Canterbury [Man] Down

I won three-eighty.
After I spent 15.
I had this instinct about a horse named Marco Salt.
It's what happens EVERY time we gamble. I spend the afternoon betting paltry amounts on the underdog or the neglected machine. I lose.
Matt bets huge on several hands of poker and ends up getting "screwed by [fill in the blank]...and why do we even come here? I don't have money to spend on this! I want another piece of camera equipment."
"No, Matt. No."
"But this just...aaaah! I HATE gambling!"

I've Got Observations About So Many Things, But Not About Cars

I'm driving down 70th when my car is schmacked by a piece of branch or someshit launched out of an industrial mower. Aside from the pee running down my leg, this isn't an emergency, so I can't pull over and stop traffic.
I reach my destination and bend down by the side of the car. Those bastards! I've probably got a gaping hole in my....lower bumperish-side-fender thing.
I see that there are many dents. So very many.
And honestly, I don't remember any of them.
Those bastards! That flying tree made at least 40 dents of varying sizes and severity!

Behind the Music: Ugly Homes

The split level home peaked in the 1950s and has continued to quietly prosper ever since.
Yes.
Yes, people. That is what I'm talking about.

As the Home Commission Board Members twirl tiny straws in their Manhattans, the scene unfolds:
"A toast!"
Echoed, "A toast!"
"To James 'Carpenter' Level and Johnny 'Banana' Split, inventors of the Split-Level--"
"It's 'Level-Split,' All Brick Housing."
"To Level Split!"
"No, it's 'Split-Level' Housing Industry Incorporated Limited, Home of Aluminum Siding'"
"Whelp, in either case!"
"Another round!"
"Anyway, let's hear it for these guys, eh? Way to go, boys."
"You sly son of a..."
-----Business Lunch Brawl Ensues---------
Many hours later as Level and Split survey the plans over Gin and Tonics:
"Heck, let's do it. Let's please all of the people all of the time. Half brick, half aluminum siding."
"That's damn classy."
"You're damn classy."
"You're just saying that."
"No, seriously."
-----Back at the Office Two Person Brawl Ensues-----
Ugly ass homes are built around the Continental US. Level and Split leave a legacy of hideous houses, but blow their entire fortune on coke and prostitutes.

Joyride!

Newly returned from Cub Foods where I rocked an abandoned electric cart in the parking lot. My accomplices noticed a key in the ignition and I went Evil Knievel around a pole.
Breaking news: I was just interrupted by my dad who is giggling at a Pampers commercial: "Potty training is the largest challenge. Second is sleeping all night. It's a balance between intimidation and utility."
Naturally, I did not ask for an explanation. I prefer to decode his messages in sleep. And when they apply.
Which is to say, in about 10 years.

Where's My Soapbox?

dog toy
Originally uploaded by Sriracha.

Arggggh.
Listen up, children. You want to know why I leap out of reach of your pets? Why I gag at the sight of animal-human smooching? Here's the truth.
It's not that my dad hates animals because he's not good at sharing his space.
It's not about Lo, my beautiful fish whom Meg accidentally seared on the window sill when I left for Ireland. Although that was incredibly traumatic. All water under the bridge, Meg. You know I love you.
This is why I don't like animals: they eat things that are not food.
Nooooooo. Whyyyyyyy.
Not you, my precious Flip Flops.
Oh, Flip. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have left you alone with those doggies.
Flop, forgive me. If I had known, I could have protected you.
I would have. Please, believe me.

Evening Showers; Humid with a Chance of Cute Hair

Keyboarding or AIR GUITAR?!?!
Originally uploaded by Sriracha.

Shoot!
My best hair is happening after midnight.
Right now.
This is it.
This is my best hair.
It's summertime, which means that no matter when you shower, you will sweat again. I don't mind sweating. I mind showering. I have a one shower per diem limit.
The few benefits of the evening shower:
1. eliminates 60% of hairdrying overheat (approximately)
2. creates cute going-out hair in the event that I might leave the house
3. blog-inspiration
4. guaranteed ponytail the next day
When I am in sleep-prep mode, my hair looks freakin awesome. I mean, really. The bang behaves; the layers flip in whatever direction they choose; I look like a rock star.
I should take up the synthesizer.
Right now I am rocking out this keyboard as if it were a groovy synth. It is not.
Or it is and the music I make is this very post.
Yesssssssssssssss.

Midnight Snack Musing

Fun size candy bars are only fun if you have two or more.
And that is not the serving size.

Senior Discount(ed)

Remember that time we were walking around Calhoun and that old guy passed us...?
Walking?
And how he was a few yards ahead for at least a quarter of a mile while we marveled and tried in vain to pump our arms with enough force to overtake him?
Yeah.
And then we saw our chance and took the off-road path for a few seconds to pass him back (the shame morphed into vengeance so quickly).
Remember how we had to cheat to beat the old guy who walked faster than us?

No, me neither.

