Friday, May 23, 2008

Lickable: definition

Yogurt. They’re all good. It's just a fact. Any PLAIN yogurt you can buy in a reputable market is good. The question then becomes which one has the most lickable top. Meaning safe to lick. Safe for the tongue. Not just the center, but the edges, where those extra bits will always be waiting, for you. Lickable.

Thursday, April 24, 2008

there was this guy

He used to go around saying all these little aphorisms, which sounded ok, but on second, and sometimes even first thoughts, didn't quite make much sense. “Better safe than alive.” “There’s chicken in numbers.” Actually, come to think of it, maybe they made too much sense.

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Saturday, October 13, 2007

gypsy woman told my mother

I just had Cookie Crisps. First time. Not exactly a cereal I tend to buy. The time when I would have bought this cereal just happened to be the same one where I was making about two dollars a week. Actually, I wasn’t so much making it, as I was just getting it. From my parents. It was never clearly explained to me what exactly I was supposed to do, but I knew a good thing. So I just kept my mouth shut and went along with it. Maybe some sort of deal for not burning down the house or something. I don’t know. But I know I didn’t spend it on cereal. I had more important things to spend it on. Like cap guns. Cap guns were awesome. Probably still are. But I can’t be buying guns anymore. Because now I have more important things to be buying. Beer, for example, is a big one. But there are others.

Oh yeah, so the weirdest thing happened to me. You might be thinking it was at the usual spot where the weird things happen to me, at the giant supermarket in the giant strip center. Well, yes, and no. This time I was in a different part of the strip center. You see, it all began when I decided I would first go to the Radio Shack to get an electronic. Then after I’d got my electronic, I was walking the long stretch from the Radio Shack to the supermarket—hey, I’m not one of those people who drives across the parking lot from one store to another (even though it really is a huge parking lot and who could really object that much if I did? Like next time.) Anyway, so I’ve made it about half-way there when suddenly a woman’s voice calls out to me. I turn around and there is parked in front of me a rather fancy looking black SUV. I approach cautiously, as I sometimes do when called out to in giant parking lots after dark.

To my surprise it’s this perfectly nice looking woman with some kind of former Eastern bloc accent and five cute little girls in the car with her. My initial fear has now turned to a certain amount of enthusiasm because surely she is about to tell me some extraordinary but quite plausible situation. Like she’s just run away from her abusive husband, who also happens to be a vampire. Or she just discovered a car full of little girls and needs urgent parenting advice. Something. But then she starts into this story about not being paid until tomorrow and could I just lend her some. “I could write you an IOU. I just need help so the girls can have something to eat tonight.” Wait a minute. What? Are you for real? What century are we in? This is like a bad movie. I didn’t actually say all that. What I said was I didn’t have any cash on me, which was almost true, but if they really wanted something to eat I could use my parent’s credit card to get them something delicious.

“Cookie Crisps! They like Cookie Crisps,” she said turning toward the smaller girls in the back seat who nodded eagerly in approval. Anyway you see where this story is going. Came out. Car full of girls gone. And me writing a blog about Cookie Crisps at 2 am. Of course, not being stingy with my parent’s money, I also have some other stuff I don’t normally buy, but we’ll save it for another review. Oh, yeah. The crisps. They’re ok. But they aren’t kidding when they say crisps. They stay hard incredibly long after you put the milk on. When I say incredibly I mean, essentially, forever. Which probably means they’re not safe. But again, whatever. Anyhow, I think the second batch is probably softening by now. So I gotta go.

