Wednesday, July 29, 2009

My Chair & Me

Today at work I noticed the left arm of my chair was loose. The maintenance guy came over to adjust it. I watched him work on it for a moment or two and then decided I might as well just go on my break.

When I came back from my break my chair was nowhere to be found. Turns out the maintenance guy had decided it was beyond repair and had taken it away.

I went into an empty office and perused the chairs no one was using, and took one back to my desk, hopefully temporarily. It does not make me feel like Captain Kirk when I sit in it, and that is my first criteria for a chair.

As I sat in the temporary chair, I felt empty. I didn't even get to say goodbye to my old chair. It was as if I had taken a beloved pet to the vet for a minor illness only to find out later that the vet had decided to put my pet down without asking me first.

So, if your chair has a minor problem, don't ask anyone to fix it. If you do, make sure you monitor them the whole time.

Otherwise they might kill your pet.

Monday, July 27, 2009

The Cesar Chavez Aisle

I was at the self checkout at QFC the other day when I overheard a customer loudly and heatedly dealing with one of the kids who works there. The first thing that caught my attention:

"I want to see a sign up there that reads, 'Cesar Chavez Aisle'," the customer said.

I looked over to see what was going on. The customer, a wirey, bald middle-aged man who looked like he spent all his time relaxing in the sun, was pointing at the aisle containing "ethnic foods." The poor kid who worked there looked like he was out of his element.

"I mean this is inexcusable," the customer went on. "How can you not have black beans? You HAVE to have black beans. It's a disgrace."

"Yes sir, I'll put in a suggestion with my manager," the employee said, calmly.

I tried to comprehend what was happening. The customer hadn't been able to find black beans in the ethnic food aisle, so now he wanted to rename the aisle the "Cesar Chavez Aisle?" I guess he was viewing this as some kind of social injustice? Like it was a political statement that QFC wasn't carrying black beans? Meanwhile I'm pretty sure I've bought black beans at QFC before, so if they weren't there it was either because they just didn't happen to be in stock that day or the guy didn't look carefully enough.

"You know they're gonna rename Broadway Cesar Chavez Boulevard, don't you?" the customer continued.

"I hadn't heard that," the employee said.

"Yeah, as soon as they can get together the $175,000 it takes to rename the street," the customer said.

The employee wasn't sure what to say to that.

"Remember when they changed all the school signs?" the customer asked.

"No," the employee said, poor kid.

"It cost $175,000 to change all the school signs, then they didn't make any sense so it took $175,000 to change them back!" the customer ranted. "That's your tax dollars at work for you."

"Okay. . . "

"So," the customer said, as if to summarize, "There better be black beans in that aisle by tomorrow! And next time I come in here I better see a sign that says 'Cesar Chavez Aisle!'"

"Okay, sir, I'll be sure to talk to my managers," the employee said.

The customer went back and forth a few times, making the same points, with the employee doing his best to act like he was listening attentively and would do something about this terrible tragedy. Then, he stormed out and got into his gigantic, shiny pick up truck.

The employee came back to his post at the self check out section. As I walked out, I made eye contact with the employee and rolled my eyes, silently saying, "Sorry you had to put up with that."

He smiled back, silently saying, "Thanks."

"Have a good evening," I said out loud.

"You, too," the employee said.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

I Don't Care if I Never Get Back

I went to a Mariners game a couple weeks ago, and as soon as I stepped into the ballpark and looked out onto the field, felt the sun, smelled the grass -- it made me nostalgic for the Eugene Emeralds.

The next week, I went to a Beavers game at PGE park. It was a fun time, but the park had a major league attitude, and the Beavers are not a major league team. And, there was no smell of grass. No grass at all.

So, again, it made me nostalgic for the Eugene Emeralds.

