Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Worst Haircut Ever pt. 2

I'm not so upset now about the fat girl shouting at me yesterday while I was getting my hair cut. It was still rude and unprofessional but not something to get too worked up about. Still, it was the worst haircut ever. It doesn't look very good either. I don't blame Katelyn though. How can you be expected to do good work when someone's shouting at you about spitting in people's food?

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Worst Haircut Ever

Today I had the worst haircut experience ever. Maybe the title is a misnomer, it remains to be seen whether it is the worst looking haircuts ever. I'm tyring to be more positive about things but this was just too much.

The story actually begins last night while eating dinner in a restaurant. The family behind us had a baby who continuously screamed like she was having nails pounded into her skull. The parents completely ignored it. They ignored it, that is until the mother took the kid outside (twice) at which time the older kid would scream equally loud that she wanted to go outside like her mom and sister. These little bastards screamed and shrieked for 40 minutes. The couple next to us got up and left glaring at the family with the kids. Why we sat through it I have no idea but we did.

Back to the haircut. After the shampoo I sat in the chair and started with the cut. 2 minutes in, this other stylist sat down in the chair adjacent to mine. She was really fat and sat slouched to one side of the chair with the fat folding over the arm of the chair. She had just ordered Chinese and found out shortly before someone else ordered from the same place. She started in about whether they'd send 2 delivery drivers or not and if they would get pissed if they had to do so. "I ordered mine after so and so's, I hope they don't get pissed and spit in my food. They do that you know. My sister worked an Mc Donalds and would do that all the time. We went to Friendy's and there was a couple complaining about something to the waitress. I saw the look on her face and she was definitely going to spit in their food." BLAH BLAH BLAH! On and on.

She was so loud when she stressed a certain word for emphasis I would actually cringe a little bit. This went on the entire time I was getting my hair cut. I'm sitting there thinking I was going to snap and just walk out. I should've asked her to shut up but it was one of those things where you think at any moment she would stop and I wouldn't have to. It wouldn't have been rude if I had but I just felt weird about the whole thing so I just sat there and stewed. I kept thinking if I said something it would make things weird and would mess things up even more.

What a drag, oh well. I'll let her know next time I go in. My stylist, not the fat ass. If this haircut is bad I'm really going to be pissed. Again, oh well. I guess I'd have more of a leg to stand on about this looking good issue if I'd made more progress on the self improvement. Notice the lack of updates on fitness etc.

Anyway, I just had to vent, so there it is.

Saturday, June 23, 2007

1-2 we hope that you choke

this is ¡HEY! . . . . .¡HEY! is non-fiction. If it seems real to you then go to bed.

swimming under a boat.

I see the boat and feel it's hull. The hull below the water floats and makes the boat float. The boat we don't see does the heavy lifting, the lifting of the boat. The whole boat, not just the boat you'll see on say, television, or in the water. If you see a boat on a trailer on the highway look at the bottom. The work end.

Jump in the water what do you see? Cold dull mirrors swim away from me. There's nothing to fear. Nothing at all. Swim beneath the boat and all the sounds drift away.

"Make it available", I said. "Don't grit your teeth at me", they then say with fear. 1-2 we hope that you choke. I hope they do choke. They say,"I won't hesitate." I say,"For me smile, for me love?" "Don't grit your teeth at me." "They're my teeth. They make me smile." Those people lie and take money and give no help. Capital is all they see. I'll smile and grit my teeth. My teeth, they make me smile.

Relax now touch the water, let the water touch your skin. They and their fear and anger stay on land and don't reach you now. Now swim or just float. Just float now or just swim and let the water touch you swim. We let go our animosity for those bastards we wished harm. They wished us harm we drift on driftwood. We drift on old doors. We drift on park benches.

So fingertip to fingertip you roll your hands and fingers. My fingers do the same. You jump in the river, I jump in the sea. Cold dull mirrors swim with me, reflecting sun back to sun. Fingernails touch, they drag across sand. Scraping lines in sand they reach more sand. Roomfulls of sand they fill the parking lots then melt in the sea. The ocean melt sand into sea.

We all live content, I hope. I hope we all live happy. Know your scars and how you got them. Know your lessons, know how you learned them.

Still I swim from dock. If I swim on there'll never be hills. There'll never be grass, or bees or blacktop or tar laden parking lots. Swim near boat or under? I can't hear you, but I know the words you say. I can't see you, but I see what's in my way.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Couldn't make this up

There's this pathetic soul who comes into the kick I work at and drinks himself into a stupid stupor every night I'm there. This fool asks me to give him a ride to a nudie bar on Sat. I oblige him and on his request (and my curiosity to see a little such and such) I check the place out for a minute. What a dump. The next day he thanks me and asks if I want to join the place as a "member". "Member" what I say. "Member", he says, "so you can get in for real, the girls get naked and you can bring your own beer. It's $35 for the year and $21 a night."

