Maritime Wonders

San Pedro, 8/31/08.

City Sky and the Beauty Therein

View from Broadway Ave., Hawthorne, CA on 8/29/08.

Character Building

I like to think that much of my early adolescence was spent developing a solid sense of personal identity, principle, and purpose. Experience was the grand facilitator, however vicarious - as I have TV to thank for much of it.

Below is a list of skills learned and qualities relative to my (current) disposition. All are accompanied by explanations - YouTube clips of the aforementioned TV influences.

- ANALYSIS
- NEGOTIATION
- CONDUCT
- COGNIZANCE
- EMPATHY

Any person who assumes that TV is an incomplete educational tool probably did not have enough Scott Bakula in their formative years.

I Am Here to Help

I found myself home at 1:30AM last night; I had been out all day with a friend from high school who happened to be in town for a business conference.  As it turns out, she is seriously considering migrating to Los Angeles and therefore requested a tour of the city.  She confided to me, "there is no hope anymore in Pittsburgh," (for herself) and that she was looking for a place which is less miserable overall.  

So I thought, hey, what is the best way to present L.A.'s most resplendent qualities and character to a total newbie?  DUH!  Sojourn everywhere by train and county bus!  And boy, did Los Angeles ever bestow itself resolutely.  Here are some of the more memorable episodes:

1. Cross-eyed, cracked-out woman on the Blue Line shuffling down the aisle and muttering, "All I gots is what I gots.  Anybody can you spare me juss 35 cent?  JUSSSS 35 CENT-AHHH!"

2. Elderly homeless man on the Red Line blowing spit bubbles and chewing loudly at other commuters.  WHILE SMILING.

3. Two young men in matching t-shirts on the Trolley to Manhattan Beach who asserted repeatedly, "We ain't got no jobs, but we ENTREPRENEURS.  You wanna make some money!?"

4. Tranny hooker on Hollywood Blvd.

5. Hollywood smoke shop employee who insisted, "Y'know, I'm a doctor.  I can get you a license and get you some real good shit! I mean, this shit will FUCK YOU UP.  Just come back to me when you move into town.  Fuck Pennsylvania, that shit is WEAK.  It's legal here, you knowwhataaahhmsayin'!

6. Very short man and his gargantuan ladyfriend on the Blue Line who were lovely enough to serenade the entire train car with Ol' Dirty Bastard on his boombox, then rap a freestyle jam about character #7.  "This is Amer-ica, you crazy bitch, donnn't be givin' me yo' nasty itch!  You look like you gonna stab me, ho, I bet 'cause you can't handle my FLOW."

7. Homeless elderly woman who proceeded to chide the very short man for his loud music.  "AHHH CANNN'T HEAR MAH STOP.  YOUR MUSIC IS TOO LOUD."

--

In case you were wondering, my friend is now totally sold.  L.A. is truly the promised land!

LOLBush

Courtesy of the Guardian UK, courtesy of Steph at the workplace -














More here!

Just Try And Tell Me This is Not Fly.

I feel fulfilled.  Finally, after multiple failed attempts, I've obtained a download of the song, "Are You Jimmy Ray?" by...uh, Jimmy Ray.

For years this song has been stuck in my head.  It manifests inexplicably, and at very inopportune moments. 

For your viewing pleasure, here is the music video:

HOW FANTASTIC IS THIS?!

Oh Jimmy Ray, I am feelin' dangerous!  Therefore, I might as well admit - at least once, back in the day, I tried to imitate the ghettofab dance moves in this video.  Because in 1997 / 1998, this was not only forgivable - it was actively encouraged, as a sober venture even! (...Albeit by individuals equally as sad as myself).   I survived it, and considering, I think I've turned out well - for example, I've never expressed interest in becoming a cheerleader.

Now please excuse me while I download an embarrassing amount of Coolio, Jock Jams, and SKEE-LO!

I KNEW IT

http://www.cnn.com/2008/US/08/14/spies.revealed.ap/index.html

Julia Child? Spy.

Ain't No Party Like a Massive Software Party

...Because where else will you find drunken synchronized swimmers? Seriously, they were blasted. And not very synchronized. Unfortunately, my camera died before I could capture the fully inebriated glory, but here's a shot of the beautiful crowd (or, about 1/5 of it) -














Also, fire makes me totally HOT. Get it? Like, sexy hot. (HAWT, if you will). ...Ha! I am so clever with wordplay!














<----Teh Sexxxxay. One drink later, and hawter still -














Many thanks to my industry hook-up! High five FREE DRINKS and FOOD. *Emphatic Fist Pump, Arsenio-Hall-Dogg Pound-Whooof*

The World Will Implode Tomorrow

Why? Because I've been invited to a VIP House Party at L.A.'s Custom Hotel - a burlesque show / circus riot for the world's most beautiful, discriminating people. You guessed it - software engineers!

I will be rubbing elbows with the Who's Who in the world of programmer geeks (and the like). This is undoubtedly treacherous, as my entire being is something of a magnet (though mostly for flamboyant gay men, and cat hair) - but, magnets are bad for computers. I, as history has revealed, am bad for computers. One can only assume that my presence at this event will explicably cast a pox on the hosting company's integrated computational solutions system. Or whatever the fuck they produce.

They have an open bar. And fire-breathers! I do believe this to be a winning combination, at least.

Questions I'm Most Often Asked by Strangers

1. Are you a dancer?
Often followed by an intensely creepy remark such as, "you know, YOU MOVE LIKE ONE."

2. Have you accepted Jesus into your life?
To this I most often respond with unintentional sarcasm. Like, "Jesus is totally my master. I love being a serf for Jesus." I'm trying to seem sincere; but I will invariably fail each time - whether by vocal tone, facial expression, or inappropriate word choice. That, and the proselytizing population can inherently detect that I was raised by hippies/devil worshippers.

3. Are you from Russia or something?
Actually, I am. You may have gathered this by noticing my indecipherable accent and the fact that I carry vodka with me everywhere I travel. Also, the babushka is a flagrant clue.
---

I'm beginning to wonder if I would elicit any stares should I combine these observations into one glorious fashion statement. If I publicly exhibited myself as a Russian ballerina/nun, would people even take a second glance? Or is this style entirely applicable to my disposition? I'm beginning to think that it is. I've got the Russian look, whatever that is, and I totally have access to a nun outfit (we've got an ex-nun in the family!) All I need now is a pink tutu, a pair of flats, and a tailor who is willing to create something atrocious for the sake of my whim. I should really contact Project Runway.

I May Want to Stay Here

I've been engulfed by fresh paint fumes since 7:45 this morning and I've got a live version of Pearl Jam's "Yellow Ledbetter" stuck in my head. Truly I am feeling a catharsis at this very moment.