The Reagan Administration

I love it when people change how they speak when they are talking to different people. I see it happen when my friends talk to black people. They start throwing around ,,Dawg,, and ,,Homie,, and dropping off the last letter of words (hangin, gangin, smokin) like it is a standard component of their vernacular. Like it ain,t no thing. I bet they don,t even notice it. They just get nervous and they think that the black dude will beat them up if they start saying words how they actually sound. They gotta keep it street.

I do it sometimes. I did it the other day when I was walking around my really nice neighborhood and this guy crossed the street so we would cross paths. I figured out a long time ago that a move like that generally means that I,m about to get asked for money. So my game of choice as of recently has been to beat them to it and ask them for money before they can ask me. Usually it just confuses them and they say no. This time it backfired.

Tidy Kid - Frozen Flower Pot
I asked the guy for some spare change and he did the same. He asked over and over so I just held out my hand and looked at it disparagingly. Eventually he quit asking me for money and suggested that I walk with him to the corner store so we could both beg for money together and share a nice beverage once we got our funds together. I was not prepared for this and didn't want to tell him that I was just going to go to my insulated home and eat a pizza and watch porn on my computer, so I started actin a fool and slurring my speech and making up a weird story about how I had to go to the train tracks to meet Denny to talk about my sister moving out of state. He threw me for another loop when he told me that he had just been to the tracks and that nobody was there. It was like he was testing me to see if I was really as poor and cool as I was trying to act. He saw right through me. That clever son of a bitch.

He asked me my name so I told him the classic Mike. He said his name was Houston. I said we would meet up at the same place in 30 minutes if he wanted to get drunk later. He agreed. So now I had to take a big detour home so I wouldn,t run into him and have to share a greasy bottle of Mad Dog. I don,t like sharing. In retrospect, it was probably my loss. I bet Houston is a great guy. With his salt and pepper beard and his drool and his wet, blue jacket he was like an overstuffed, dirty teddy bear with long fingernails and a drug addiction.

I just found out that my friend got beaten up last night by a black guy. I wonder if he spoke differently to him when he was trying to reason his way out of it. You know, so they could relate. I think the whole thing started because my friend was speaking English rather than the fake English the the night-crawler was accustomed to. I guess that proves the theory. If you don,t want to get beaten up by a screaming guy on the street at 11:45 at night you have to act like you can,t read very well. Mythbusted.

Basketball Tryouts

I was super spoiled when I was a kid. I still am. My dad used to give me twenty dollars every weekend so, when I was skateboarding with my friends, I could buy all of the SqueezeIt brand juice-style drinks that I wanted. I don,t really like SqueezeIts so I would usually just buy a sandwich with some of the money and save the rest to buy a record. I forget what kind of stuff I would buy. Probably horrible Nu Metal. On a good week I might get a weird electronic album or Soundgarden or something. Mostly Nu Metal though. It,s a bummer that I can,t remember all those wastes of 14 dollars.

I do remember however, a camping trip I went on when I was younger. It was at some lake during the Summer. It was rad. My dad bought my brother and me a ton of Oreos and sodas and SqueezeIts. All of the roads were made out of dirt and rocks and I would blast down them on my bike and slam the coaster brakes and skid over and over. After every skid, I would race back to my dad and the cooler and cram my mouth full of hot Oreos and diabetically-sweet juice and fly into another skid. Of course I crashed a ton and had blood instead of knee bones. I threw up a bunch too. Strenuous exercise coupled with chocolate intestines and Strawberry Mountain Avalanche flavored juice is a one way ticket to either diarrhea junction or puke town. I took the high road that day. The plus side to all of that crashing is that when I returned to school after Summer, my pants had cool holes in the knees just like Nirvana guy.

