Untitled

Help me. I need a new template

Any ideas? I'm thinking something more now less then. Less dark nighttime, more stark DAYLIGHT. And, I'm tired of this green font for the headers. So, what am I supposed to do?

P.S. I'm going to see Ichiro and the Ichiros VS. the scary testoster-Yankees tonight. I'm going to sit in the Ichiro section. And I don't even care about Ichiro!

Settling a Bet: Golden Birthday

It was no joke. There is a such thing as a golden birthday, and not just some hippie make-up Saturn return mumbojumby.

A golden birthday is one in which the day's date coincides with the age of the person. For example, if a person's birthday is on May 15, their golden birthday occurs when they turn 15.


I had my golden birthday when I was 2. Someone we know is having his on the 31st. Never forget.

New!

Hot jokes for TGIF, yo!

While I Was Bloggin-By

I found this little storyboard that likes to call itself made up french words too. The fact that Dante is writing it scares me a little. He's dead!

Another thing worth mentioning:

I do feel much better (summertime coldwise) after a little coffee.

Tell you what though: There's nothing and I do mean nothing like the kind of fucked up dreams a fever can produce. That's right. I had a bonafide fever. 100 degrees friends. One might recall, that water boils friends at 212 degrees Fahrenheit which is ding ding ding: 100 degrees centigrade. So, if we were on the face of Mars where they calculate things in centigrade, I'd either be dead or evolved folks! Boiling brains! OK. I was just lying about that Mars thing. I guess, truthfully, everything hot is cold on Mars. That's pretty much all you need to remember.

Hello! It's not everday that you get homaged!

Yes! Salad and dog obsessions! But friends, Exiled's really getting to the meat of it friends, whether you can see it or not: THE COMEDY!

Quoth he:
These appear between various critiques, observations, insights, snark-isms, comedy, peculiar obsessions (salad), exciting media endeavors, and more.

Folks, Jas, I mean, Exiled taught me all the HTML I know! So blame him! Other notable learnings: how not to blow up when you turn on yer amp and stuff, stage diplomacy, and general good-naturedness.

What Is with the Summertime Cold?

Was it yelling in a smoky bar that did it, or the six consecutive days where I had no more than six hours of sleep? Was it that it was 90 degrees one day and 67 the next? Was it the swimming? The sunning? The cavorting that did it? Whatever it was, I take it back. Can I return to health now. Please?

In other news:

(Small garden update)
The tomato plant bloomed and the tomatoes ripened and I ate three of them yesterday. They are the size of marbles,but they aren't grape tomatoes. I love that plant. We bought of these worm wranglers at the farmer's market. They like, wrangle worms. The peppers are dead. There is no hope for them. The sunflower is showing no sign of cooperation, though it is taller than me now. The gladiolis blooms without holding back.

Also, the other night I stretched and looked up at the ceiling and saw the largest spider known to man. It was the size of a baby's paw!

What do you do? Do you kill spiders? Or, do you do that thing where you trap them in a cup and escort them out-of-doors? Would you ever suck them up in the vacuum cleaner? What if you were really afraid?

Why Don't You...

Get the debut issue of D

Do you have a boat?

I might like to be your friend.

Is Swimmer's Ear Putting a Damper on Your Summer?

New Catchphrase

Created this awesome new statement of observation last night at about midnight at the Burning Hearts Burlesque show my friend D dragged me to at this witchy-poo bar in Pioneer Square:

"I never wanted to know and now I do."

Funny thing about burlesque, or modern burlesque (you know, kinda tatooed and gothy, or Betty Page obsessed) is how incredibly unsexy it is. Also notable is how many of the ladies up on stage look horrified themselves. There's nothing dangerous about it and so it gets a little yawny. Yet, perhaps, naked girls just don't do it for me. Hark! I'm having a breakthrough!

That said, I did like the costumes and some of the acts were really creative and well thought out. My favorite was the hobo pinup (her pasties were patchwork!) dancing to "Busted" by Ray Charles--a big favorite song of mine. Another great act (done by the same gal) was an out and out Vegas showgirl thing, complete with sparkly blue headdress, done to some nasty little Tom Waits song. Just great. The two other A+ acts were both performed by a lady named Inga Ingenue (this link is safe for work, but I wouldn't go clickin' around on there. You just ne'er know.) She did kind of a mischevious girl scout thing and distributed cookies as well, and then returned in the second act as a drunk sailor who tipsied around to "Rum and Coca-Cola." She had the cutest little halter-top sailor bathing suit "on." See, I'm just in it for the costumes.

