A Girl named "Peggy" and sangwiches

Okay, it's clear I'll never catch up. Nor will I live a very productive and happy life. But I must say that I do absolutely LOVE the vast majority of my coworkers, and I hate myself for it. Ms. Davis has invited me out to drink and fraternize with the colleagues on a couple of occasions and I have not once regretted it. I'm sorry I've been neglecting my readers, but I'm working full time for the first time in my entire life and I absolutely am crazy about the folks I work with. All except for one lousy manager. And even another manager has asked me to overlook the one lousy manager (who, by the way, actually interviewed me). This is the same job I interviewed for and cursed during the interview. This is the same job I sat through and got a text message in. It's fucking amazing. A guy asked me the other day if I actually got paid to work there. I just finished my second week of full time employment, in my life, plus I'm maintaining a rapport with the Koreans I tutor, and I feel totally in place.

And then there's Ms. Davis, who I'm not related to because she's apparently Lithuanian. She invited me the first time, when we became the 2's booze crew... and was the only skirt the second time we went debauching and was totally chill with it. What girl would be down for the cause like that without any wet blanket tendencies? Not a dame exists... except Ms. blue-haired Davis. Of course half the entourage is homosexual... but meh!

Today I'm feeling:

An intense crush on a girl named "Peggy."

Fuck it!

Name that missing vowel. Oh, there's a consonant on the loose too.

Fuck it, I'll admit it. I love everybody! I LOVE you. Even though I'm "learning" every time I turn the corner. And by learning, I mean the hard way. And by the hard way, I mean by paying for it. It seriously is like tu-fucking-ition.

And I've got a sinus infection. The facial pain is immense. No Leila, it's not sympathy pains either. And I love you. Big hugs.

Today I'm feeling:

Amorous

Subtitled

You think you know a person...

So this woman I tutored, a Spanish national, stars in a feature fucking film! Belen Rueda, I recognized the name in the opening credits the moment it popped up. Holy shit, I taught her [some] English. Yes, it was her and she was awesome in the film. El Ofanato. The Orphanage. It's like I was the personal language coach to a Hollywood star. Go me.

And Phisoderm. Generally, the best facial soap I've ever used in my entire life. I go without it for a couple months, and I break out like mad. Pimple here, pimple there to start. Then it's a full on face full of pock marks and bumps. It's only alleviated by one thing. Phisoderm bar soap. I even tried the liquid stuff after I realized no brick and mortar retailers carry it 'round these here parts. Then I read the reviews. And I felt like I was no longer alone in this world. Just for that minuscule, fleeting moment.

And, the best thing in life: Tegan and Sara apparel, their latest EP and their trailer talk videos on MySpace.com. I'm such a lesbian in a past life.

Today I'm feeling:

like real Sean

lemme update ya

My people, what's up!?!?!?!?!

It's been a while. I've resumed playing basketball and boy, where has my conditioning gone? Hit the track the day after to try and recoup my long lost breath, and my knee is mush. Nothing. So I applied for this full time job that gives full benefits from day one, without a probationary period. My goal being to get my knee looked at. Not sure if that will work out, but I'll see.

Movies? I saw BadLand and balled tears. Man did I cry. I was Jerry, the main character. Depressed man that he was, I was almost everything he is. Go see it. Except if you're a woman. The women in the theater didn't like it at all.

Today I'm feeling:

Manic

AntiDepressant

This is the worst time of year for me. Admittedly, I'm at my lowest just as the calendar is about to read "December". Thankfully, my people have been aces. Maykin, who I've showered with constant sound advice for the past couple months gave me a ring today just to have me come over and do something. The other night, he bought me some fried rice and we played pool on his dime. I spoke to a good, great, grand friend in Kansas tonight too. It's funny, but just thinking about her puts the biggest, brightest smile on my face. It's weird, but she's a completely platonic friend who I associate with nothing more than smiling. And, of course there are the new folks. The weird short Russian friend of mine who is such a pleasure to be around, or the eccentric organic head with the ornate forehead jewelry and the penchant for ostentatious rings. And then there are my friends who are fairly new, though we're very familiar. Like Jenny, who I love to bits. Or Lindsey, who I only know through iChat but we'll inevitably share oxygen at some point in the future. Good times friends.

A friend recently admitted to me she really wants to quit cursing. I thought about it and responded in a way that shocked even me. Sometimes, I really outdo myself. I told her to keep cursing, citing it's emotional efficacy. These were earnestly wise words. It frustrates the soul when, in speaking to someone, a flat affect or a blank stare meets you in response to your input. However, a failsafe way to ensure a reaction, even though it'll more than likely always be a negative response, is to curse. We know when we curse people respond poorly. But why do we curse? Is it out of habit? Really? Why pick up the habit? I'll tell you why, because we, as people, the grand communicators we are, need feedback. We need to know, definitively, that what we've conveyed was in fact received by our intended audience. It feels good, if even in the subconscious. That's why we talk, after all. To be heard. And nothing elicits a response like one of those forbidden four letter words. From childhood we've been dared to use 'em. And from childhood, it was one of the best ways to NOT be ignored or drowned out. Curse and someone will say something to you. Or show emotion. It's almost guaranteed. Honestly, being ignored has far harsher consequences than merely being looked at as obnoxious because of our choice of language. It shocked me to the point the shock truly has yet to wear off that I was capable of this thought. Man, do I ever give sound advice. Moral of the story, any reaction qualifies your existence. It's better for the spirit to be acknowledged, than to be. I'm not saying the verbal abuse tirade should be a daily ritual, but I will implore everyone to see the value in being acknowledged and chose tactful situations for the use of the lowbrow language.