When I was a kid, probably starting around the age of 10 or 11 and lasting into my early teens, my Dad used to like to take me out to the old ballpark in Eugene to watch the good old Ems several times each summer. I've never been that into sports, but usually if I have someone to watch them with who is enthusiastic, it rubs off, and I can get into it. Also, as a kid, it was just something fun to do with Dad. The baseball provided nice atmosphere, but I was more interested in the other stuff:

First of all, the car ride was about 2 hours each way, since we lived in McMinnville. And, the games were usually in the evening, which meant we wouldn't get home until midnight the nights we stayed to the end. It was a chance to talk to Dad, and sometimes out of boredom we'd spin serialized stories about Old Rex, a world traveling German Shepard who smoked cigars and rode the rails. His sidekick was Alaskan pilot, "Amazing" Grace, who he met when he was prospecting in the Yukon.

Then, when we got to the park, there were all these great concession stands -- a row of wooden booths on a section of blacktop outside the stadium wall. Dad would always get a big, juicy chicken sandwich grilled by a gigantic chef on a gigantic barbecue in the sunshine. I'd get a mini-pizza from the Track Town Pizza stand. Sometimes we would browse the merchandise. I got an Ems hat one time that I wore every day for years. People would ask who the Ems were, and I'd explain that they're a minor league ball team out of Eugene, and people would wonder why, of all teams, of all sports, would I be an Ems fan?

Well, a big part of it was the ballpark itself. Civic Stadium was (and probably still is) about as old-timey as they get -- not a bad seat in the house, grass and dirt field, rickety bleachers, not a sign of the modern flashy technology that has taken over every other stadium in the U.S. When you went up the stairs into the ballpark, as you came out of the shadows and into the sunlight, the fresh green grass spread out in front of you, and it felt like you were stepping into the past.

Concession vendors prowled the stands, offering peanuts and beer. They'd throw the pack of peanuts up to you along with an empty tennis ball -- you'd stuff your cash in the slit of the tennis ball, and toss it back. Intermittently, you'd hear the voice of a woman bellowing, "GET YOUR ICE COLD MILLER BEER HERE!" Then, you'd see a stocky blonde woman with several pints of beer strapped to her, climbing the bleacher steps towards you. Sometimes Dad couldn't resist and had to buy a beer out of respect for her impressive wind pipes. And, sometimes he'd let me have a taste.

Dad usually bought the scorecard and kept score the old fashioned way, pencilling in what happened each inning. He'd show me how to do it, but I would usually only half pay attention because it was so much to keep track of. But, like making popcorn in a pot on the stove, which my Dad also likes to do and passed on to me, keeping score by pencil at the ball game seems to be a thing of the past.

The cool thing about being into a small team like that, in a small park like that, was that you got to be pretty close to your heroes. There were usually one or two guys on the team at any given time who were clearly going to go on to the majors. One guy I remember specifically was Joe Randa, who went on to play for the Royals, the Reds, the Padres and finally the Pirates. I got his autograph on a program back then, and still have it in the closet of the bedroom I grew up in back in McMinnville.

I used to bring my mitt to the games, but I never caught a ball. Something more unique happened, though: one time one of the players broke a bat, and as he was walking to the dugout, handed it up to me. I rubber banded it together and kept it in the garage for years. I'm not sure where it is now. I think he was from the opposing team, and I think he broke the bat before the game really started, so it's not quite as epic of a story as it could be -- but it seemed pretty awesome to me, at the time.

To me, the broken bat was kind of iconic. It reminded me of the baseball film, THE NATURAL. I remember at a young age, one evening, THE NATURAL was on TV and my Dad was so into it that we moved the television into the dining room so we could continue watching it while we ate. This almost never happened, back then. I was too young to really understand the movie, but the early scenes and the climactic ending scenes both have such iconic imagery and great music, that it was clear that something legendary was going on: the dad dies, the tree struck by lightning, the birth of Wonder Boy, the death of Wonder Boy, the blood on the uniform, the exploding lights.

