Sunday, March 29, 2009

I Have Superpowers

Today I realized something truly amazing about myself. I have superpowers. And what is this amazing ability of mine, you may or may not be asking yourself? The amazing ability is this: I can make the wind blow. I can do this without fail and whenever I want. Want to know how I manifest this amazing ability? By simply cleaning my pool, spa, and backyard decking. That's right...I came about my superpowers without having to go through the discomfort of being exposed to gamma radiation, toxic waste, or a painful spider bite (from what I can tell these are the preferred methods of developing superpowers).

I exercised this power again this weekend. I had my backyard looking like a photo shoot out of Sunset magazine. The very next day? I woke up to the dynamic sound of wind whistling through the trees...and my pool, spa, and deck looking like the Okechobee swamp. This is, like, the third weekend in a row. Now, granted, this superpower isn't as cool as, say, superhuman strength. Or the ability to turn invisible. Or the ability to fly...or even x-ray vision. And, to be honest, I can't muster the ability to summon a hurricane or tornado that you could really do some serious shit with. No, I can only summon the kind of wind that shakes leaves and branches and dust loose from trees and blows it all into the backyards of others. So I'm not sure what actual hero/villan application this power has. I mean, I could make an outdoor wedding a bit of a pain in the ass....you know, blow over table settings, mess up the brides hair, or maybe blow a bridesmaids skirt up and give everybody a shot of her thong...or maybe even kick up the allergy factor with all the crap blowing around and make everybody sneeze and itch. Yeah. That would suck. Well, kinda suck. Anyways, that would be the extent of the villainy I could wreak upon the land. If I were to use my powers for good, I guess I could make a child's day by mustering up some really cool kite flying conditions, or maybe a good day of sailing on the lake...maybe even windsurfing. But that's about it. Like I said, these (less than) awesome powers have limited applications. So, there it is. All I need now is an appropriate costume. I was thinking maybe a green set of tights covered in dusty pollen with bits of leaves and branches and other debris hanging off of it. The symbol upon my chest would be a sparkling, crystal clear pool inside a red circle with a slash through it. Think there's a spot for me in the next X-Men movie?

Sunday, March 22, 2009

In focus

Funny thing. When reality snaps into focus, you have very little to say. I think all my passionate diatribes over the years were a result of fighting the immutable creeping glacier of reality...of what truly "is". Once accepted and understood, what else is there to talk about? Too many words equals anxiety. The truest thing I can say? I sleep better now...and that DOES speak volumes.

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Collective Community Individuality and Penis Proliferation

So I learned a few things at a Phycho Billy show at Audie's Olympic tonight, and I thought I'd share them with you:

-if people are drunk enough, they WILL drink a pitcher of beer with chunks of vomit floating in it. Yes, it actually happened. Needless to say, I have NEVER been that drunk.

-people like to express their rebellious individuality by looking EXACTLY like everybody within their peer group. I like to call it 'collective community individualism.'

-apparently, unknown to me, the chest tattoo has really taken off with women. Yes, thats right, it's not just for parolees anymore. Now, I don't mean some cutesy flower or heart tattooed near your breast that is hidden by your bra, but I'm talking about a huge mosaic that extends to your collar bone. Huh...You know, as a guy, I have to ask, 'When did breasts stop being enough? When did breasts start requiring 'flair'? It would seem to me on the old visual chart, boobs used to be right up there. In fact, they were easily top three in anybody's book. But now, apparently todays mindset is: "Yeah, nice tits, but you know, kinda tired, dontcha think? If you could work in some sort of gothic mural in there, that would be fabulous. Really gives the old tired titty look real pizazz!" Have we become so jaded, so blase, so numb as a society that good old fashioned luscious breasts no longer does it for us? And now we've got to dress them up to register on our radar? Sigh...I weep for the new generation.

-judging by the amount of times I was bumped into tonight, fat people REALLY HAVE NO CLUE how much space their girth actually takes up. I felt like I was stuck in the hippo pen at the zoo.

Other Thoughts:

-judging by the recent bombardment of penis enlargement ads, we are entering into some sort of penis arms race. Let me explain...Let's say all the teeny weenied guys out there get a hold of some miracle product that gives them a porn star penis. Then what? Well, the guys who were originally ahead of the game are not going to like the others catching up to them and are going to up the ante and have themselves enhanced, because they want to stay ahead of the crowd. And so on. But where does it end? This penis proliferation will eventually lead to a world of men with minimum 18" cocks with no practical application. So the women will have to get vaginal extension surgery to accommodate the new world order of guys with trouser anacondas, and the whole thing will just spiral out of control. Eventually we'll be a race of men who cannot stand up right due to the added weight in the crotch area, and the women will have the Grand Canyon for a vagina. Its not a pretty sight. Literally. Think about it. So folks, just chill out and just be happy your plumbing works...and if it doesn't...well, ok, kill yourself.

-my neighbors tree has extended so far over the fence line it's almost touching my house. For some reason this really bugs the shit out of me. It would bother me less if he just walked over to the fence and hung his dick over it. Because then, at the very least, it would tell me he was thinking and conscious of what he was doing. But this tree thing is clearly not on his radar, and he clearly doesn't give two shits. I think it's this natural manifestation of selfishness and narcissism that annoys me, because they are two of the qualities I find most repugnant in people. I'm contemplating my next move: either kindly ask him to trim his tree, or I'll just do it myself...by setting his entire back yard on fire. Both options have their pluses and minuses.

-OK, bed time.