I don't like this man. I think he's a creep. Now he's trying to convince me to dive into some kind of pyramid scheme nudie bar. I mess with people as it is, after this shit my "job" is about to get a whole lot more interesting. Unless of course I start to take my Jedi training seriously, like I should. If not I'll be lucky to get out of this thing without getting fired. My fellow employees, who all have cordless personalities, already comment on the shit I get away with.

To the point . . . "The owners are cool" he says as a selling point. "I know you love football" I couldn't give a good god damn about football you duck head, I think. "The owner's license plate is "VICK", he says, "He's a huge fan of the Falcons QB Michael Vick." I couldn't make this up. "Sick, die slow in it's belly." I said. If I met the owner of this sleeze factory I'd probably puke. I miss the Guns-n-Roses fan who used to come in and buy the huge bottle of Jim Beam every Sun. I could at least talk to him.

By the way, listen to Rocket Queen by G-n-R. Trust me, with any luck it'll make you forget all about Michael Vick.

Monday, June 18, 2007

Wouldn't It be Nice?

What if when Queen Elizabeth died Prince Charles abdicated the throne to Prince. (by "Prince I mean "Purple Rain" Prince), making him a King-if only for a moment? Whomever the hell is in charge of that mucking bull would pull the plug and yank the throne from under him and give it to the oldest of Princess Di's kids (his majesty would have to take of the crown, put on a raspberry beret and roll with the injustice of it all.). Lady Di's boys ARE dashing though, aren't they? Well once that happened, what if the younger was consumed with jealousy? So much so that he hatched a devious plan. ("you know it seems the more we talk about it, it only makes it worse to live without it." b. wilson of the beach boys) What if overcast days never turned him on but something about the clouds and him mixed, so he enacted his plan, knocked off his brother and became King. Pardoning himself, His newly crowned Majesty would proceed without guilt and with the public behind him hijack the government of the U.K. and make it a monarchy once again.

King ( ) 's first act would be to invade France. The French, of course, would welcome him with open arms. With His Purple Majesty playing 21 gigs in London in 21 days the French would be dying for a show by the Prince from Minneapolis. They've all been screaming "Let's Go Crazy!" since the 80's haven't they?

Don't worry about the international implications of an outright monarchy ruling such a major country. With an ever eroding judicial oversite of our executive branch, we're 9/10's of the way there ourselves.

"You know it's going to make it that much better, when we could say goodnight and stay together." b. wilson
Seeing as how we seem to have this never ending fixation with royalty Wouldn't It Be Nice if we just signed on with the crown and followed through with something for once? Wouldn't It Be Nice to just drop all the pretenses and have fun with it?

I won't even tell you who I think would make the best Queen. I wouldn't mind hearing your suggestions though. As it is . . . .

. . . . "I . . . . I love the colorful clothes she wears and the way the sunlight plays upon her hair." b. wilson

Man, it's going to be great! It's going to be FAB! Fab, with a great big fabulous FAB! It's going to be "FUN! FUN! FUN! till her daddy takes the T-Bird away!" b. wilson

Friday, June 8, 2007

Michael Vick do you hear that sound? . . .

. . . it's getting closer.

"During an April 25 drug raid on the home Vick owns in the county, authorities seized 66 dogs, including 55 pit bulls, and equipment that suggested someone at the property was involved in a dogfighting operation.

A search warrant affidavit said some of the dogs were in individual kennels and about 30 were tethered with "heavy logging-type chains" buried in the ground. The chains allowed the dogs to get close to each other, but not to have contact, one of myriad findings on the property that suggested a dogfighting operation.

Others included a rape stand, used to hold non-receptive dogs in place for mating; an electric treadmill modified to be used by dogs; a "pry bar" used to open the clamped-down mouths of dogs; and a bloodied piece of carpeting the authorities believe was used in dog fights. Carpeting gives dogs traction in a plywood fighting pit."

I've done research on this animal abuse. The "logging chains" , which can weigh over 40 lbs, are used to strengthen the dog's neck and shoulders. The chain is locked around the dogs neck and they are fed from above so they are forced to lift the chain in order to reach the food. Using the Pavlovian technique a whistle is blown during feeding. Once conditioned to reach up at the sound of the whistle the dogs are placed on a "workout schedule" with a whistle being blown at regular intervals so the dogs "exercise" and strengthen their necks in preparation for fighting.