And, aside from that, it wasn't often I saw Dad watching anything on television that he was that interested in. Well, that's not true -- both of my parents have always liked watching TV in their spare time, but it was rare as a kid and even more rare when I was in my teens, that my Dad would watch something he'd already seen before, especially a movie that was on TV. So it was clear that THE NATURAL was special, in some way.

To this day I still get chills when I watch THE NATURAL -- of course, it's designed to do that to you, which I guess is one of the reasons why it will never really be considered a bonafide "Great" film -- just a pretty good one. But, it's important to me, probably more important to me than it ever was to my Dad, I guess mostly because at a young age it gave me a window of insight into my Dad and becoming a fan of the film made me feel closer to him.

Anyway, those evenings at Civic Stadium were almost like being in THE NATURAL. And, they got me closer to Dad. That's why another baseball film, FIELD OF DREAMS, is so well-loved. Not because it's about baseball, but because it's about connecting with Dad.

Over the years, I've often thought about going back to see the Ems with Dad but for one reason or another we never quite got around to it. Finally, this upcoming weekend, we're going to make our return to Civic Stadium to see the Ems, thanks in part to the Mariners and Beavers reminding me for better or worse what it's like to sit in a good, old fashioned ball park.

This time, we'll be older. I don't know if our Old Rex stories will be as creative, or if the chef at the grill will look as huge, and I won't know any of the players, and none of them will hand me broken bats.

One potential advantage of age is that I'll finally be able to order an ice cold Miller Beer from the beer lady. Although, a drawback of the passage of time is the fact that the beer lady may have moved on. She may no longer prowl the Civic Stadium bleachers.

Still, I'm sure her bellow still echoes:

"COLD BEER HERE!"

Friday, July 17, 2009

3 Dead Crows

I was walking down the street the other day when I saw a dead crow on the sidewalk. It wasn't decomposed or anything, just laying there like someone had stuffed it and preserved it and placed it on the sidewalk. It was as if it had turned to stone while sitting on a telephone wire and simply fallen to the ground, frozen forever.

"Hmm," I thought to myself. "I'll bet you anything running across a dead crow means something spiritual. If I was a more spiritual person, this would probably mean something to me. Maybe I should look it up, just for fun?"

Instead, I promptly forgot about it.

A few days later, walking through another neighborhood, I came upon another dead crow, almost identical to the first one. Naturally, it reminded me of the last one I had found.

"Wow, two dead crows," I thought. "This must surely symbolize something. But what? I guess I'll look it up."

Again, I totally neglected to look it up and went about my life, not believing in such things as harbingers of doom. Or, to be fair, good luck.

Finally, I was walking down the street, once again in yet another neighborhood, when I came across what appeared to be a dead crow. I say "appeared" because it was badly decomposed. Still, it had black feathers. So, I figured, "Christ, here's another dead crow."

This time, I decided to look up what it meant. So, I turned to the world wide web for help and typed, "What does a dead crow mean?" into Google.

First, I came across smart ass answers.

"It means a crow died," one person suggested.

"It means a cat killed a crow," the next said.

Alarmingly, one person said, "Crows are highly susceptible to West Nile virus."

Creepy. Good thing I didn't lick the corpses.

Okay, so I changed the wording of my search to add a more metaphysical angle on things: "What does a dead crow SYMBOLIZE?"

Guess what?

Dead crows don't symbolize anything. I mean, I knew this already, not believing in magic, but I figured there must be someone out there who thinks dead crows mean something. I mean, it seems like almost everything means something to someone. But apparently not dead crows.

I did run across an explanation of what crows in general mean to Native Americans, but I already knew this, thanks to Brandon Lee and Alex Proyas:

"The crow is a messenger of the Creator and travels between this world and the hereafter. He can pass information to humans and sometimes foretell the future."

Yeah, but what does a DEAD crow mean? No messages? No future? No messenger from heaven/hell to here?

