Crank

I have a pretty good feeling that Crank is going to be the worst movie of all time. I hope there are nude girls in it.

Pet Peeve

I'm mellow. Aside from dominating the blogosphere, i dominate very little.  The world is there, and I am here, and that is fine. From nine 2 five I don't like to rock the boat too aggressively.  However, at five 0 one i like to think that i become a shark in a coy pond - rock it, scare it, get nuts. BUT, the things that happen during the regular working hours of 9 until 5 are often the most interesting and memorable things of the whole day. (at least what we can remember, nudge nudge)

I'm talking about your pet peeves. Even the word "peeve" makes me want to scream a scream that makes the hairs on your spine stand on end. I hate those that word (peeve), as much as i hate the actions that are given the name. Personally, my number one...loud chewing.  I could seriously slap someone with chop sticks if they chew loudly in my ear - no hesitation.  Thank the precious lord for ipods because people in the office chew loudly in the office constantly. And honestly, I can say that I do NOT blame the chewers, but rather the asshole office space planners that chose the 4 inch high walls opposed to the 12 inch sound (somewhat) blocking walls - or even better the officles now readily available . To all of your office space planners that recommend this 4 inch - team building feature -they're assholes - i recommend the 12 inchers.  For the record, I'm less friendly with people I watch pick their noses for 9 hours a day than those i don't see do that. Anyway. Sorry. 

What is your pet... fuck, i cant do it. I hate that word too much. What is the offense that will  make you slap someone with an unbroken pair of chop sticks for? 

Brief ending side note - Chop Sticks because they wont hurt someone as much as they'll really surprise them. 

ok that was negative. apologize. 

i do, however, like the sociableness for the 15 minutes a day that we all talk. 

it is through loving someone more that you learn to love someone less. 

Tell Me About It.

So, i'm pretty much over this blog thing. As a window into your own soul it sucks. I've made 10 posts and I dont feel like the world understands me any better. And the fact that everyone, anyone, can just stop in, read and then leave. Well, thats just the age in which we live.

I mean, really it's reality television for everyone else that isn't dysfunctional enough to get on to "Shot of Love with Teela Tequilla." So in keeping with my protest, I implore you to tell me about a time in your life when you were at your best. This is a selfish endeavor, seeing people at their worst isn't fun, so show me your best. It doesn't have to be when you were the BEST at any one thing, but just a time in your life that you were at your best. Also, please save your fuckin resumes for someone else - if you think I care about your i-banking internship, you should find a different wall to write on. Aside from you, if you're like most of us this was a fleeting moment but if you're lucky it was few minutes, moments or it's still happening. Tell me about it - like a call in radio show: tell me about it. ha - thats a good name for a blog.

15 Step Video that I made

The New Look Americans

Glowing ember of light,
Shining through a cold war, big fight.
Your colors red, blue and white
Oh, YAYY!! What might

Then the father of a boy rose to power
Under his political tutelage a family did flower
While in office he made the world cower
And the image of America did sour.

The next eight years brought us a Clinton.
He had the pundits smitten
While in office he went crazy for the kitten
But in the end, even he was bitten.

The Son of the father was next in line
After the election America felt fine
A few months in and suddenly the worlds worst crime
Uh oh, from the growing darkness we got a horrific sign.

Then a war, a storm and a crisis came along
Looks like America has taken too many hits from the bong
A stuttering president cannot sing a soothing song
All we hear in the news is that we're always wrong.

Tonight, Americans made history
What happens now is a mystery
A change was needed; easy to see
A stable, happy and peaceful country is a myth to me

Our future is only a guess
We could be diving further into a blurry mess
But of America the world could not think much less
Of that, I am embarrassed, I must confess.

A smart decision is not an individual win
A black president is not a cardinal sin
In fact, it gives us a leader that I'm proud to call my kin
And a new chapter for America can begin.

A little less average

So Im a white guy. Average. Basically what you’d expect. Grew up in a fancy town, with some pretty fancy friends, but no one too fancy. Went to a good school, but not too good, just good. Recently got job with a reputable consulting firm, but nothing too great, just a job.

Consultants travel. Constantly. A consultant has no company to call his own. The universe of American business is home, I guess. And that’s ok. Because businesses all look the same anyway. When you walk into any hotel room, you instantly know that it’s not home. When you walk into a business, you can’t tell the difference between AT&T and Goldman Sachs, they are indiscernible. Depressing?

The next time you drive down the highway through a rough part of New Jersey, and you say to your co-pilot “Ugh, what is that smell? How does this happen? Look at this, it’s awful!” That is business too. It happens there too.

They sent me there. A few thousand average people like me packed like scared puppies into a glass cube in the middle of awful. Inside the cube it’s the same as every other place, New York, San Francisco, Boston. Outside, it is very different. Not average.

Two weeks passed and I took less than 50 breaths of actual fresh Newark air. As my hotel is attached to the office I can go from my room to my office without ever going outside, or touching the ground even. Listening to my gut, I avoided going into awful. Weekends provided enough fresh air. Live to consult another day, right?

Wrong. Agoraphobia is unbecoming. Wednesday of week three; Breakout. Taking only the clothes on my back: Black Banana Republic pants, slim fit white and brown shirt, black loafers, sunglasses; and an unhealthy fear of the awful outside, I busted loose from the lunch line in the corporate cafeteria in search of something awful.

The loafers touch their first awful sidewalk. Regret. This town doesn’t seem to appreciate average white kids. One block in and one block away from the office. So far so good. Still alive.

Definitely began this trip on edge. Maybe the air conditioning finally got to my brain. Had to mix it up today. But. Should have planned this out.

Wandering. A few people walk past and don’t notice me. Just another corporate pilgrim. A guy asks for money, and when I don’t comply with his request he sears me with his hatred. I really don’t have anything for him, only plastic.

More relaxed, I tune into other senses. Hunger and smell. There is the scent of burning meat. It’s coming from a block ahead. Wandering over, following my nose, I post up in line inside a Carnisqueria. Not an Au Bon Pain.

Seven dollars bought a rack of ribs, a pound of fries with rice to match, and a soda. My nose didn’t fail me. Cooked over a wood-burning fire pit and seasoned with their sauce and spice mix. A perfect crisp of skin, sauce and spice. “Thank you,” I said to the cashier. “You’re welcome,” she replied. Looking around at the tables, I know that I’m not welcome as more than a day-time guest, regarless this so isn’t awful. My appearance is out of place; my enjoyment of this meal is not.

Retreat and return. Back to the ivory tower. Food coma. Nothing that can’t be fixed with a coffee. Stuffed. Satisfied. Scared shitless, no more. Sitting at my desk. Starting to sift and test as part of my average job I can still taste the salty and charred lunch. Quietly, my tongue picks at my teeth. I smile because I feel a little less average. But only a little.