Today I'm feeling:

qualified

Natalie, from Kansas, and I talked about Kate Tucker and the Sons of Sweden with great glee. For that, today's recommended listening is linked. Please feel free to listen to the new album, in its entirety, for free! Over and over and over again. It's the soundtrack to today's post.

Defeat

Fall 2007 on Eastern Pkwy, B'klyn, NY

I can't shake this feeling of defeat. I'm going backwards in like everything I do. Money is being spent faster than it's being made, though I hear everyone shares that complaint, and my own self efficacy is constantly eroding with each glimpse in the mirror.

Them shits need to be shattered.

My Thanksgiving dinner plate overflowed with yum yum food, but it gave me the runs. And when I had left overs today, more belly running.

And to all this seasonal cheer, I say fuck it.

Today I'm feeling:

defeated

Career Update

Chris and G

Okay, so Sean can scratch office job off his list of potential career paths. I fell into a grove and it was okay, the Yale Club of New York City, with its moneyed members and sticklers for detail. But it felt bad to be idle with so many busy bodies pacing all around me. Certainly not a match for teaching. I guess that's what I call a career update. All the while, I make my mother so much more disappointed in me. We had a talk the other day. She said my father told her outright to get an abortion when she fessed up and said Boy Sean was on the way. The biggest disappointment to me, as far as I alone am concerned, is that she was warned or at least informed and still decided to have me. Women are indeed crazy. Thankfully, I've not come across a woman loose enough in mind to bear me a youngun. And if she did, like my mother she'd, in the future, rue the day.

"Water always seeps to its own level."
Anonymous

Today I'm feeling:

rued

Ten fold

The Christmas Tree at Rockefeller Center in NYC

I interviewed the other day for a job I thought I'd actually like. But I blew it. I received a text message in the interview as well as spewed an expletive. Yuck. Actually, I think that was quite uncharacteristic of me. But I acknowledge that there's no way I deserve that gig. So onward and perhaps downward I say!

The thing is, it's quite depressing to be so flippin' worthless, and although I realized that I'm worthless a long time ago, it still boggles the mind that every so often I still try. And when I fail, which by nature is inevitable, I get wholly depressed. Like I wasn't depressed to begin with. So I took a very much lesser job to occupy my mind for a couple weeks. In the process I will up my miserable quotient maybe ten fold. And then I'll use the proceeds to help pay for some long over due body work on my automobile. And this all blows.

Today I'm feeling:

on the periphery

Entertainment Man

Okay, so this time around I have 4 movies on the docket.

I saw:

What would Jesus buy?, a low budget indie film produced (or rather financed/fronted) by Morgan Spurlock (of Supersize me fame). It wasn't exactly a thrill ride, but was a film with a different look into the world of consumerism. It gave us no real sense of why the Church Of Stop Shopping wanted us to not shop. The Church is a comedy ensemble that travels the country to perform and encourage consumers to do less consuming. It was funny at times, but mostly missed the mark. I'd recommend you all skip this one.

The Mist has got to have the world's worst acting. The screenplay was adapted from the Stephen King novel or story or what have you. The emotion is off center and the sentiment is never real. The effects and lighting needed some work and the only thing that redeems this film is its surprise and shocking ending. The characters never really endear themselves to you and it's hard to overlook bad acting. I'd recommend you all skip this one.

Love during the time of cholera was missing something. Someone in line for another movie I saw said that it would have been more authentic and better had it been in Spanish and I must say that I agree. With it all, I couldn't really tell where its heart lies. Is it a love story? A comedy? A drama? A chick flick? And it was so cheesy at times. Yucky! Still, it was entertaining, if less than wholesome. I'd recommend you catch this on late night cable in a couple years' time.

Beowulf was, well, Beowulf. It hearkened back to the bad 300 movie experience, except that Beowulf was great. It has a real epic story with soul, edge, sensuality, and direction. The dialog never grates and the art style really meshes well with this film. A true hero film with a man who projects himself as larger than life until things start to unravel and (potential spoiler) he has to admit, with a heavy heart, that he too is flawed. It's great in 3-D as it is in IMAX form as I'd imagine. It was a totally fun experience. Go see this thing.