Catatonic Carly

"The best part of wakin' up...is stickin to the couch."
She's singing to the tune of Folgers.
Carly has just spent the last few morning hours sleeping off her exhaustion after...sleeping.
She complained briefly about the heat, though she is wearing sweatpants and is covered by a down blanket. She threatened to turn on the air which we can't because
1. It's not actually that hot. She's got that just-woken-up-sweaty-nap thing happening.
2. Mom and I hate the air conditioning. All of the windows are closed and what since I'm so hard at work, sometimes I don't get to go outside that often. I love the smell of summer. That's enough to make me defend number 3...
3. No authority. When you live with the Poppa, you don't touch the thermostat.
Now she's talking to the tv: "My day just keeps getting better!...The Laguna Beach Preview Special and they introduced me to all new people. Then, I twisted my back. And then I burped."
Somebody employ this woman.

Ode to the Bus

A poetic narrative in the freest free verse ever writ:

Metro Transit, what joy to me you bring.
I f'ing love riding Downtown.
Route 6, (minus the time that guy got stabbed) is where I long to linger.
In the window I pinch a finger.
(Crap. That hurt.)

I drift off into sleep when my head jerks back
Awake (Did I miss the stop? Where am I? Is that drool?)
I lean head-on-arm and slack-jawed again
Until Southdale.

And now, an interlude:

To the driver whose socks are long and smiles thin:
It'd be sweet if you were cheerful like the other guy. He always says, "Have a good one." Don't you want me to have a good one?
Oh. Well. Now I know.

To that lady wearing the stank ass perfume:
Don't do that anymore. No, I'm not kidding. You smell ridiculous. Can you smell that? It's you.

To the guy who checks out EVERY woman:
Oh, now. Please. Ew. Go sit with the stinky lady.

And now, a conclusion:
Fin.

Fun with Nature

Fun with Nature
Originally uploaded by Sriracha.

Yesterday, Mom and I walked to the ice cream store in the sweltering heat. You know how hot it was. (So hot).
I thought I was hallucinating when, along the way, we passed a bunch of reeds and for the first time in my life (!) I saw cattails.
Well, excuse me for saying, but they look much more like corndogs. I've attached a Sharpie rendition for your perusal.
I propose a renaming committee take this issue on immediately. Will anyone sign my petition?

The Misanthrope

We drive home in silence waiting for Dad to combust. "Unbelievable. Just unbelievable."
This week, the targets are many: "There were so many people in that church who should have been punished today."
1. Music makers
2. Families with small children who feel the need to integrate their young and refuse the Crying Room
3. Music makers
4. Anyone wearing printed t-shirts (e.g. Proud Supporters of Chicks with Sticks)
These outbursts are expected. He does this every week. "I need to find a new religion." Unfortunately, most religions encourage communal worship, and it's the people he can't stand.
Usually we end up laughing at the ridiculousness, but today he says, "all I can do is cry." I promise not to tell the internet when he says, "I just wanted to take a bat and go up and down the aisles." Then, we have lunch.

Move Over, Harry Potter

Handful of Wonder
Originally uploaded by Sriracha.

There's a new Wizard in town and his name is Mr. Sharpie Marker and you can find him and 15 of his closest friends at Sam's Club.
Is there anything so magical?

We're in a Fight

Starbucks, you selfish bastard.
You lure me in with your boast of being a hot-spot and your delicious blended coffee. It’s bad enough to be a Siren, but YOU LIED. You didn’t tell me that I’d have to pay for wi-fi. I’ll take a vanillablendedcremewithwhippedcreamandfreewirelessinternetaccess, please. But you don’t serve those. And now here I am with my pretty little Acer, but I’ll have to take my 'puter home before I can even post this rant against you!
And another thing, when I say I want whipped cream, what I mean is, “No. I don’t. It gives me a tummy ache. Please. Don’t give the girl whipped cream.” I realize that’s a little confusing. Just pretend it’s opposite day.
I wish I couldn’t get access to the internet here.
This is so convenient.
It doesn’t get any more convenient than this.

What? Are you too good for reverse psychology?! I HATE YOU, STARSUCKS! Take that and DON'T REVERSE IT!

Reasons No. 5432 and 5433 I love high school brains:

"How do you spell maroon?"
"M-A-R-O-O..."
"Oh, like Maroon 5."
"Yes."
------------------------------------------------
"I swear there's some animal that's orange."
"The scarfaced tiger?"
"No. Wait. That's an orange."
"Huh?"
"Like the fruit."
"Yes, the fruit is orange."
"That's what I was trying to remember."

Up, up on The Range

I was in Buhl.
I didn't want you to be alarmed, so I didn't tell you I'd be leaving. I'm sorry.

I'm back now.
And how.

I shot a pellet gun. About 15 minutes later (after I signed on with the County Sherriff's as a sharp shooter), I held and fired a .22 caliber pistol. I won't do that anymore. It was very loud.
Plus, I'm better with a pellet gun. You should see the Nabisco canister riddled with dents.

I sat by a man who was unable to control the decibel of his voice. He tried to make casual conversation: "THIS IS A GREAT YEAR FOR RASPBERRIES!"

I drank the finest water in America. (Good.)