Monday, September 24, 2007

the first time i had sex with someone from the internet

was in 1989. i was sixteen years old, and it was probably within a few days of getting my driver's license. that's how it works, when you're a boy. it was with this country girl i had been exchanging little messages with on my Apple IIE and dialup modem. she was using her dad's computer while he was at work. there was never any mention about a mother. it was the summer and she would be at home alone during the day. the idea of internet safety had not yet been invented because there was no internet to be safe about. safety was for shop class and swimming pools, not love. and get this. i hadn't even seen a picture, because there was no way to send pictures in those days. ok that's not true. you could mail pictures in the mail i guess. but whatever. i didn't have time for that. anyway she had measurements and that was enough in those days. so i drove about an hour to where she was supposed to live, which was literally out on some farm in the country. and by god she actually didn't look that bad. i remember she had short brown hair, turned out to be heavily bisexual, and listened to madonna. we rolled around on her carpet listening to "justify my love" and looked at pictures of her friends photo albums, of which she had several. ok so we didn't actually have sex. i admit. i think it was my idea not to. if so, that was stupid. she drove an old black studabaker, which is awesome. i don't remember her name.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

i went to the post office

i was alone when i went. i was alone when i came back home. but it's what happened in between that i will never forget.

Friday, September 21, 2007

today it rained on my box. tomorrow a fireball will kill me.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

well are they?

We need to be able to IM directly from our heads. I’m really tired of having to endure thoughts about people which they cannot hear and which I might even forget before telling them. The other night I was lying in bed half-asleep and alone. “Wasn’t it you who said a while ago that you’re breasts were really engorged and huge?” I thought. “Well I was just wondering if they still were.” But you did not hear me.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

you didn't have anything like this happen to you today

Wow, what a time. So I get to the hair salon. Get this. It’s the wrong day. I was supposed to go tomorrow! It's true. It's written right there on my fridge. It says "Wednesday 11 am hair". Alright but I was such a tremendous idiot it was great. I walk in. Casually walk past the girl at the desk. Nope, I got this one. I pop up the stairs and there is Stephen snipping away on some woman. "You ready?" He just stands there and looks up at me like I’ve just hatched an alien baby. "You have an appointment for Wedesnday." "Yeah I know. Wait, what day is it today?" “Tuesday.” “Yes.” [brief pause...light bulb.] “Oh my god.” [laughter...alien baby scurries across floor and hides behind fake plant] My first feeling is irritation (with myself) over the fact that I would have to drive all that way at the same time tomorrow. (I need this haircut.) My next thought is that I’ve just used up my one outfit. What the hell am I going to wear when I come back tomorrow? (Maybe they won’t notice?) Fuck. So then on the way out I stop to chat up a friend/hair dresser. (He’s having a baby.) "You're having a baby. I heard." We talk a few minutes and then it occurs to me, “Wait, what are you doing right now? Do you have any time? I mean the baby isn't due until January, right?” “Sure, why don’t you get shampooed?” he said with a smile. It was like a miracle. Almost. A nearicle! Those words I can still hear in my head as if it were just today. Why don’t I get shampooed. Yeah, why don’t I? [that lightbulb didn't take half as long as the other one] And so I did. And this is great because now I don't have to go anywhere tomorrow (unless I want to).

Sunday, September 16, 2007

supermarket revisited

So yes, I went back to the same large supermarket as before and it was late so of course I had to use that stupid self-checkout computer (which by the way is the first sign of the apocalypse) when I made a horrible mistake. After I’d filled a couple of plastic bags worth of grocery items, I lifted them from the countertop into my shopping cart. I did this to make space. But the computer was none to pleased. I know now when it senses less weight on the countertop it thinks you must be finished. It wants you to pay. It doesn't want you to then start scanning more items. In fact, it gets very angry, when I did this. “You can do that all day and it won’t scan,” said the portly white guy as I stood there talking on my cell phone and swiping a tiny strawberry yogurt. And he was right. I guess about twenty swipes was his threshold for coming over there. Something else I've learned. Anyway, so I hoisted my bags back onto the countertop and commenced to scanning. The computer was happy. The apocalypse may now continue.

Thursday, August 30, 2007

it happened one night

so i have just returned from a wonderful late night grocery fillup. i cannot tell you the name of the store because of what i am about to tell you. we'll just say that store X is large, ugly and now open all night. what happened which was great was when i told the young check-out guy i didn't have one of those little discount cards, he was like, eh, and typed in a special code so i could have the discount anyway. awesome. i would like to know if it gets any better than that?