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Random Thoughts

So I've recently been reintroduced to the awesome pleasure of the portable laptop/wireless internet combo. As I lay here in my ridiculously comfortable bed and type this, I am also listening to the new U2 album for free on their website. Ah...technology. It's a beautiful thing. And yet, technology is a demanding mistress who must be kept in check. Take the posting of rants for instance. I think it should be done in moderation, and only when you have something truly passionate, amusing, or interesting to say. However, lately I've felt like I needed to keep putting stuff out there, like I needed a steady stream of posts for reasons I really cannot comprehend. Probably ego. Probably a need for some sort of personal validation. Whatever. Problem is, volume does not always equal quality. Sometimes less IS more, so I'm going to dial back my posts until something really and truly motivates me................................................OK....two things did motivate me over the last few days, so I'll briefly share them here, and then, I SWEAR, I'll be cutting back for qualities sake.

Anyway, number one:

I saw a guy driving a Honda S2000 with the following personalized plate, "TUFRYDE". Um, not really. I mean, a Honda S2000 is a lot of things, but a TUFRYDE is not one of them. It's a Honda S2000, and you're a dude. May I suggest "GAYRYDE" as a more appropriate choice?

Number two:

I have lots of problems with Starbucks. I do not know why. But, if I'm in a hurry, that generally guarantees I have ZERO chance of getting out of there in any kind of reasonable time. Last Wednesday I was pushed for time, and had to do my eighty mile commute to work from West Sacramento to Oakland. I'm in a hurry, sleep deprived, and just want to get on the road. Naturally, the one person in front of me in line is explaining to the pimply faced teen working the counter how to make the perfect cup of tea. He's going on about the forests of Ceylon, and 'off the boil', and steeping techniques. Really? Is that necessary? I'm sorry...I thought it was FUCKING TEA. You know, that shit you put in hot water and let it soak? What the fuck dude? I know you're some old retired fuck who has no need to be anywhere, but Jesus Christ, nobody cares about your prattling on about the joys of Earl Grey! Of course, that wasn't all. He had to be social and talk up the staff. You know, spread a little joy. Want to know who wasn't feeling the joy? Me. Want to know what I was doing? I was concentrating every electron of hate I had in my body and shooting it out of my eyeballs like a microwave beam to the back of this crusty old shitbags head. I was really, really hoping I could make his brain boil and head explode. No, it didn't work, but not for my lack of trying. Anyway, he kept laughing and talking, and wouldn't stop. Just as I started looking around for a 1lb. bag of whole beans (Pike Place) to beat him into merciful silence with, he finally moved on, and I got my coffee and was out the door. I swear, I'm going to perfect that electron microwave beam thing, and when you start reading grisly stories about exploding heads in the paper, you'll know somebody was being a self centered dick at the wrong Starbucks at the wrong time.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

A Simple Blog

I had a conversation with a person the other day who stated my blogs could be a bit…”wordy” (I would have used the word “pedantic”, but maybe that’s just me being too “wordy” again). OK, fine. Maybe they can be a bit convoluted on occasion, but then again, so can I. So, if ‘ye olde blog is a reflection of the man behind the keyboard, so be it. Now, having said that, I am now going to write a simple and less wordy blog for those to enjoy who feel I can be a bit burdensome with my polysyllabic meanderings, prolix musings, and tedious and verbose tirades (ha! Get it? I just did it again! OK, whatever… I THOUGHT it was funny). I’m going to go for a trace of irony in that the blog will BE about groups of words, but I’m going to try mentally deglaze it and reduce it down:

"A Simple Blog About Common Sayings"

-“I’m bored to tears”. If acts of boredom reduce you to a crying heap, then a lack of mental stimulation isn’t really the problem, and the crying is clearly a sign of a deeper underlying emotional issue. "I’m bored to inattention and mental wandering" would make a lot more sense.

-“Wherever you go, there you are.” Unless of course you haven’t gone anywhere, and are already there. In that case it would be “Wherever you are, well, there ‘ya go.”

-“As useless as tits on a boar.” Has anybody ever asked the boar if those tits are of use? Perhaps we’re jumping to a false conclusion. Then again, if we’re talking about nice tits on a really boring person, then yeah, what a waste, and might be the one exception where being bored to tears may be appropriate.

-“I’ve got to piss like a racehorse.” What that would actually mean is “I have to urinate in a barn while walking around on all fours…and preferably into a large pile of straw.” How this conveys an urgency with your bladder and possible imminent loss of bladder control escapes me.

-“I’m wasted.” Really? I’ve never seen anybody at a party drink themselves to the point of starvation and emaciation. Then again, stating to anybody who will listen “I’m so inebriated that my gross motor control and division of attention is compromised” probably falls into the “too wordy” debate.

-“Fuck this.” Why? As an expression of bile and derision I would think engaging in the act of reproduction with said object of spite would be low on the list of activities said spite would inspire.

-“I screwed up.” No, “screwing up” would be an act of elevation, to rise above a starting point, and clearly this saying is meant as an act of failure and debasement. “I screwed down” would be more appropriate.

-“I’m doing great”. Really? Seems to me you’re standing here talking to me, which while maybe nice, fails to rise to the level of greatness. If you were donating your time building homes for the poor or finding a cure for some horrible disease, THAT would be the time for spontaneous statements of “I’m doing great! I’m doing great!”

-“I was dying on the inside.” Yes, you were. We`all were. Little by little every day. It’s called the irreversible act of aging and some would call the central ennui of the existential crisis we all fight every day.

Hmmm…I was going to go for ten examples, but that seemed too predictable, so I’m keeping it at an obtuse nine. And yes, in review, I still wandered into the wordy territory. C’est la vie, which is French for “bite me.”

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