Who Pooted???

Its happened to all of us at some point.  Hell, most of us have even been the culprit.  What I am referring to of course is the classic tale of the “public pooter”.   I know, I know…..why write about something so disgusting, right?  Easy answer…..because its a simple fact of life:  People break wind in public places.   I can’t count the number of times that I’ve been stanked on by some drive-by Pepe Le Pew….it’s ridiculous and even more so disgusting.  So now that we all agree that its gross (we do agree, yes?) lets get a quick breakdown of where these stank ass delinquents strike…..here we go:

In the Elevator:  I especially hate it when I get in the elevator after the mystery pant shitter has already gotten off on his/her floor leaving me to take the blame for when the next person hops on.  Not cool.

On a plane:  There is no where to run from this one……snarf it up….turbulence is the least of your worries on this ride.

On Public transportation (usually the BART for those if us in Northern Cal):  People think that with the abundance of BART riders that they can dump in their drawers and no one will ever know…..and they were right.  Assholes.

In any line for any event:  Look, I know you hate waiting for stuff as much as  I do….but can you please not stink me out when all I want is some garlic fries and a beer to watch the ball game with?  Nice tapered jeans by the way….they really compliment that Budweiser T-shirt with the sleeves cut off.  Dick.

So yeah, I surely do not expect anyone to experience any personal growth or gain a sense of enlightenment from reading this particular blog…..but it sure made me feel better to get it out (no, that wasnt a fart joke. grow up.)

Getting There.

The Love of my life Cat had a sister, Carolyn…or Lyn as her friends and fam would call her.  I never knew her  although from what I’ve heard she was quite the amazing woman, daughter, sister, niece, cousin and friend.   I wish I would have known her…..from the way Cat speaks of her I feel like I missed out on someone that would have changed my life.  After reading her Myspace About Me comments I know that we would have been friends.  I dont know why I’m writing about this now….I guess its because it makes me realize how hard loss truly is.  I look at Cat and how she copes and sometimes it breaks my heart….its so hard to lose someone close.  I’ll spare anyone the drama of having to hear about my personal loss’ because this is not what this writing session is about.  It’s about remembering those that we’ve lost and appreciating those that we chose to surround ourselves with in this life.  As an adult, I’ve never been much of a cry baby….but after reading a brief blog of Cat’s about Lyn I can’t help but have tears in my eyes.  Its crazy that someone can just suddenly not be here….its like a giant hole where they once were.  I look at my life and I realize that while its not perfect, its wonderful.   I live my life by two rules that I refuse to give on.  Never be afraid to show someone that you love them and when life gets tough remember all the good times……they just might be enough to carry you through the rough ones.

Good Vibrations

I’ve always been a fan of music.  Guns and Roses, Elton John, Prince….the list goes on and on.   When I was a kid growing up on a farm in Oklahoma I shoveled a lot of horse shit, fed a lot pigs and raked seemingly endless piles of leaves and dirt…and its amazing how many songs a guy can listen to doing that kind of stuff.  Of course, being from a small country town the music of choice was country or some sort of honkey tonk.  Now I’m not opposed to country music, its just not my cup of tea.  The classics are always welcome….Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson and the like…but overall I just wasn’t feeling it.  It was time to broaden my horizons if you will.  Like anything new, sometimes it takes a bit of trying different things to find a nice medium.  I was so used to country music (that all my step dad would let us listen to) that I rebelled…..dove head first into the hard stuff….Tool, Metallica, Black Sabbath.  What a joy puberty was.   But as time passed the more I listened.  I’m not saying that all of the tunes that I rocked out to were the best, i’m just saying that if you dig it then why not.  I mean, who didn’t like “Funky Cole Medina”?  Okay, maybe that was stretch but ya get the point.  Music is timeless, good or bad.  These days I’ve mellowed a bit… The Temper Trap, Kings of Leon, The Silversum Pickups, Alicia Keys and a multitude of others but the fact remains….music entertains, inspires, motivates and sometimes it brings us together.  The songs I love and enjoy are the soundtrack to my life….and what a kick ass soundtrack it is.

Welcome to the Jungle.

Berkeley, CA: May 2011.

The main squeeze and I check out the Telegraph scene….and it did not disappoint.

Today a man asked me if I’d seen his apple…..which apparently he had “misplaced”.  I then went on to a thrift store that sold various articles that shouldn’t be sold as second hand (they actually had an entire chest full of  used panties….3 for $5…what a deal, right?!?!?)  Another young man wanted me to buy his record that was self produced.  Maybe he thought he was still in his studio since his pants were down around his thighs and his stank ass drawers were hangin out.  And all those beautiful homemade tattoos…..mom must be proud.  I then visited a smoke shop that was full of upstanding citizens….why, is that a bong in the shape of an eagle fighting a snake?  ”It’s a serpent” the 40 year old behind the counter that probably still lives with his mother tells me.   On that note, I stroll on down to the used book store on the corner.  Upon entering I find such literary classics as ” The Idiots Guide to Child Birth” (should they be having children?) and “Birds of Wine Country” (yeah…I go to Napa to watch the birds….riiiiiight).   I tell the man (or overly hairy woman with the Edward James Almos complexion) Thanks and then I’m off to the parking garage to get the hell outta Dodge.  Along the way I see a group of teenagers that look like they haven’t bathed in a week.  One has a skateboard with “F**k You” written on it, another knuckle deep in his left nostril digging for what appears to be gold.  The leaders of tomorrow.  Something tells me that we’re fucked.

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