Today I'm feeling:

Like Roeper

Rosey

Marital Bliss

So I scoped a little of the Charlie Rose show the other night, while drunk of course. Of course. Charlie was interviewing Jay-Z and I must say, Rose is the most impressive interviewer I have ever seen. It was a clinic on how to interview. The poise and preparation was impeccable. Rose asked all the right questions and elicited the most candid responses. Furthermore, he made Jay-Z talk about his lyrical content. NO ONE does that. All these hip hop oriented blow hards (read: Angie Martinez, Funk Master Flex and their ilk) simply are awe inspired and merely pamper such an artist. They never get any introspect. They are merely satisfied that the music has a good sound. Never probe about the meanings of anything specifically. Rose was a class act. He had Jay quote lines and talk about their meanings and the reasoning behind writing the songs. Sincerely the best performance by a journalist I have ever witnessed in my life. Sincerely. Catch that shit on YouTube or something.

"So I sipped some Michelobe slow and had to write this poem/
when I saw Hov getting right with Charlie Rose/
two of America's most talented pros, it was even better soaked/
Sauced, whatever, that shit was boss/
a black man that lacked slang outside of the courts/
a little promo for the feature American Gangster/
made me think back to how I preyed on people like an American pastor/
but I usurp any patterns and only when inspired do I pen a rap verse/
never been one for money and maybe that hurts/
happiness I aspire from the cradle to the black hearse/
but to achieve that mess, I guess sadness I'd have to find first/
I've been typing for a little over 6 minutes, but I'm done now, my mind swerved"
Luxembourg Sean 2007

Today I'm feeling:

sanctimonious

Les Savy Fav has a nice song out... Party like the year before 2000.

American Pastor

Maybe it's not me and it's the camera? I haven't been posting because all my photos turn out like shit lately if I even bring my camera along. I can't believe this. All my photos are so fucking blurry!

Looks like I was too drunk to ride the train this morning. I heard some Starbucks employees chatting loudly, so I waltz over and asked them to speak up so I could actually hear everything. Then, on their way off the train, I offered them some Asian porn. Don't ask.

So the mother bear is in the promise land. So I bought an unlimited ride Metrocard and decided to ride the train once a day at least. I ended up seeing three movie screenings, with a 4th on the docket tomorrow.

Here are my short ass synopses:

P2: Don't see this garbage. Thrill ride my ass. The evildoer is just a lonely, sick jerk and the acting leaves much to be desired. It's almost too predictable at times.

Signal: See this shit only if you got a kick out of the latest Tarantino flick or 28 Days Later. It's that eerie. Three vignettes by three different directors progressing the same "story". I enjoyed it and you might too, honestly. Especially the part in the second vignette where the character, Jim Parsons, talks about his plans to just pee in a girl's butt for New Year's. The third and final vignette spoils the movie and is just plain bad. It's devoid of any clear vision and just runs with the gory theme without any personality. They saved the worst for last. Still, it'll be worth a dvd rental whenever the hell it's available in that format.

Juno: Not as great as it's being billed. But, if you go see the screening, you get a free t-shirt and that just can't be beat (except that by going to the Signal screening, you get a energy drink and a free shot at the "after party"). Outside of the freebie the movie has a superb story. The writing is suspect as the dialog is conspicuously contrived, but that's the appeal of the film. Apparently, Juno is a smart lipped precocious 16 year old who reminds me, vividly, of Darlene Connor of the Roseanne sitcom of the '80's. Her slick mouth, unlike Darlene's, endears her to everyone around her. I'm obsessed with her Converse in the movie too. I wish I could find them in stores or online somewhere. Anyway, the actress who plays Juno, Ellen Page, is just plain boss. She truly is gifted and gorgeous. Prototypical girl next door, tomboy, gorgeous. And funny. Especially whilst toting a jug of Sunny Delight. The movie itself is cute and sweet.

Today I'm feeling:

critical

Pick it up

"This girl called me up and said "you should come over, no one's home!" So I get there, and no one was home."
The Solipsist

Dear Luxembourg,

I have a problem. My life is backwards. I can't seem to get this ship to float in the right direction. It keeps going into the wind. I bought a gun the other day, but all it shoots is water. I bought a camera too, and all its photos are taken as negatives. All! And it's digital.

My job is the pits. In the evenings, on my commute home, the only thing running through my mind is the fact that I have to do this waspish act again in the morning. My morning coffee is lightened with fits of depression.

The only highlight of my life, so far, was this one book I'm reading and in fact, I'm writing you because I just finished it.

Please help me.

Sincerely,

Loathsome in Lubbock




Dear Loathsome,

I'll be honest, dawg. Push-ups. Do them in the morning when you get up; do them in the evening before you settle into bed. You'll find that, before long, your upper body is strapping. But it doesn't have to end there, you can start working on your legs too.

If that doesn't help, inject passion into your life with some other interest. Take a course in capoeira. Take an art class. You're a man right? Find where the local women hang out! That's not to say that you should start shopping for women's shoes all of the sudden, but it wouldn't hurt to stop in a shoe store one day. Maybe survey a few of the shopping women and find out why they're buying shoes today. Or just ask the salesperson. If it's to go clubbing, well buddy, you've got to go clubbing. If they're for church, find God. If they're for work, find out what kind of work, and change careers.

