July 29, 2009
Expired
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July 27, 2009
5 MPH
I love Austin, but the infrastructure here is screwed up. This city is not built to support the number of people that live in it. Much to the chagrin of my friends I complain about this often, but this afternoon I feel a little vindicated.
A man pulled a gun on himself in a park near a highways (Mopac, also known as Hwy 1) which forced law enforcement to shut down part of that highway, and the ensuing traffic practically shut down the entire city. One friend drove an hour to get 6 blocks across downtown. Last I heard he’s still sitting there.
I shudder to imagine what would happen if there was a real emergency. Like a natural disaster, or a threat… like terrorism, or an attack by a prehistoric monster that freed itself from the bonds placed upon it deep inside the rock of the hill country.
We’d all be fucked.
It would be like the movie Cloverfield, except two hours shorter, because it would just be gridlock, and then gobbled by monsters.
How to go hungry on 20 dollars.
Go to Hooters.
- Order drinks, fried pickles, and 20pc plate of wings.
- Discover hair all over wings.
- Return wings, fear eating anything else at establishment that might have come into contact with their fryer, and or batter (including consuming any more of previously ordered fried pickles)
- Don’t complain, pay for the fried picks and drinks, and tip the waitress (since you figure it wasn’t really her fault).
- 15 dollars
Drive over to P. Terry’s Hamburger stand.
- -Order hamburger
- -Order Chocolate Shake
-5 dollars
Arrive at office and discover that hamburger is raw.
Subsist on chocolate shake. Lose remaining faith in strangers handling your food preparation.
Memorably moments from today’s experience:
-Explaining to the Hooter’s waitress that there are no “blond” haired chickens.
-Listening to this mumbled sentence from the manager in the way of an apology: “chickens, sometimes we get, have hair that they not always get. Not always, just… yeah.”
Yes, Hooter’s manager, thank you for clearing that up for me.
July 15, 2009
discount unsold wallpaper
From: Tenant – Building B – Suite 123
To: Facilities Manager
Subject: Ouch.
Dear Facilities Manager
The low priced tree bark you have put in the men’s bathroom in place of toilet paper is making my anus bleed. Please consider the invaluable investment that is gentle sanitary products.
Sincerely,
A. Tenant
From: Facilities Manager
To: Tenant – Building B – Suite 123
Subject: RE: Ouch.
Dear Cherished Tenant,
Try not wiping as hard.
-Facilities Management
The secrets of “Old.”
I’m beginning to suspect that old people hide the secrets of oldness, possibly so as to not scare children out of aging. They only reveal the downsides well after you have past the opportunity to make other choices as regards the process of aging. Up until it’s too late they regale you only with stories about going out when you want too, staying up late, and getting to drive.
I just found out that as you grow older your skin apparently grows thinner. The concept that the fabric my organs have clothed themselves in can become threadbare is so foreign, the possibility so outside of anything I’ve ever considered, that I find it wholly frightening.
This is something someone should have mentioned before, damn it. I definitely would have made other choices had I some notice. I might have been a little more cautious with it, a little less reckless with how I let it wear through, or the places that I carelessly ripped holes, or even who I let patch it (definitely a more serious skinstress than my mother).
Now all I can do is add it to the list of things old people never thought to mention. Below random spots, but well above strange smells and unreasonably located hair. I’m thinking right in the middle… somewheres around the many horrors of sagging.
July 10, 2009
“Staff of Knowing”
There is no way for me to word the following thought without it coming off as crass, so you’ll just have to take it as it comes… I’m amused that Levi Johnston is somehow considered an authority on the Palin family when his only qualification appears to be that he got away with putting his dick in one of them.
June 29, 2009
Interpretations Requested
There is a recurring figure that appears in my dreams, a medieval warrior who keeps a gigantic bird of prey, the size of a man, as a pet. Sporadically the bird will appear flying around the skies of my dreams, and my unconscious whispers that the warrior is nearby.
Last night I dreamed that the bird called and dropped from the sky to land on my arm. He was huge. Before his size could cause me full blown panic I launched the bird back into the air, but instead of flying off he dove back, over the edge of the balcony, and into what I assume was a giant air conditioning unit, because all I saw next was an explosion of feathers. I couldn’t bring myself to look over the edge. I think I might have killed my dream bird…
What the hell does that mean?
