floorpie

As in relationships, as in life, communication is key. So many hardships, break-ups, hurt feelings, deaths, and basic misunderstandings come from just. not. communicating effectively. Therefore, and on that note…what the fuck?:

This “helpful” sign is in the already bewildering and slight horrible parking lot of the Whole Foods in Hollywood. And the great thing is, there’s half a dozen of them.

I stared at this sign for a good full minute trying to understand it. “I can go right which is not actually right, or I can go left which is not actually left?” I took this picture, examined it later, and still am at a loss.

Is it a question? Is it asking me to tell it which is what?

Is it a philosophical statement? Whichever way you turn, you are where you are. Life is a highway. I want to ride it. All night long.

Is it The Scarecrow’s stand-in? (…I’m a little ridiculously proud of that one)

What are we doing in America? I mean, haven’t we messed up the world-stage enough in the last decade or so? Look, we had a good run. We did some good stuff. Stopping the Nazis was pretty big, giving Einstein a safe haven was a crown jewel, ending slavery was a good one…but now look at what we’re doing: With the exception of The Office, none of these British shows that get ported over to the US market are ever any good!

Seriously.

Look at these:
.: Who’s Line Is It Anyway? – Funny, but not as funny.
.: Coupling – Disaster
.: Iron Chef – This show is “ok”, but it’s the god-damned Bobby Flay Hour almost every episode. Don’t get me wrong, I love Flay, but show me some ol’ skool Morimoto for chrissakes. Oh, and the dubbing in the original is hilarious.
.: Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmares – The stress from the whole thing came from the fact that they were already way in debt and were about to go under. In the US version of this great show, suddenly Ramsay’s “design team” swoops in, throws money all over the place, and gives the restaurant a complete makeover. The only “stress” comes from all these American douchebags yelling at each other. Bleh.
.: Top Gear – There has been a long-rumored US-version of this brilliant show apparently in the works for some time now. I beseech, to all that is good and holy, please don’t fuck this one up, too, America.

I believe that children are our future.

My Memorial Day Weekend, in Quantities

(1) badly sliced thumb that now has an interesting chunk taken out of it
(1) canceled-at-the-last-minute trip to Seattle
(2) missed BBQ’s due to,
(4) days of being sick
(3) rolls of toilet paper as Kleenex substitute
(a billion) hours of playing GTA IV

LA is selling a lot of BMW’s, lately. 3 people at work have gotten BMW’s within the last 6 months. On my way in this morning, I saw one new 3-series and two brand new 5-series (series’s? serieses? serii?)…one of which that had made the exceedingly poor decision of replacing the standard blue and white BMW badge with a custom pink and white one.
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See? Because it’s a girl driving! So, it’s pink. Get it? Girl power! Because girls like pink! Oh, it’s so cheeky!

What ever happened to the good ol’ Trans AM?

You forget that you’re a dork (and even start to think that you’re actually kind of cool and always have been), until you’re explaining in great and thorough detail who Colonel Nick Fury is and his relationship to Iron Man on the way back to the parking structure.

You know the Google search box on Firefox? Of course you do because you’re internet-savvy. You ain’t no luddite, you. You’re not using Internet Explorer like a douche, you’re all about Firefox…or at least Opera.

I’ve decided to start leaving clues to myself via the Google search box. The thing is, because it’s a mystery, I have no idea what the clues are to…but I hope to be able to figure it out eventually.

Anyway, I’ve started leaving these clues for me to find the next time I open up my laptop. Today’s clue was ROASTED POTATOES. Yesterday was FACE CLEAVAGE.

I think it’s a murder mystery.

I really need to get my life in order. More often than not, I come home, turn on the TV, and then just space out until I’m too tired to keep my eyes open. This is not something that I would usually do. Usually, I would come home, turn on the TV, and then DO something until I’m too tired to keep my eyes open. There’s a subtle, yet important difference.

Part of the problem is the shambles that is my personal life has left me feeling very listless. I go in spurts of going out a lot (and by “a lot”, I mean like 5 times a week), followed by a couple of weeks of keeping my head down and not answering the phone, and then back to going out a lot. All of it is empty and meaningless, however, which leaves me feeling even more listless, and killing small parts of what little is left of my soul.

Bart, Pablo Neruda said, “Laughter is the language of the soul.”
I am familiar with the works of Pablo Neruda.

I’m having trouble focusing on the things that I should be doing…other than work, that is. I’m putting in a good 50 hours/week at work for whatever that’s really worth (other than distracting me, which is partially the point). So I’m thinking I need to get back into the habit of making Lists.

Lists are not something that you just enter into willy-nilly (yes, I went there), however. There are rules. Coincidentally, these rules are also in list-form”

Rules for Lists

1. Lists must have nearly achievable goals. CLEAN-OUT GARAGE is acceptable. SLEEP WITH JESSICA ALBA PRE-PREGNANCY is not.
2. Lists may not contain minutiae. Things like BREATHE and FANTASIZE ABOUT JESSICA ALBA PRE-PREGNANCY are inevitable and near-constant. Therefore, they are not List-worthy
3. Lists must have ringers. Despite Rule #2, there should be a few things on the list that are semi-easily achievable. This will give you a sense of accomplishment and bolster you to tackle some of the harder items. GET HAIRCUT is a popular choice.
4. Lists must contain no more than 10 active items at one time. Because really, if you have more than 10 things on your List, what are you dicking around writing lists for?

So, in my case, other than FIND WOMAN OF DREAMS, LIVE HAPPILY EVER-AFTER I have a number of things that I really should be doing these days. Not least of which is writing on this blog more often. It at least helps to keep my brain from drying out.

Mostly.

No, but seriously. Vacation.

One day I was at the bar between races and I saw this woman. God or somebody keeps creating women and tossing them out on the streets, and this one’s ass is too big and this one’s tits are too small, and this one is mad and that one is crazy and that ones is a religionist and that one reads teal leaves and this one can’t control her farts, and that one has this big nose, and that one has boney legs…

But now and then, a woman walks up, full blossom, a woman just bursting out of her dress…a sex creature, a curse, the end of it all.

-Henry Chinaski aka Charles Bukowski

It’s Saturday morning. Did you know that…that it’s Saturday? Beautiful Saturday morning in beautiful southern California.

Well I didn’t know it. I woke up this morning, bleary-eyed and a little confused. I’d been having a dream about my ex which made me simultaneously happy and sad, and now it was morning I thought. I rolled over, and saw that it was 6:38AM, which meant I could sleep another hour or so before I had to get up and take a shower and head in to work. We have a weekly Monday Morning Meeting at 9 and I didn’t want to be late. I rolled over to my other side and woke up my laptop. My laptop which now sleeps next to me as a replacement for the non-existent girlfriend that used to be there (sigh), and checked my meeting schedule. Turns out I don’t have any…BECAUSE IT’S SATURDAY.

I need a vacation.