If you're a woman, by happenstance of course, try getting a gym membership. Not into muscle heads? Try the supermarket. It's true, single men have to shop for themselves. Where better to meet some new men than in the express line, just be sure to leave the coupons at home and only pick up 12 items or less.

I hope some of this helps. If it doesn't, there's always meth.

Best,

Luxembourg

Today I'm feeling:

the panache

Image Deleted

I'm feeling kind of panicky! Why? Nobody's home. Actually my "brother" is home, which means that nobody is home. He's repulsive in a way that transcends "siblings" not getting along. I really do not like him. Really. It irks me to be here while he's here. I hate it when he's here and my mother is in the house, but I really can't stand it here when it's just me and him. For many reasons! And it may seems trivial, but for starters, the television is on so loud right now, it is as if I LIVE at the movies. Which is totally unfair. I'm going to scowl. But I'm going to suck it up. My life is going to turn to shit for the next two weeks, but I'm going to soldier up. I'm just saying.

Last time it was just me and him, he almost burned down the house. I'm just saying.

I'm finishing up my Jew research tomorrow, which is ironic because my mother will be beginning her trip to Israel tomorrow. Zaheer asked me if I was worried. Dumb question I reasoned. I'm really not. Because what if something happens? And I'm like what? You know what I'm saying? I'm just saying.

"I always pick all the wrong things to say"
Nicole Atkins on Kill the headlights

Today I'm feeling:

like I'm not trying hard enough here

Rest in Peace... Piglet

Piglet! ????-2007

They say life is fleeting, and no where is that more evident than when we lose a loved one. And Piglet is indeed loved. She came into our lives with the sole purpose of making a lasting, loving bond and though it couldn't last forever on this Earth, the bond remains for eternity, if in the hereafter.

You're home now Piglet and I'll be sure to see you later. In the meantime, and in between time, may the green leaf lettuce field runeth over in that big green pasture in the sky!

Today I'm feeling:

for a salad!

In memory of Piglet

Pure fuckery

Living in the Fire Lane

Sorry about the dearth of postings y'all. Truth be told, my excuse this time is my lack of photos. It's hard for me to grab the camera and go now-a-days. I got too many devices as it is and I loathe carrying extra shit. And, in the process, I miss capturing the hot shit.

So I needed a job man. I needed one for real. Something to occupy my mind more than stuff my malnourished, concave pockets. The funny thing is that my mind is the opposite of my bank statement. My mind is obese with ponderings and chock full of food. It's like the Thanksgiving dinner of my being. It seems like not a moment passes where I'm not enveloped in 3 or 4 simultaneous, engrossing yet demonic thoughts.

So back to the gig I went to grab. It was an ESL tutoring thing at BMCC, Manhattan's community college. I showed up early, prepared and the whole nine yards. And I landed it. But the pay is miserable, the hours are fleeting and the fact that they needed me to shell out $75 on fingerprints turned me the fuck off. I declined the job. Seriously, to pay for the fingerprints would take more than a week's wages. Furthermore, they want my biometrics. I'm not with that shit. I wouldn't be teaching, nor working with minors. This is a fucking college! What the fuck is up with that wack shit, dawg?

Took Maykin out to the club. Figured the prospect of new skins might get his mind off his failed (for the time being) relationship. That guy is so uncool at times. His buddy calls him at 2am and wanted him to go way uptown to watch him perform at 4am. 4am? Obviously, he doesn't play that well to get stuck in a 4am time slot. So this guy gets way aggravated with me because he wanted me to drive him back to my place for him to pick up his ride and go over yonder. But I was drunk, and at a club full-o-bitches. Had to brush his punk ass off and gravitate to someone celebrating a birthday or something. Fuck it. What would y'all do?

Welcome to me, you little iVoyeurs!

Today I'm feeling:

Like the king size bed that always gets slept on!

You were all I need!

"Yes Boris!" Many years ago, I worked at Macy's here in Brooklyn as one of the guys who marked down prices. I would meander around the store, scan shit, and mark their prices down. It was monotonous and the pay was miserable, but it came with some outrageous perks. The team I worked for was afforded some long breaks, there was tons of overtime (which I didn't appreciate, but it was so far from home that when I just didn't want to be bothered with the long ride I stayed on the clock until I couldn't take it anymore). Fear not, I rarely worked overtime. I once went to the movies while on the clock. The funny thing is, my wage after taxes for those 2 hours barely covered the price of my movie ticket. Had I bought any snack, which I didn't, I would've been in the red for that number.

But the best perk of all, as a young man disillusioned by thoughts that I might one day make something of myself, was the opportunity to socialize. With all sorts of people. Mostly my Black people. I've come a little ways since then and, admittedly, see things in a whiter hue, if you will, now (I want to say "no prejudice" but I really would hate myself for lying). Still, this was important to the development of my thinking and personality. Anyway, one of the more personality infused characters that I had the opportunity of socializing with was a Jamaican named Boris. There's a heavy accent on the first syllable of his name. I still remember saying "yes Boris" with a huge grin every time I saw the man. He was always pissed about some thing. One over night shift we worked together, we walked up to a McDonald's drive-thru a few blocks away and Boris ordered a fish sandwich (he didn't touch the other types of dead animal). I don't know, the McDonald employees were having a tough night and didn't give poor Boris his fish sandwich promptly enough. I still chuckle to myself everything I recall what Boris did next. He didn't complain too loudly, just hocked and spat square into the face of the manager on duty. Go Boris.