I visited the largest iron-ore pit in the world. (Big.)

I spent five hours at a casino. (Boo.)

I heard a 59 year old marriage speak:
"Are you speeding?"
"You're seein cock-eyed. You need new glasses."
"This is true."

And:
"No, I...I can't remember that fellow's name."
"You're old."

And:
"I was one sick cookie."
"You're old."

And:
"You're old."
"You're old."

A Photographic Essay

Photo Attack (no. 1)
Originally uploaded by Sriracha.

I'll let the pictures tell a story. (Mom, you click on the picture to the right and it will take you to the rest of the photos at Flickr. Just go with it.)
Ideally, these pictures will tell the story of a girl who had big fun with her friends, drank a little too much, and then was really snotty by the end of the night and told her boyfriend that she hated him. She didn't mean it.
I also hope they'll tell the story of some random guy who walked in to Brent's house "looking for a party". Um, hello...who are you? He left before I got a photo, but that picture you can create in your mind.
And my favorite part: when we decided on Herkimer, which was just the right amount of busy and we got a spot right in front at a meter that we didn't have to feed AND THEN the bouncer told me I have a beautiful smile. BEAT THAT! Nobody told Kristen that she had nice tits and she was sort of bummed about that. Understandably.
This post goes out to her. Your boobs are great, Kris.

8 Lives Left

It was funny. If you don't like cats. Straight out of a Tom Green movie (and please don't confuse my meaning: I do not think that Tom Green movies include good quality humor, but I'm sure that they include violence toward animals). So as we are terribly, horribly lost coming home last night, a cat sprints out across the road. We're already flustered about going in the wrong direction. Carly says, "I just killed a cat."
We all squeal and lift up our feet. I'm on the phone with Matt who hears the commotion and now I am screaming to make him hear what has happened. To let him know that we are not wrecked. A pause, and then, "Ooh. It's running back. I didn't kill it...I hit a cat! I'm going to be so nice to cats from now on."
"What? Because of this? You didn't do it on purpose."
"Well, I'm not gonna kick 'em anymore."

Sisters, sisters who are frieeeeeends. Are the luckiest people in the worrrrrrrrrrrrrld.

As we were getting ready to go out tonight, Carly says to me (in her Kip Dynamite voice):
"So I was thinking how we're pretty much BFFs.
And I pretty much love it."
We laughed because we pretty much are.
And it's pretty much the best thing ever.

Who Loves You?

Yes, ok. I am the cutest baby.
Originally uploaded by Sriracha.

We have family in town for the fourth and thereafter.
I am holed up in my room to type absent the wobbly wanderer that is Elliot. Elliot has been walking since 8 months and will be celebrating his 1 year (first birthday, they call it) next week. He must be predominantly accelerated. And a future athlete.
Please, Elliot, become an athlete and get paid lots of money and support your cousin who has chosen poverty in career and love.
Please?
I'll give you some Cheerios and watch you eat them.
Or a bottle?
You like bottles, right? Isn't that what babies want?
Wait. You're pooping again.
Ok. A little privacy?
Just come see me when you're ready and you've signed a muti-million dollar contract.

Cub Foods and Votive Candles: a partnership in food, faith.

Virgen de Guadalupe
Originally uploaded by Sriracha.

Ever since she entered our kitchen a few days ago, the Virgin of Guadalupe has brought nothing but good eats. Pictured is Mom's kick a** homemade Chex Mix. Not pictured are the cookies from our neighbor, Pam and the Angel Food Cake from our neighbor, Debbee.
This Virgin is here to stay.
I realize that the BVM is not a patron saint of cooking or even homes, but she's got pull and I think she's doing great work.

Bang on the Fourth of July

She Bangs
Originally uploaded by Sriracha.

Here they are.
Can you see how irritated I am?
If I'm lucky, the fireworks tonight will send down some schrapnel and singe this fringe off once and for all.

All Aboard

Jean Claude Van Damme.
Four words.
One bragging right: Worst movie actor. EVER.
Last evening we viewed his "film" (I use the word loosely), Derailed.
Tagline: The deadliest disease ever discovered is about to be unleashed on the world.
What they meant to say: This movie is the deadliest disease ever. Don't come near it. Please. Run away and catch a plane to the farthest reaches of the earth to escape this ridiculously embarassing waste of film.
IMDB.com lists only one of the many goofs. The rest include such blunders as:
1. No coherent timeline. We are lead to believe that this movie is linear, but if the shots are chronological, how can a man who is shot atop a speeding train car in one scene enter the VERY NEXT SCENE, inside the train with no visible wounds?
2. Laughably bad dialogue. This is only a blunder if you're the writer. The shame. "My God!"
3. Cast. Jean Claude and his biological son Kristopher van Varenberg. I can see why he's not trading on his daddy's name. A little nepotism goes a long way in ruining careers, dear.
4. Inexplicably shameful graphics, technology, and use of stock helicopter footage. That includes the use of a green screen during all train-top fights.

Many thanks to Dan, Matt, D, and his roommates for ridiculing Derailed with great honesty. Their comments inspired this post.