In THE CROW, directed by Alex Proyas and starring Brandon Lee (may he rest in peace), the crow seems to bring Eric Draven back to life to allow him to seek revenge on those who killed him. The killers attempt to kill the crow in order to take away Eric Draven's powers, which include good aim, sweet martial arts skills, and the ability to not die. He's kind of like Neo, only, five years before THE MATRIX existed.

Ultimately, the bad guys shoot the crow, and Eric Draven still wins.

Still, it's hilarious when the main bad guy, named Top Dollar, does a reinactment of the crow's shooting:

"Caw, caw. Bang! Fuck, I'm dead!" he says.

I feel like watching THE CROW now.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Emma Nelson smokes weed.

Born out of wedlock to a teenage mom named Spike and a teenage dad who would soon go crazy thanks to Acid, Emma Nelson has been through a lot. From being sexually assaulted by an online predator to getting throat gonorrhea from in exchange for a bracelet, young Emma Nelson has experienced things most of us only have nightmares about.

Now, finally, thanks to the 8th season Degrassi: The Next Generation episode, "Touch of Grey," Emma will experience the ultimate: getting super stoned.

You're probably thinking the same thing I'm thinking -- Emma hasn't gotten stoned yet? Amazingly, the answer is no. Let's examine the episode.

To catch you up, Emma's in college now, and through a resident life mix-up, shares a room with not only teen mom Liberty and would-be teen mom (if not for abortion) Manny, but also the deceptively named Kelly -- a GUY! A DREAMY GUY! One things leads to another, and Emma's fucking him. But, as always, with Emma, there's a problem: not enough people are paying attention to her. Me, me, me, she says. Even her pierce-tongued RA refers to her as "Blonde Emma" to differentiate her from all the other Emmas, even though she has dyed her hair a slightly less blonde shade of blonde. To rub things in, pierce-tongued RA has asked Liberty and Manny to run the floor olympics, but not Emma!

Moments after learning this disturbing news, a stoner named Dyson suddenly shows up. You can tell he's a stoner because he loves quoting Jack Black. Looks like he's best buds with male Kelly. He has the audacity to call Emma, "Girlfriend of Kelly." Owch. Seems Kelly has helped Dyson ace a test, so Dyson bestows a mysterious blue envelope upon Kelly in thanks.

"How can I prove that I've got more to offer than cute hair and a cute boyfriend?" Emma asks.

I don't know. Drug abuse, maybe?

Cue opening credits.

Guess what? Turns out the myterious blue envelope Dyson bestowed on male Kelly contains -- a thank you card. But guess what else it contains?

A JOINT. Cue serious music.

Male Kelly apparently does not hear the serious music and makes 2 mistakes:

1.) he shows the joint to Emma

2.) he acts excited that he now has a joint

Emma instantly goes into Emma mode. "You don't SMOKE, do you?" she asks, judiciously.

Brief discussion about the pros and cons of pot leads to male Kelly suggesting, "Maybe you should be open to new experiences."

Close up on Emma's face. You can see the wheels turning. Not good. It's never good to get Emma thinking. Disaster ALWAYS follows.

Cut to: Degrassi Community School. Oh, good. I was wondering if Degrassi was even in "Degrassi" anymore. But what's this? A couple strangers playing basketball during gym class? Oh wait. Those aren't strangers. Those are the new characters I'm supposed to care about now that all the good characters have left the series to try to become real actors.

So, these nerds are shooting hoops -- girl nerd, who recently let her hair down and stopped wearing Catholic school uniforms (to a public school) every day; and boy nerd, Casey, who is a NINO -- nerd in name only. They've also got their buddy, Connor, who was recently diagnosed with Aspergers.

Is it me -- or is Connor suddenly acting MORE RETARDED now that he's officially diagnosed? Before he seemed a little off, but now that he's officially the Aspergers character it seems like either the writers are playing it up, or Connor is embracing his true self.

First, Connor awkwardly repeats, "Strange noises coming from the stage!" while listening intently to the be-curtained stage (turns out it's miscreants throwing Snap Its or something). Then, he embarrasses himself by enthusiastically saying he'll try out for basketball, and instantly bricking an easy lay up, followed by an enthusiastic (if oblivious), "YES!"