The chains are at a length that allows closeness but not contact to develop unnatural aggression towards each other. Not only are the dogs forced to lift heavy chains to reach food but they are also given the perception that they must compete with another dog for food in an all or nothing battle. Dogs are pack animals, they integrate so well with us because we have a strong family structure. Wild dogs establish a pecking order which determines who eats first. They cooperate during the hunt and share the food so they all can eat. They live as a team, a family. These dogs crave physical contact. They sleep next to and often on top of one and other. Forcing them to compete for food in such a way, then lay near, but too far away to touch the other dogs is nothing less than psychological torture. It is the complete opposite of the dogs instinct.

Dogs are among the toughest animals on the planet. Bulldogs fought bulls (also barbaric and thankfully no longer done). Foxes have been known to chew their own leg off to escape a claw trap. They are wired to be able to tolerate great physical pain. This trait is exploited by sick bastards like Vick. In great contrast to this ability to resist pain, dogs feel an incredible need for contact, inclusion, family and at the risk of anthropomorphizing, love. To deprive them of this is the ultimate pain that can be afflicted.

I thought the vicious, bloody pain I saw in the dog fighting video was the worst thing that can happen to these animals. I had no idea how wrong I was. The slow monstrous daily ordeal these sadistic perverts subject these dogs to is exponentially worse. They live chained too far to touch other dogs they wish to socialize with, even though they compete unnaturally for food. They lie alone in the dark and listen to the the cries of other dogs they'll never touch. Unable to lick the other's wounds, their wounds hurt all the worse.

The real pain is the life these dogs live. Their death is the release. Their sad, wicked, horrific, bloody release.

TB and fire trucks

Ever heard "Rumble" by Link Ray and his Raymen?

I have asthma and occaisonally have coughing fits. I thought it was bad before but now everyone looks at me like I'm the "international Typhoid Mary, drug resistant tuberculousis guy". I can't wait until I fly to San Diego later this month.

Some of the nicest girls you're going to meet work at the Planned Parenthood. I had a catering delivery there today, so I know this from personal experience. Poor girls have to work behind 2 locked "buzz you in" doors and have 4 cameras pointed around the building.

I don't know about you, but when I feel lonely I listen to Liz Phair. I know she was a riot grrrl but I think that's just because she was lonely and fragile. I know this because I was a riot boy, but once I really listened the noise just went away.

A man gave me a "Mega-Millions" ticket today as a tip. I said,"Know what I'll do with the money after I take care of my family, friends and charities?" "What?" he said. "I'll buying a fire engine." I'll go to the mall just for kicks and park next to one of those guys driving a Hummer and say,"Hey, fire engine." Maybe those "MySpace girls" are on to something. Maybe I do harbor feelings of inadequacy. Or maybe I've just fallen off of the "sarcasm wagon". Either way, Angus would look cool riding shotgun in a fire engine. "Hey! Whare's tha dollmation?" "Ahem, bulldog. Get it?"

Wednesday, June 6, 2007


What?!? So you're saying that your philosophy of child rearing is that all children are like nails that need to be pounded flat. If they pop out they are to be driven back down again even harder. If they get rusty they should be pulled out and tossed aside before they give somebody tetanus or something. Sounds good to me.

The new idea in immigration is that we do away with family members receiving consideration. Now the focus would be placed on employment skills so they can add more to the economy. This comes from the right wing family values crowd who opposes gay marriage claiming it's a threat to the American family. Right then.

Know why I love MySpace? You would not BELIEVE the number of hot girls who want to be my friend. I never make them friends though because they all seem to think I have erectile dysfunction and/or "size deficiencie's". I appreciate the interest anyway you crazy girls.

Friday, June 1, 2007

Especially if you ask.

Nobody told me there'd be days like these.

I can't get my mind off of Michael Vick. Today I heard the DA say he has enough evidence to try him. Die sick, slow in it's belly.

Ever act stupid in order to feel smart? It's a clever way of lowering expectations for yourself. Eventually it catches up, like someone who changes his clock to feign more sleep. "It's better to burn out than it is to rust." (neil young) Clever is about as dumb as you can get.

Ruby red cherry hard rock candy. Flavor no not cherry, watermelon. These are the dreams we had. That girl who's lap I laid my head in and fell asleep while driving back from Dorney Park when I was 10. We said we'd stay in touch, but we didn't know our own phone numbers. We took turns in each other's laps. Funny thing that. Thinking back it seems like a 12 hour car ride. At the time it seemed like only 12 days. My best friend's (at the time) father's girlfriend's stepdaughter. I couldn't find her if I tried. I woke up at my friend's house around 5am with HBO playing the movie "The Looker". I was on the floor, she was on the couch. I could've kissed her but I didn't. I walked home 6 miles and slept the rest of the day.

Funny thing that. I don't think I've thought about all that since. I've no idea why I thought of it now.

Nobody told me there'd be days like these.

not so non sequitor: The rat has many theories. The dog has many answers but will rarely tell. Especially if you ask.