Anyway, all that to say I kind of like the sound of the name Boris. There's also Boris Diaw of the Phoenix Suns and Boris Karloff, the horror flick actor of a few decades ago. Not a bad name. It's currently the most likely name I'd consider if I had to name a boy child. Maybe it's all for the best that I won't be naming any children, not in this lifetime.

On second thought, I don't really care for the name all that much.

"I'm in the middle of your picture"
Radiohead on All I need

Can't get this fucking song out my head.

Today I'm feeling:

like this brain of mine is all I need

Anti-Doting

"Never!" Okay, there, I said it!

I was riding the J train. Spotted a hottie. She was on a T-Mobile Sidekick, so I knew she was young. I got off at the Junction to hop on the L. So too did she. I got a seat on the platform. She decided to stand. I was like, come hither, chick. And she was like, come hither, fellow. I won. She sat next to me. She was cute. Really cute. Had a hoop ring in her lip. Wore Earthy tones. Had some camouflage shoes and a handbag to match. But young. And talked so lovely. Borderline talked my fucking head off. So nice. So very, very nice. I loved that she just openly talked to me about everything. Like how she goes to high school. Well, not everything... we only rode the train together for maybe 10 minutes. She complimented my style. I complimented her style. It worked well, the two of us. But, alas, I'm 10 years older than she is. But, I'm a 27 year old 18 year old so maybe we're the same age? But we aren't. And so I didn't get her number or her AIM. If I did, she'd probably IM me on that horrid device anyways. So I carried on for the rest of my day with a smile. I went to the Center for Jewish History as planned, then tutored a sick Su, then came home for a spell and on to the Nicole Atkins live show. She mingled in the fucking crowd the whole time. She was like one of us. And she had no security detail and no one hovered over her. It was sick. The way things should be. And now I'm all puckered with the liquid courage and about to hit the sack. Can you motherfuckers say "good day"?

Today I'm feeling:

grateful Brooklyn isn't really on fire

Not minding my business

Like I don't have enough love woes of my own. I helped my road dawg move out of his now ex-girlfriend's homestead. Nice place, I might add. I could see how he got so comfortable there. He said he did have some home improvement done to the place in his short time there, about 2 years. He said it was him what made the place so livable. But in all truth, the motherfucker did look comfty. But anyway, helped him move his fucking weights set and all the other crap garbage out of the place. It was like the 3rd time I moved all that shit. He used to keep it at my place. So we moved some of the shit to storage and some to his bro's place.

It turns out, he was blackballed out the place. According to him, her mother conspired to have him vacate. But the ex-girlfriend was with it too. He swears up and down that's it. He's done. Then, the very same evening... can you guess what happened? She phones him! Says she just wondered if they could go out. Like that night. Like on a date. Like... are they dating? What a confused bitch. So anyway, they didn't have a big huge argument or anything, she just peacefully gave him the boot. You kick someone out like that, in a nice amicable way, then want to hang out? What, does she feel guilty? For now, he wasn't with it. But I see them mending this some how in due time. I know this though, I'm not moving shit back into that apartment.

Ooh, Rag and bone by the White Stripes... pretty interesting track. Give it a whirl.

Today I'm feeling:

like hip hop is dead, damn!

I've gotta start minding my own damn business.

Music is my hot, hot sex

More on CSS! Apparently, they're named "I'm tired of being sexy." You sons of bitches!

Nicole Atkins and The Sea is releasing Neptune City on October 30th. I predict it will be a debut for the ages. I've heard the leak over at mtvu.com and I must admit, it's worth my dollars and I'm a stingy bastard. She's like Amy Winehouse, with less pipes (both the voice box kind and the crack pipe kind).

Okay, off to better understand the Jews.

Today I'm feeling:

shalom

Pacheco de Melo

I'll be helping Maykin move his belongings in a few hours. He was with this broad for 4 years. They were a staple, in my lives as well as their own. I busted their asses in pool countless times. Joked with 'em too. Ppppfffffttttt! They're stupid. So silly. Any-fucking-way...

Y'all seen the latest iPod Touch commercial? Wondering "hey, what's the name of that song so I could illegally download it or some shit?" Well, uncle Lux gotcha! It's called Music is my hot, hot sex and it's by CSS, a group of Brazilian wanna be pop stars.

Speaking of music... I can't shake this Alicia Keys' song out my head either. Her singles absolutely rock. I'm not really big on R&B. It's my least favorite genre of all the music genres I can tolerate. But Alicia always finds a way to make me rock. Plus she's a sweet bitch.

Today I'm feeling:

like everything's gonna be alright!