Sigh. Aspergers.

Coach Armstrong also wants Casey to try out, but Casey gets weird and says he'll have to check at home if he can try out. He also gets weird when Girl Nerd asks how he got so good at basketball. Hmmmmmm. . . .

Meanwhile, back at college, tongue-pierced RA lays down the law re: floor olympics. She gives everyone a job except Blonde Emma, who asks the question that is most central to her life:

"What about me?"

Maybe everyone in Degrassi-land could pull together and save the world from a lot of trouble by simply including Emma in things?

Emma goes to see what male Kelly is up to (Liberty makes the catty remark, "Suprise, suprise") only to find 2 chicks staking out his room, looking for weed. After first rejecting the chicks, Emma realizes how much fun it would be to get super stoned with them, and totally bogarts the blue envelope joint.

"Do you wanna, like. . . blaze?" she asks.

CUT TO: shots of Toronto, all featuring forms of public transportation. I like to think this is Canada's way of saying, "Fuck you, America, we CARE about the environment."

Moving on, we find Casey in -- what? A dorm room? No, he's in high school. Oh shit -- it's a GROUP HOME. Group Home supervisor says it's okay to try out for basketball, but that the judge says, ". . . any new violent incidents, and you find yourself a home in Juvee."

VIOLENT INCIDENTS? Looks like we've got ourselves another Sean. Sean, you might remember, deafened a kid by smacking him in the ear at Wasaga beach. Now he's in Iraq. I think. I forget.

Cut back to the dorm: Emma and the 2 chicks have succeeded in becoming super stoned, though like any first-timer, Emma insists she isn't feeling the effects -- then starts instantly displaying how high she is by giggling at dumb things, which it turns out her new pals LOVE.

"You need a new nickname!" one says.

"Blaze!" the other one instantly suggests.

Wow. 30 seonds into her weed career and Emma is nicknamed Blaze. Sheesh.

Similarly, back on the Degrassi basketball court, within 30 seconds of starting basketball tryouts, a bully plays rough and tempts Casey into a near violent incident. Instead, Casey trashes some gym equipment and storms out, thus concerning and confusing the Aspergers ridden Connor.

Back at college, Emma awakens her roommate (and lover) male Kelly to admit she smoked all his weed. Instead of being super pissed, male Kelly is mildly amused. Emma demands more weed (thanks to Chick 1, Becca, thinking she's hilarious) and suggests they should all get high for the floor olympics -- via WEED BROWNIES (also known as pot brownies).

Cut to: floor olympics. Turns out floor olympics are super gay. Dudes marching with flags, and everything. Meanwhile, Becca emBLAZEns Emma's chest with a name tag reading, "Blaze." Emma, a.k.a. Blaze, then goes directly to work, distributing "weed brownies" to all takers (ex miscreant Manny turns her down -- seems now that she's seen the ways of the world she's over weed. Where was Emma 3 years ago? Oh yeah, judging everyone).

Speaking of judging, the chair race event ends and the floor olympic judges display their scores:
one kid holds up a sign marked with a score of 9, the next holds up a sign with a 9.5, and Emma declares, "I give it an avacado!" -- proudly displaying a piece of paper on which she's drawn an avacado. Super high Becca compliments her on how hilarious she is. Personally I thought it was more hilarious when Emma boycotted geneticially engineered foods in the cafeteria. Though maybe unintentional hilarity doesn't count.

After the olympics everyone is super high, and Liberty does not approve. Stoner Dyson proves he's the future of comedy by referring to her as "Soberdy." Becca is alarmingly comatose with semen all over her face -- wait, as Emma wipes it up, it looks like it's just drool. Still, judging from the ominous music, I'm going to guess she's not just sleeping harmlessly.

Cut to: more public transportation. Okay, we get it Toronto. Jesus.