This Sunflower Is Refusing to Bloom

This Tomato Is Refusing to Grow

Really Important Lesson

Take your time. Can't stress this one enough. Can't live by it either.

Times Is Times

P surprised me with a ticket to a Sunday afternoon Mariners game. How could I not? I don't not love baseball, and if you ever get bored at a game there's always tons of other stuff to do like, take photographs of the beer guy, network, or watch TV. It was hot, like 90 degrees, which seemed much hotter here in the Puge, since the barometer is always hovering around cold here. Was it a good game? Yes, it was. At one point the bases were loaded by the Anaheim Angels and the Mariners changed their pitcher and well, three runs were earned. Pretty spectacular. Not to mention Ichiro. They might as well rename the team the Seattle Ichiros. But, what do I know?

Beer guy

Network

TV

Later it was time for some good old pho.

fixins

Pho is to Seattle as burritos are to San Francisco. It's like, if you can't figure out what to eat, you're going to eat pho. It's a tasty little dish that I can't seem to tire of, that is satisfying everytime and is priced to move. While I like to put the rooster sauce in the soup, Hamlice has decreed that the broth's flavor is much better retained if you fill the ramekin half rooster, half plum and dip your beef or chicken in that. But, who's to judge? (Um. You. You are to judge.)

Even later than that, H and I decided to see "The Aristocrats." I'll say it was good, but tiresome. The joke isn't altogether funny, per se, and became less and less funny each time

yawn

Paul Reiser or Whoopie Goldberg explained the joke, it's premise, it's machinations. The always subtly hilarious Sarah Silverman was again funny. Also great were Gilbert Godfried and Taylor Negron. Poop, incest, blood, urine--it's all there, for the whole family. Good for a Sunday evening, when that inescapable dread feeling usually pops up, predictably.

All of these activities complemented the other days: Saturday and Friday night. Friday night's activities were a departure. Met a fellow fabulous countryman and bowled a turkey, among other things, and took samplings from each family of liquor (to much sad regret Saturday morning). Saturday night featured a health reprise and a trip to Ballard (rhymes with Mallard) to see the ever-great Head of Femur, who have a really cool new record. They put on an excellent show, and the exclusively all-ages Paradox matched their carefulness by providing their own excellent sound. I was pretty dang excited since they played my very favorite songs, "Acme: The Summit of a Mountain," as well as "Finally, I've Made it Nowhere." Good job HoFs!

Having No Real Reference Point

I'm wondering: In the first few days after having a baby, do you just immediately start calling it by its given name, or do you just stick with the pronoun or "baby?" As in, Hey, you might want to let it air out before going in there. The baby was in there for nearly an hour!

I really need to know. I know some people like to let the kid choose their own name; they like, let the kid grow into it, shape it's own destiny.

Some of you like Canadian rock, like me,

so, you'll like these live tracks.

Everyone Loves a Mad Rush

...except for the person getting beaten by a lawn chair.

Blandine Alexander, 33, said one woman standing in front of her was so desperate to retain her place in line that she urinated on herself.

Ever Had Carpal Tunnel?

I think I have it. From blogging no doubt. No, not, blogging about No Doubt. Ha ha. You're funny.

Um, so now I have a keyboard tray and a dull aching pain in my wrist, elbow, and soul.

Have you ever had CT? What'd you do? Hypnotism? Electroshock therapy? Visualizations? WHAT?

Also, peep my dinner from last week. Why? Because:


Extended shouts out to Hamlice, the maker of all things edible.

Heels Are Overrated

That's all.

I Miss You Too

Hey John Kerry,

Just so you know, it's not like I mean to ignore you or anything like that, it's just that, I'm so busy these days that I hardly have any time to even write emails. I know that you have a lot more time on your hands than you thought you would now, but that's no excuse to email me every single thought you have. I mean, god knows, I wish you were busier. And not just because I feel guilty that I haven't kept in touch with you... it's been a rough six months for me, probably for both of us, and I guess... for just about everyone we know. I'm just having a hard time adjusting to my new reality. But everyday it gets no easier.