So Stressed - Demo 2010
I always liked Capri Sun the best out of all of the juice that is aimed at the five to fourteen demographic. I appreciated the packaging. They were obviously heavily influenced by the works of Cezanne, Duchamp, Braque, and Ozenfant. I was recently at the San Francisco MOMA and saw a great installation featuring the works of Marcel Duchamp, Diego Rivera and Capri Sun pouches. After seeing that show I was inspired to start buying Capri Suns again. Now, whenever I,m feeling lackadaisical and yearning for times of old, I reach into my freezer and pull out a nice, frozen juice bag, rip off the straw, slice off the top and eat it like a popsicle. Sometimes, I like to imagine that I live in a remote area of Peru in 1909 and this icy treat is completely foreign to me. I look at it lovingly and tenderly while I savor every Pacific Cooler flavored ounce.

I am the loneliest man alive.

Dead Great Grandmother

What,s up with the regularity of this blawg? There,s a new boring thing to skim on here every week. It,s become a good indicator of how little I have going on in my life. Well, the frequency and the poor content are both good indicators. The more long-winded, boring stuff I write on here the less interesting stuff I have going on in real life. I have huge swaths of time in my day to sit and agonize about what captivating lie to write on here for the thousands of pining readers. God I am boring.

Loretta Lynn - I Like ,Em Country
I,m not as boring as video games though. I played them a little bit when I was younger but never really got into them Nintendo-Magazine-style. I never had a Nintendo or Sega but my brother had a Sega as well as a Nintendo 64. I remember Golden Eye being pretty great though. I didn,t like it until he figured out that you could put in all of these insane codes that would make everybody green with giant heads and you could have the golden gun so everybody would die in one shot and then just hop to the last level and kill the boss. That was fun. The Tony Hawk game he had was pretty cool. Doing 1260 nose grabs one hundred feet in the air never seemed so attainable. 1080 snowboarding was cool too but he never had that. And there was a wave, what are those called? Those snowmobiles for water. I really can,t remember what they are called. That game was cool though. You could run over dolphins.

Now I have a Nintendo DS that I use to play Super Mario Brothers 3 (III) and the New Super Mario Brothers. Both awesome. Both don,t need that stick to touch the screen. I hate that stick so much. Oh yeah, I used to play DOOM on my dad,s computer when I was younger. On DOS. And Lemmings. If anybody knows if there are any codes for Lemmings let me know because I play that on the DS sometimes and I have a really tough time getting through the level that has Tchaikovsky,s ,,Dance of the Sugar-Plum Fairy,, playing in it.

He Watches Me In The Morning

I hate animals. I hate them so much. But I hate it when people talk about them even more. Especially when they talk about how they deserve ,,rights,, and that they exist with a purpose other than to be a utility for people. They don,t. They are terrible. They are the worst things ever. All horses ever do is kick people in the head until they are in wheelchairs and then once they are in the wheelchair the horse would probably find the guy and bite his face so he has to get surgery.

The worst part about animals is hearing speeches during terrible punk shows about how the XhardcoreX community and the XpunkX community and VgothV (those are supposed to be fangs on the goth) community need to come together to preserve the rights of animals. They are always said by the same people that, when they were in high school biology class, wouldn,t cut open the fetal pig to look at the guts because the pig was too cute. When I was in that class, somebody took one of the pigs and pierced its ear. That was cute. A dead pig with a golden hoop.

Charles Dodge - Synthesized Voices
I guess the strangest part about all of my raw hatred toward animals and anything that isn,t me, is that I am too lazy to eat them for the most part. There is no way I want to take the time to (alliteration) learn how to cook something properly that, if not cooked thoroughly enough, will kill me or at least make me poop my pants more. Not worth it. People get weirded out when I tell them I am not going to make chicken cutlets for dinner or that I don,t want to eat steak because my dad made it every night when I was growing up because he is fat. They tell me I,m a vegetarian if I don,t eat chickens. I usually don,t care because one of the things I worry about the least in life is what others think about my diet.

I definitely try to eat weird meat though. I would eat the cutest puppy in the world in a heartbeat. You wouldn,t be able to keep me away from it if it were sitting in front of me, slow cooked in natural juices for eight to ten hours. I bet it,d be delicious. I would also eat sea lion or regular lion. I would also eat a person. I wake up every day wishing that it was legal to eat human steaks. I want to eat anorexic girls. Get it?