Connor barges in on Casey's super secret boys' home.

"How did you find me here?" Casey asks.

"Well, I got your name off the sign up sheet. Then, I did a reverse lookup online. Then I walked to this address. Then that man let me in," Connor says.

Sigh. Aspergers.

Turns out despite his Aspergers, Connor is there because he's worried about Casey's violent outburst. Casey announces he's quitting basketball and makes Connor swear he won't tell anyone about the boys' home. Connor says he'll keep that promise in exchange for Casey not giving up basketball. Full circle. Checkmate. Casey's back in.

Meanwhile, as Emma sleeps peacefully, an ambulance crew drags Becca off to the hospital.

"What if the drugs were laced?" Emma asks.

Holy shit, she's concerned about someone besides herself for once?

"I gave them to her!" she continues. Oh, I get it. Me, me, me.

Meanwhile the nerds talk more at Degrassi. Jesus, who gives a shit. We get it. Casey has an anger problem, he thinks Connor ratted the whole boys' home thing out, Nerd Girl, looking like a 12 year old Rebecca Watson, is getting concerned.

Back at the dorm, pierce-tongued RA lectures everyone that Becca went into a diabetic coma from eating too many brownies! Good for Emma, she didn't do it after all. It was just good old sugar and diabetes. Oh wait. Pierce-tongued RA says if it wasn't for the weed, Becca would have never forgotten her insulin. Oops. Looks like it's Emma's fault, after all. Still, she wants to hang onto the weed, and her pothead boyfriend male Kelly is suddenly cured and wants to get rid of it.

In the locker room, the nerds argue about stuff and blah, blah, blah. Who cares.

Emma finds out that even stoner Dyson has gotten rid of his weed, due to dorm searches, and commands male Kelly to get rid of her weed via cell phone. Kelly grabs the weed and bolts, just in time to run into gigantic campus security dudes.

"Sorry, Kel," says pierced-tongue RA, who I'm beginning to think, based on her constantly sleepy and relaxed voice and half closed eye lids, loves to smoke weed.

Back at Degrassi, more nerds. . . blah. Guess what? Things work out. Aspergers even makes the basketball team. Yeah, right. Next:

Male Kelly packs his bags. He's been "kicked out of rez." But not college. Emma offers to fess up but Kelly says he wants to take the fall. "Do you forgive me?" Emma asks. By the aggressive way Male Kelly forcefully (and grossly) kisses her, I'm guessing she's forgiven.

As Male Kelly leaves the hall and c0-eds have the most fun ever in the background, Emma watches, leaning in the doorway, arms crossed. Wow. Even when a dude is taking a fall for her, Emma still manages to exude an "I'm judging you!" vibe.

Cut to: close up on Emma's face. FREEZE FRAME.

THE END.

Another classic. Thanks, Degrassi.

Thursday, July 9, 2009

20 People

I came across the following thingy on Facebook. So I did it. It was fun:

"Name 20 people off the top of your head. Don't read the questions underneath until you write the names of all 20 people, and be sure to tag the person who tagged you after completing it yourself. *this is a lot funnier if you actually list the names first, no cheating!*"

Hmm. 20 people off the top of my head. Okay. . .

1. Captain Kirk
2. Robin Hood
3. Aladdin
4. Marty McFly
5. Charles Bukowski
6. Batman
7. Artie Lange
8. William Wallace
9. Kelly MacDonald
10. Orson Welles
11. Paul Newman
12. John McClane
13. Stanley Kubrick
14. Audrey Hepburn
15. Peter Venkman
16. Snake Eyes
17. Vin Diesel
18. Buzz Aldrin
19. The T-Rex from Jurassic Park
20. Fay Wray

THE Q U E S T I O N S . .

• How did you meet 10?
I first met Orson Welles when he was playing Unicron in TRANSFORMERS: THE MOVIE.