Quippin'

Got my car fixed yo. Sort of. Bought the passenger side mirror and put that bitch in myself. Broke up lots of clips in the process and had to order new ones. Then I have to see someone about repairing the fender before it starts 'a rustin'. I'm getting to be a little handy man.

And on to Maykin. I really don't know what the full story is behind him and his sweetheart, but he's been trying to get inside her for sometime now. I guess make up sex. No, I know make up sex. But it ain't been happenin'. They live together and they're not together. How fucking awkward. I wish I could help them out, but he's hard headed as hell. So she's into wearing new clothes like long sleeved blouses and skirts to her knees. And she goes straight home after work and school. And she goes to church for hours on Sunday. And she forbids him from going out late at night. Sounds like my kinda woman. Sort of. Moving right along: she covers up when they're in the sack. They're both hurting incredibly. And I'm here airing out their fucking business. But seriously, I warned him that he's not going to win this "argument." I told him to just spend an hour with her on Sunday in church to let her know that he at least is willing to try. He obstinately refuses. So, my dude, if you can't even put your small toe forward, stop with all the acting and move on. My advice.

Today I'm feeling:

sage-like.

The soothsayer of smooth players.

Go thither!

Real word, man. "Go thither." So, after you say "come hither" in your sexiest possible voice, and you get that freak in your clutches, you instruct them to "go thither," maybe into the kitchen for some edibles, or you'll say "don't go thither" if you need their warmth for the night.

Pay me the littlest of mind. I'm really just talking that shit now.

Smif N Wesson. I could usually count on them to provide that real, head knocker, hip-hop in its prime, grungiest of grungy, something I could smoke to music. So when I heard their latest was dropping, I quickly ran to the discount music store to cop that. I'm seriously disappointed. Not only does it not shine, I don't shine. I'll give it another couple listens before I consider my $10.83 down the drain, but it doesn't look like a drought breaker. Shame too, their last joint, Reloaded, was cooked.

Today I'm feeling:

relevant!

Member services

Anyone else having the weirdest dreams of late? Is it just me? The weirdest shit man, sincerely.

I must be the least bored, most broke, jobless man on the planet. Ugh!

I'm canning the quotes for now. It's just repelling me from writing posts. I dread the lyric thing. I'm just going to let loose. Like I used to.

Found this amazing hole in the wall Thai restaurant in Williamsburg that I just have to review for you. It's called Khao Sarn Thai Cuisine on the south side. Not overly expensive; they've got lunch specials for $5.95. I took two of my former students (Taiwanese), Amzad and the ever so heart broken Maykin. All but one of my Taiwanese students raved and gave it 5 stars. I thought it was awesome too, though I'm partial towards Thai food. The Massaman Curry with chicken, which is what I had, was indeed remarkable. I had it spicy. We also had a salad with vegetarian duck. I thought all ducks were vegetarians, but apparently not. It was salty and Maykin said it tastes like chicken, but it wasn't bad. The ambiance and decor was cheap and bordering on tacky, but the food and service, though a smidgen slow, made up for it. I give it a 'highly recommended' rating.

Today I'm feeling:

cool

OMG

Amzad at the pumpkin patch/apple farm

Oh, my, gosh! I love Leila Vine. And... she's going to be on NPR 'pon the 'morrow! That's 10/17/2007 for all of yous who aren't in the know. That's for you fellow New Yorkers. It's 7am. Set your alarm clocks. Don't be lummoxes!

"father forgive me for my sins/
but I'm a raise hell to the bitter end/
I'm a soldier boy"
Billy Danz of M.O.P. on Ready for war by Busta Rhymes

Today I'm feeling:

the usual

Land...

What helps offset a Monday Night Football game interrupted by such garbage as The Hills and The Weeds or Heroes or what ever crap that was last night is the $2.46 per gallon rate I got at the pump in New Jersey. I hear fuel is fast approaching $100 per barrel. Once it crests that mark, I doubt it'll get any lower. It sucks to own a gasoline powered car.

I got a new primary care provider. This person is a D.O.. I once worked, extensively with (though it was more like for) a D.O.. They're certainly different creatures. Certainly. But it may be worthwhile to pay my new doc a visit.

Moammar Ghadafi, the big wig in Libya, is a titillating topic. His country will be inducted into the United Nations Security Council in January. Personally, I see Ghadafi as a better leader than the current crop here in the U.S.. Include, too, the bunch in the running for 2008 and Ghadafi looks really good.

And Carol Costello. What a hot chick. I've loved her ever since she anchored CNN's early morning newscasts a few months ago, but recently she did a piece on Crosby and Nash's protesting the war in Iraq. She is so beautiful for a woman her age. For a woman any age, actually. I wonder who does her hair? And her piece was good. The point of the piece, essentially, is that the Bush administration has alienated people against Bush or his war by labeling them as being something other than patriotic. In other words, it's un-American to see things any other way. And that blows.