Anyway,

Talk to you soon. Take care of yourself. I hope to see you soon.

Love,
Gabi

This Just In--->New for August

Just started drinking my double-short Americanos through those tiny stirrer straws. More hot coffee... quicker to bloodstream.

Try it! You'll love it too!

Pretty

Perhaps This Has Happened To You

You live in a house, you grow up, you move really far away from that place. Later your parents decide to move into a smaller house, or a condo, or to Cape Coral, Florida. You support them because in truth it is the best thing for them to do. Be decisive! Make changes! It is all very positive.

Once that's all settled, there comes a realization that might shock, that all the precious things you've stored for free at your parents house... well, they'd like all that stuff to find new placement in your very adult, very non-junior high home. And so, the boxes of these things I for one, can neither bear to look at, nor bear to throw away are now in my living room midst.

And they came by UPS and now I'm trying to engratiate them (though that's the wrong word) into the mid-century by way of IKEA aesthetic that I've tried to effect for quite some time now. Three boxes of yearbooks, notebooks, literary journals, norton anthologies of poetry, endless notes about people, and one interesting find that I totally forgot about: a list of people in my high school who's last and first names begin with the same letter--my friend and I were convinced that there was a rule somewhere that if your initials were the same letter, you were certifiable. A lost cause. A total jackwipe. And let me tell you, the list proves it...

Opening the box I'm faced with this very important missive, written to me from K and I think we might have been in World Civilization II, 1994:

Update:
Joule never guess where my cousin works Fri & Sat nites! Pick a club, any club, in D.C., OK? It jest so happens that he is employed at the self-same place as W's brother?!?!?! What, I tell you, are the chances? (It's fate. I know these things) But WHAIT... there's more! ANd he can get two free guests in each night. So, joe wanna drop in some nite, casually stroll up to him and say, "What a COINCEDENCE! I never thought I'd see YOU of all people here" (That's my line). Anyways, I now have my plan to capture him.

And there's more, like this lovely poem penned by yours truly back in 1993:

Unity

the opening band tries
and fails to compenate for the awaited,
the crowd grows tired in anticipation
and finally...
the band steps on.
the opening note, a collage of chords and
syncopated beats
calls attention to everyone
--even those in the cheap seats--
the stadium shakes from pounding feet
dancing to the thunderous sounds
while bodies flail in sync to the beat.

I'm pretty sure I'd been to Lollapalooza that year for the first time. Careful readers will detect that that means I went more than once. Careful readers will also notice that I was so moved by the experience that I just had to write something down about it.

Notoriety and Dispatches from the Weekend

It is special being number three, and I owe it all to you.

I like seeing heavy metal in Shoreline, WA much more when there's a human connection, namely when my best friend's brother is in the band.

If you stick together and work hard, you can make it through IKEA with the secretariat-bitch you came to get, even though it's a zoo for humans.

This is a picture of a place that I now live near. It's also the site of a terrifically strange now-defunct television series that I never watched when it originally aired.

I Can Safely Say

that I have often wondered why.

Also, can you believe that some artist actually calls himself DJ Rap? How original.

And lastly (for the moment) where would you most likely find this combination of items: an old radio, a bag of flour, a heart-shaped box, and a stapler?



Is it A) the face of the moon; B) a kitchen; C) Inside the stomach of a tiger; or D) a yard sale?

Hot Trip Trivia

So.

Can you identify this building?



What about this one?

Can I Interest You in a Little Ruff?

I Didn't Know

Something about the war of the roses; earl grey; Mary, Queen of Scots. There is something out there for every someone.

Shout Outs to Nigiri

If you've made to the ripe old age of however old you are then, by all means try sushi if you haven't already. Yeah. Dknizzle. I'm talking to you.

50 billion people can't be wrong!

It's not dangerous!

Though I Had a Fantastic Time in Suburban D.C.

It's nice to be home.

Awww.

Even If...

You've never been to China, or you don't know the mind behind the blog, check out Exiled Midwesterner's account of his trip to China with his ladyfriend. It's a well written, well thought-out journal--I'm telling you what.