My friend (who else but…) just told me about Chatroulette. I did a search for it and found out this is old news. Dystopia. So I logged on and two minutes turned into ten as I was finishing my response paper to Double Indemnity.
Here is what I encountered.
Wait for it…
No doubt she was Russian
It has been awhile since I’ve posted on this little platform.
Life is grand.
My Valentines Day started at 3 p.m. and consisted of staring at the wall while an obscure Temptations LP played on the turntable.
I started going to yoga again.
What have I been thinking about for the past two months? More of the same.
When is the next time I’ll have the time to post something again? Who knows.
I watched the game at Lunasa with a bunch of Irish… What a sad and disgusting outcome.
Mildly entertaining. Mildly.
So… I went to a party last night. A killer party.
Condolences to John Doe’s family.
I also got tickets to Metallica at MSG.
I’m also going to watch Roma defeat Inter.
Police say guilt was written all over their faces.Police received a call Friday night that two men with hooded sweatshirts and painted faces had tried to break into a man’s home in Carroll, Iowa.
When police stopped a vehicle matching the caller’s description blocks away, they were stunned by the men’s disguises.
There were no ski masks or stockings pulled over their heads; instead, Matthew Allan McNelly, 23, and Joey Lee Miller, 20, streaked their faces with permanent black marker.
Yeah, maybe they could have spent another couple minutes on their disguise. It must have been the meth… Via CNN.
Three men died during the Detroit Marathon on Sunday. What were they running from? It should also be noted they were running a half marathon.
Meanwhile in Los Angeles, this guy was already dead.
Okay. A word of advice. If you buy a Kryptonite lock please register the key. Why you ask? Because they will replace it!
I went to a Pat Benatar concert and lost my keys. What did I learn from my bungle besides the above mentioned piece of advice? Love is a battlefield.
I didn’t register my key.
The next question is how to open a Kryptonite lock. I can’t do this because I have a chain lock. Word to the mother.
Until I find a blowtorch looks like I’ll be riding the subway. Ugh…
Happy birthday to the ground
I spent the past 3 minutes of my life watching a bag of corn kernels getting zapped by radioactive waves. It was hot in the microwave but chilly in my kitchen because the window fan was turn on high. For the first time in my life I watched a bag of popcorn fulfill its purpose. Paul Newman may be dead but he was a sexy bastard when it came to branding and marketing.
A piece of entertaining news… A friend of mine told me a story. Her friend was devastated because she recently broke up with Billy Corgan of Zwan. After scanning her iTunes Library Corgan asked her why she didn’t have any Smashing Pumpkins (his other band) songs. She said that she only had tracks in her library that she liked. He wasn’t appeased by the answer and went to his deck of tarot cards for guidance. Apparently the power of the painted cards light a path only Billy Corgan can see.
Do you mustard of mayo on your sandwich Billy Corgan? “The Queen of Cups and The Fool contradict each other with their arguments for a spicy as opposed to whole-grain mustard. I’m confused. Wait, clarity!!! The Magician says mayo.”
Also, he believes that people store emotions in their liver. People will never be as great as Billy Corgan because they store too much emotion in their liver. This girl wasn’t letting go and the Two Cups of the Watchtower said it was time to go…
Today in Spanish class we translated a song, “Quizas, Quizas, Quizas.” It’s a damn sexy song. When I hear it, I imagine a crowded dance floor with anonymous hips moving to the rhythm of the song. The scene isn’t happening in Spain… Maybe an island… Or Miami. It’s definitely happening outdoors on a patio.
Rio Bravo.
Yesterday I went to see Buster Balloon at the Half Gallery. The display was mildly entertaining from the perspective of a 23-year-old but wildly fascinating to the three year old in a stroller next to me.
Among the creations was a miniature Elvis, ice-cream cone, water faucet, gorilla, and a monkey smoking a cigarette (my favorite). Now I know why Jeff Koons proclaimed Buster, “The top balloon twister in the world.”
Yeah, Jeff Koons would say that wouldn’t he.
James Frey, half-author and a third of the partnership that comprises the gallery, was moping around outside.
Prior to attending the little exhibition, I was reading on the steps at Houston and Forsyth Street. A couple sat next to me and to the best of my knowledge they were speaking in Dutch.
Sometimes I would peek up from my book to watch them smoke cigarettes, laugh, and embrace each other. It appeared that nothing could corrupt their moment of bliss.
Peace never lasts.
I noticed a black Lincoln Navigator (with ‘for sale’ signs) slowly stalking down the street like it was hunting for meat. It came to a halt in front of the couple and the tinted windows rolled down to revel three degenerates.
A middle aged man with a thick beard, sitting in the back seat, began to accost the girl.
Hey, baby. Spread your legs a little more.
The girl looked confused.
Yeah, open them up a little more.
She squeezed her legs together out of fear. The face of her boyfriend was filled with hate.
You better be careful. Something might sneak up that skirt. Something big.
The pervert started to cackle and the car sped off.
I was tempted to say something comforting or crack a joke but I just sat there and wondered what they were saying in Dutch.
They seemed to take it lightly because a few minutes later they were back in their own world.