"As far as Jack can figure it-and God knows he's given this plenty of thought-these people are rarely required to adapt in the environment that breeds them. If something breaks down, they call someone to fix it. Something goes wrong, and there's someone who will come make it right: a repairman, a doctor, a lawyer. The culture that's developed in America and societies like it, says Jack, breeds dependency, liability, blame. He hates to say it, but the safer you make a society, the softer the people become."
Michael D'Orso speaking of the Hotel Galápagos' manager Jack Nelson in Plundering paradise: The hand of man on the Galápagos Islands.

Today I'm feeling:

jacked up

Schpielberg

Just got back from a day in the field. I mean, since that's what I'm calling it. It's so funny. I met up with a couple trying to get this game of ultimate frisbee going. And the woman asks me what I do. And I give her my schpiel about how I'm an artist, but the type that creates art she'd never understand. She took me seriously. Even after I explained that I'm not really an artist. Even after I told her that I sometimes teach English.. I should have ran with it. Then told her my story of how I once saved 13 kittens from a burning building in Toledo. Or was it Wheeling? Like I'd know, it never really happened.

So that's what I've decided to do. Invent scenarios that paint me more ambitiously and fascinatingly.

In the end, we didn't get to play much frisbee. Moral of the story, if you're going to lie about who you are, make it interesting. Make it interesting.

"Love is like cheese, it stinks."
Something I thought about saying to Maykin, until I thought better of it.

Today I'm feeling:

good like you wouldn't understand

Great timing. I think things are much worse than they seem. Things around me, of late, are wrought with such good timing. I can't complain... for the immediate future. Wouldn't mind getting my car fixed though.

Shot love

Contrasts

My dawg Maykin has been restless for the past couple weeks. Every weekend he'd come down to Brooklyn from his homestead in Washington Heights, and want us to hang out. That's cool, because I had a low Maykin diet for maybe the last year or so. Maybe even longer. 2 years and change, actually. We were close. Not close as your left and right leg, but close nonetheless. So, I should have read the writings on the wall. I was busy just writing in my blog and dealing with my own plethora of contemplatables. But all the while, Maykin was stewing. His now regular friendship was unnoticed. And it culminated a couple days prior when he told me he and his fiancé had called it quits. I'm sure this isn't the first time they'd broken up. But this time is peculiar, particularly because of Maykin's actions. Only, I needed to see them in hindsight to notice how peculiar his actions actually were. See that? I'm trying a little alliteration. Haven't quite mastered it, but I'm gungho about giving it a go. Back to Maykin and Bernice. They've been in one another's pocket for 4 years and it's bit sharp when he just told me she's not listening to him even though he tried to get back on her good side. I'm wondering what was going on these previous weeks where'd he'd come by and want to chill. Where's his mind? What happened? What's happening? They lived together, in her mom's apartment. I know it's a real deal break up because he's moving out. Now the brain gears are churning. Was Bernice and her mom just tired of Maykin? He's in school, and trying hard to make something of himself. That and he works full time. He's also on the verge of landing a gig on the police force. Did they really think he took to long to situate his "family"? Or was it something else? Maykin tells me she decided to become Christian now and doesn't want Maykin to hang out at clubs or do this and that, as he puts it. I'm trying to fill in the blanks here. I know too well how these things fall apart but I'm too far removed from it this time. I've walked into the sunset.

So Maykin's birthday was yesterday. He was supposed to call me and we were going to go to a strip club or some shit like that. Now I'm really not a fan of giving women my money like that (or like anyway for that matter unless a bitch is having a birthday or it's Christmas or some shit), so I'm glad he didn't call. But he called today asking to drink and play pool. Like I've got a job or work in the morning, and I can only imagine how fucked up his head might be, but like the vast majority of wishy washy friends in my circle, he said he'd call me back and I'm not counting on him. What I'm prepared to do, however, is get to the bottom of this (if he does call). Then I've got to console the bro. 'Cause bros need TLC too.

"Always I'm in some shit/
my abdomen's my clip, the barrel's my dick/
uncircumsized, pull my skin back and cock me/
I bust of when they unlock me/
results of what happens to niggas shock me..."
Nas on I gave you power

Today I'm feeling:

Contemplative

Air Gut

Met with Su again yesterday. This while it rained cats and dogs. She remembered the high school cafe barista and suggested that I go back to see her and give her my phone number. Su even remembered her name! It was the first thing she said to me. Was this on her mind for that past few days? I couldn't believe it. Apparently, she's never seen Chris Hanson's How to catch a predator series. But seriously, I didn't even have the chick on my mind since I wrote up that blog post. I was actually looking forward to meeting a lesbian, with short, highlighted hair, coveralls, Converse and freckles. Maybe she could be like my lesbian friend. I was probably more thinking about the fat butt white chick I saw twice the other day around Union Square. I was thinking about every chick but this high schooler. Is it really that bad that my tutee recommends I continue to hit on high schoolers. I have to laugh at myself for that one.

And I missed another one. Glorious. It rained so fucking hard for Brooklyn; this was seriously abnormal. The rain pounded the streets so quickly, the place seemed like it was suffering a flash flood. So as I was driving, the streets turned gray with turbulent water, splashing and kicking around like violence itself. And the scene was beautiful. A hard fall rain, with cute girls in galoshes and people in short sleeves clutching umbrellas. The gray seemed to rise 3 or 4 feet off the ground. It's hard to describe, but leaving my camera at home is really costing me some opportunities here. It was a moment to savor.