• What would you do if you had never met 14?
I haven't met Audrey Hepburn. If I did meet her I'd attempt to sleep with her, assuming she'd be in her prime. And by "sleep" I mean, "have sex with."

• What would you do if 20 and 15 dated?
If Fay Wray and Peter Venkman dated, I'd make a documentary about it. They'd have a lot in common, because Fay Wray acted opposite King Kong, and Peter Venkman battled the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.

• Do you think anyone on this list will get married to another person on this list?
Uhm. . . only three are both real people AND still alive -- Artie Lange, Kelly MacDonald and Vin Diesel. I guess I could see Artie and Vin getting married once they're both out of the closet. I think Kelly MacDonald is saving herself for me.

• Did you ever like 3?
Yeah. When I was in 7th grade I could quote the entirety of ALADDIN.

• Have you ever seen 13 cry?
No, I've never seen Stanley Kubrick cry. It could be that he was actually a cyborg.

• Would 4 and 12 make a good couple?
Marty McFly and John McClane? Fuck yes! Think about it: McFly. . . McClane. . . in. . . BACK TO THE FUTURE WITH A VENGEANCE. Best flick ever. McClane could kill the Libyans for Marty, Marty could take McClane back in time and fix DIE HARD 3. I'm surprised no one thought of it before.

• Would number 1 and 2 make a good couple?
Yeah, I think Captain Kirk and Robin Hood would probably get along. They both kind of have a thing against authority, and are leaders of men. They might butt heads a little when it comes to deciding which one's the bitch, but that could be half the fun of the relationship. Plus, Kirk could teach Robin Hood how to backhand people and do flying kicks, while Robin Hood could teach Kirk how to shoot flaming arrows. Dude. Captain Kirk + Flaming arrows = you're welcome J.J. Abrams.

• Describe 8:
William Wallace: two words -- brave heart.

• Last time you saw 12?
When I was in Ohio for my grandma's funeral me and my dad unwound by watching McClane in DIE HEARD 2, which, in my opinion, gets better every time I watch it.

• Tell me something about 17:
Rumor has it Vin Diesel makes his girlfriends play board games before having sex. I like to think it's HERO QUEST but it's probably just MONOPOLY.

• What's 7's favorite color?
Artie Lange's favorite color? White? Like blow? (Just guessing.)

• What would you do if 1 just confessed they liked you?
If Captain Kirk confessed he liked me, it would make my day. Maybe even my year. There isn't much else that could make me happier.

•When was the last time you talked to number 6?
I've never talked TO Batman, but last night me and Ryan were talking LIKE Batman. We were doing impressions of Batman abruptly quitting his job at Starbucks on his 1 year anniversary. It was hilarious. I told Ryan to do an impression of The Joker quitting, next, but he became self conscious and refused. It was just as well, because it would have probably scared me.

• How do you think 19 feels about you?
I think if I move, the T-Rex from Jurassic Park will feel hungry and eat me. If I stand still, it will probably save me from the velociraptors (by eating them instead).

• What language does 18 speak?
Buzz Aldrin speaks American. If you suggest otherwise, he'll punch you in the face.

• Who is #2 married to?
Duh, Robin Hood is married to Maid Marian. Figuratively, though, he's married to JUSTICE.

• What is 5's favorite food?
Charles Bukowski's favorite food is alcohol. His second favorite food is cigarettes.

• Would you ever date anyone on this list?
I would date Kelly MacDonald. I would also date Audrey Hepburn and Fay Wray, assuming they magically came back to life and were somewhere in their late 20s or early 30s.

• Is 11 single?
Paul Newman's dead now, but when he was alive he was married to Joanne Woodward.

•What's 10's last name?
Orson Welles' last name is Welles.

• What is 9 best at?
Kelly MacDonald is a good actress. Especially when she's simulating sex in TRAINSPOTTING.

• What do you think about 20?
I think Fay Wray was hot. I always liked her because when I was a kid I was obsessed with KING KONG. She sure can scream.

