Thursday, June 14, 2007

Eat Low on the Food Chain

Of course the one night this week I leave work at 6 and go to a baseball game I pull out my blinking blackberry to read four testy emails from work, an email from Mrs. Octopus telling me we owe property tax late penalties, and the Mets lose 9 to 1. WTF? It's always like that.

Angelina Jolie is on "The Daily Show". I think she's a video game. She looks like a video game. She says "yeah" like she's from Jersey or Torrance or something. Jon Stewart just asked her if a burka can contain her hotness. x
This is the apotheosis of the internet age: liveblogging "The Daily Show".

Someday this will be very funny. Don't mock us, future aliens with light-speed drive. We were just trying to get by, pay the rent, have some laughs, and not have heart attacks too soon. I should floss tonight.

Tuesday, June 12, 2007


My alter ego is still guest-blogging here for a limited time.

I feel like I need to sleep for a good week or so.

I feel like I pull the garbage out to the street every day. Apparently, time does go by faster as you get older, and the time between pulling the garbage out the street does in fact begin to shrink.

I had a long dream last night that tired me out. I was walking around some city I'd never been to with a friend of mine from college who died when she was 27, nearly six years ago. She seemed happy in the dream. At some point, she whispered something in my ear, but now I can't remember what she said. At another point, we were riding a motorcycle together.

Sunday, June 10, 2007

A Continued Freefall through Time

Another weekend, lost for all time. At least I finished the book I've been reading for a while: Then We Came to the End. It was pretty funny, and endlessly fascinating to me because it was about the everyday, mundane idiocies of work, useless meetings at work, ways to waste time at work, free bagel days at work, stupid and insane co-workers, etc.

I've been trying to read, at the same time, Cadillac Desert, which I've started before, but got mired somewhere in the historical section in the first quarter of the book or so.

My Sunday soccer league team won its game this afternoon. We played against a team apparently named after a Mexican beer. They were pretty good. Their goalkeeper was fat and squat and wore a Warren Moon jersey. At some point, I screamed "Fuck off!" at one of my teammates and gave him the finger. He had been giving me a hard time about some play that I had created by stealing the ball in our half, running it up past midfield, and then passing to a forward, but just a bit too far in front of the forward. I was playing pretty hard today, and I think I sort of morphed into a huge dickhead, as I can from time to time when playing sports. Anyway, I gave the teammate one of those fist pounds and some kind words after the game and it was all good. I came home and took a long nap.

Thursday, June 07, 2007

Ways to Go Gray

Time to go to sleep again. I never want to go to sleep, but then I never want to wake up. I took a forty-minute nap last night from 10:40 to 11:20 and then woke up and worked until 3:40 in the morning. That was not healthy. Now I am resisting going to bed, even though I've felt slightly less than human all day.

Should I shave tomorrow?

Such profound questions I face every day.

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile

I was looking for video of Lew Zealand, but I couldn't find any on YouTube or Google Video. WTF?

Sometimes, this is exactly how I feel:

This song is much scarier to me now than it was when I was nine.

Friday, June 01, 2007

Homeward Bound

I'm on a propeller plane inside a cloud. I think we're somewhere above California, but I can't see anything beyond white mist.

Ahh, there we go: there's the sun, sitting low at 6:40 p.m. Pacific Coast time, and there are the acres of segmented rectangular fields, the circles in squares, green, brown, and tan.

The plane is aimed downward now. We should beat the sun to the ground and arrive in about 20 minutes.

Now the landscape is a mess of dwellings and storage structures, with thick arteries running at angles through the clusters of development. There's the ellipse of a football field and track.

And now we're back to the squares, rectangles, and circles.

One feels especially ineloquent when trying to speak through one's thumbs, punching away at tiny plastic buttons. It's like playing the piano with your feet.

Mountains. Interestingly, as the dry land rises in the folds of the mountains, the number of trees begins to grow from a smattering to a thick blanket.

Dry streams. Irrigation canals. No houses or structures. Nothing but planet for as far as I can see now, just ten minutes out of LAX.

Turbulence. More mountains.


We flew right over Dodger Stadium (a crowd was beginning to form in the expensive seats), past downtown, over the endless warehouses, the thousands of trailer trucks sout of downtown.

I saw a kid drive to the hole on teeming basketball courts in south L.A.

On the ground now, waiting on the tarmac for my bags. Smiling Eskimos on all the Alaska Airlines planes all around me.
Sent from my BlackBerry Wireless Handheld (after landing)