?

They’d think, “how does this change ME?”

“what does this mean . . . for me…for my social calendar . . . for my reputation.”

They wouldn’t think, “oh my poor friend…what could have driven him to that?” because it’s just way down the list of thoughts and you’ll be gone before there’s time.

They wouldn’t think, “Oh jesus I was wrong about him,” unless you screw that friend over personally, because people aren’t wired to question their own judgment.

So if DO have a big bad past…keep your mouth shut, unless the stories are cool.

And if you don’t, be glad instead of telling yourself you could if you had too.

The battle was over. Skynet had lost.

Seriously, I don’t usually just “dump a link”

but this is cool.

One thing I have learned on my new job:

The movie Armageddon was pretty bad, technically.

I do still tear up a little when Will Patton gives his kid the little plastic space shuttle, though.

No matter how big a piece of schlock a movie or TV show is, there is a swedish or russian dude that loves it.

Don’t believe me? Run something like, say, Battle Dome or WMAC Masters or Vegas (the robert urich one not “Las Vegas”) through IMDB, and read the comments. There, in the middle of all the “WHY GOD WHY” and MY EYES MY EYES” comments will be one swedish guy: “I ACTUALLY REALLY LIKE THIS SHOW ACTING NOT SO GOOD BUT ACTION PACK AND AMERICAN LADIES ARE WO-WOW BORK BORK BORK. I BUY ON VHS PLEASE PUT ON DVD, AMERICA”

This brings us to my real point – something I heard in an interview with Quinton Tarentino, actually. He said, and I’m paraphrasing here, that all those cheesy movies he liked, he didn’t like them ironically, because they were cheesy – he liked them at the time because at the time, they were awesome, and when he watches a movie from that time, or makes a movie like one from that time, he does it without irony and recaptures some of that feeling.

Kind of like Henry Rollins talking about KISS(one again I paraphrase) – “It was so great to see a band on stage, rocking out with zero irony factor, you know, they weren’t like, you know, puttin’ on a show- you see bands nowadays and they are somehow above rock, they have contempt for it, they’re like, ‘here’s our dumb ballad’ – dude, why did you have to say that? I liked that song. Now I feel stupid for liking it – it was great to see someone putting on a rock show. They weren’t all “Here’s one of our stupid songs,” They were like, ‘THIS SONG IS CALLED STRUTTER'”

It was so refreshing to see that rock spectacle”

What I’m saying is, why do we have to be so ironic today? Why don’t people just like the things they like? Why do they immediately start excusing the things they like? “I like the killers, you know, but the aren’t as good as say, the early shows Iggy Pop and the Stooges did at CBGBs.” “Man it’s too bad the strokes have become so weak. I really thought they were going to like, save rock, man” etc.

Man, shut the fuck up. You weren’t even born then. You like the killers? Listen to the killers. You like the strokes, listen to the fucking strokes. Life is not some kind of bizzaro world showcase showdown where the person who comes the closest to hating the stuff they like without going over wins.

So

I spent about nine months in a sort of office-space type environment.

I don’t know where to begin RE coroporate american, the problem with.