• What is the best thing about 1?
The best thing about Captain Kirk is how he's so confident about everything. He's like, "Fuck you, Universe! Bam! I'm Captain Kirk! I don't like to lose! I need my pain! Let them die!" Etc.

• What would you like to tell 16 right now?
Snake Eyes, I'm sorry the GI JOE movie looks so shitty. Maybe it'll be good! It could happen.

• How did you meet 8?
I met William Wallace at the Mack Theater in 1995. My buddy Clint and I went to see BRAVEHEART there because they were famous for letting kids into R-rated movies. That was the night Wallace stole my heart.

• What is the worst and best thing about number 2?
Worst thing about Robin Hood is Kevin Costner. Best thing about Robin Hood is Errol Flynne. But don't get me wrong: I love Kevin Costner.

Monday, July 6, 2009

I solve drugs

When I was a kid, teachers at school were always telling me to say no to drugs. But in doing so, they almost always came up with outlandish situations where other kids were just sitting around waiting to offer me drugs in the first place.

Once, after a swimming lesson, I was waiting for my mom to pick me up. I noticed some kids standing nearby. They appeared to be popping pills. They looked like pink and white capsules. They were exactly the shape and size of the drugs that had been depicted in numerous photocopied DARE handouts.

One kid noticed me looking over at them and held one of the pills out to me.

"You want one?" he asked.

Finally the moment had come. I was being offered drugs. And, I knew what to do.

"No," I said.

The kid shrugged and went about his business. That was easy, I thought. None of that over-the-top peer pressure I'd always been warned about. No switch blades. Just a shrug. Just saying no apparently did work, after all.

When my mom showed up to pick me up, I hopped into the car and told her all about what had happened.

"There were kids taking drugs at the swimming pool," I said.

"What?" my mom asked. "What did the drugs look like?"

"Pink and white pills," I said.

"Oh," my mom said. "They sound like Good 'n' Plenty's. You should have taken one. They're good."

She would have failed DARE.

Friday, July 3, 2009

My quest

Ever since moving into my new apartment, I've been priding myself on the lack of non-human living creatures who have penetrated its walls.

That all ended a couple months ago when I noticed a line of ants walking through my kitchen. Having dealt with them in my old apartment, I immediately concocted a lethal mixture of white vinegar and water and sprayed them to death. The benefit of this mixture is that the vinegar also destroys the trail the ants make and messes up their senses, so their buddies stop following them into my house.

A few weeks went by and one day I noticed that, although they had stopped coming into my kitchen, the ants seemed interested in a spot near my front door. They'd come in, walk around in my entry way, and go back out. I sprayed them all with vinegar again, and noticed that they'd go away for a while and eventually come back.

I couldn't figure out what was so great about my entry way, so it was frustrating. But, it wasn't as gross as a big long line of ants coming into my kitchen, so I'd spray maybe once a week and they'd go away.

One day, as I was about to kill some of them, I noticed they were singing a song.

"We are the ants, led by King Antony," they sang in high pitched voices.

"I demand to see King Antony," I said.

King Antony stepped forward. He had a tiny beard, tiny crown and tiny cape.

"It is I, King Antony," he said.

"What's the deal, quit coming into my house," I said.

"But our anthill is under attack by a vicious dog," King Antony said.

I demanded to see, so King Antony led me to their kingdom, which was definitely under attack by a rabid dog. I picked up a stick and threw it yonder, and the dog ran away.

"Thank you for saving our kingdom," King Antony said.

"Don't mention it," I said. "Now, stay out of my house."

"Come! Let us show you something!" King Antony said. And the ants started singing, and walking off in the direction of a large haystack nearby. I shrugged and followed.

The ants infiltrated the hay stack, and after rustling around for a while, King Antony came out with a golden needle.

"Behold," King Antony said. "A golden needle."

"Thanks," I said, taking the needle. "But seriously, stay out of my house."

The ants resumed singing and marched away. I put the golden needle in my inventory thinking it might come in handy, some day.