" "So, what do you do for a living?" asked the Infinite Spirit.
"Well," answered the Cemetery Girl, "I lie to myself and suffer." "
This on some art-o-matic machine at the Whitney Museum.

I don't know what the fuck it means, but it was off beat and I had to capture it.

Today I'm feeling:

gassy

Foibles

Nike advertising on the subway

So October 9th was John Lennon's birthday. I spent the day imagining. Actually, the great Snoop Dogg also put together a great track featuring Dr. Dre and D'Angelo, also called Imagine.

Freckles, everyday becoming more and more feckless, told me that Sweden is the third most musical country in the world. Though I don't believe that "musical" is quantifiable, I did get a kick out of her trying to defend that it (Sweden) is.

Ooooh, and today I missed a masterpiece!!! It would have been my BEST photo yet. So exciting. I enjoyed the image. Probably even more than I would have if I had my camera with me. I wasn't focusing on capturing it on an SD card. Instead, I burned it into my memory. It was of the Empire State Building, from the vantage point of 21st Street and 5th Avenue. This was a little later than a quarter pass 7 in the pm. The building was shrouded in fog. The top of it was lit a smoky fluorescent. Following its silhouette down about a score stories, it had a more incandescent hue. In the foreground, a street lamp exuded a very contrasting, London drear-esque warmth. Contrary to have a dreary image impart warmth, I know, but you had to be there. It was altogether enchanting.

"Music is like magic/
there's a certain feeling you get/
when you real and you spit and people are feeling your shit/
this is your moment and every single minute you spin/
trying to hold on to it 'cause you may never get it again/
so while you're in it, try to get as much shit as you can/
and when your run is over just admit when it's at its end"
Eminem on 'Til I collapse

Today I'm feeling:

like nothing's bothering me

This is why I'm not!

Most fun? Creating an Ahmedinijad profile on JDate.
Least fun? Having your friend crash your motherfucking car!!!!

Yes folks. That's what I'm up to now. Having to price and find the cheapest shoddiest body work for my car. Never, ever, ever allow someone who continue to insist on driving your car... drive your car. Not mad though. Only wiser. Only wiser.

"'cause like the news, everyday you get pressed"
Amy Winehouse on Fuck me pumps

Today I'm feeling:

impressed, very impressed

Chicha

I just peeped my boy G-Dub getting it in!

I just saw on CNN that bad breath is a symptom of tonsillitis.

Alright, so on Wednesday I caught an episode of my dudette Sarah Silverman. This bitch rocks as evidenced by the fucking hard on I caught when she first stepped on screen. Damn, did I just admit that? Pit i ful. Fuck it. It's true. I think I want to date a lesbian with highlighted cropped hair, who wears coveralls and Converse. My dream broad.

"Come into this world alone/
leave this world alone"
Steele of Smiff n Wesson on Dry Snitch

I've quoted that lyric before but it's worth repeating.

Also, I just heard this track by Kanye West talking about his "big brother" who was B.I.G.'s brother. Plain awesomeness.

Today I'm feeling:

pretty slick

I spoke to a chick with freckles. It's going to be my new fetish. I'm going berserk here.

D.I.L.F.

So I was again in DUMBO to tutor Su. Actually, I had another appointment to tutor my other tutee an hour earlier. She had train troubles and had to cancel. But at this café, I saw the sweetest, most beautiful thing. She was so adorable and I had to talk to her. So, I waited until the café was closing up and went to the counter (she's the counter girl) and asked if they were closed (duh). She asked what I wanted, I'm assuming they might have had a pastry lying around or some coffee left. And I told her I actually just wanted an excuse to get her name. And the oddest thing happened. She blushed and laughed and smiled and smiled. And I was like, "is she for real?" all puzzled and shit. I should have known. By this time, Su had long shown and had encouraged me to go talk to her. Without Su, I doubt I would have said anything. Really. I swear it. So boom, trying desperately to not make a fool of myself I proceed to talk. I ask her how often she's there and does she go to school only to find out she does! Man, I almost asked her what school she goes to when something told me to ask her if she goes to college. Little Ms. Hottie goes to high school. Insert sad face here. I took wings and flew away, almost asap! I did tell her that she's the sweetest thing though.

So, the consequence? Well, first, Su did say, afterwards, that she had the feeling Ms. Sweetest Thing Hottie was too young. I was a smidge perturbed she didn't express this feeling earlier. But also, I realized an older woman wouldn't have been as intrigued or delighted by my come on. It was honest, I really did just want to talk to her and get her name. And I really did think she is the sweetest thing. But had I felt the same of a woman more my age, the response would have been no where near the gratuitous one I received from Ms. Sweetest Thing. Oy Vey. So what am I to conclude? I missed the boat. I'm old; almost thirty. Don't have a job either. Don't have too much of a future. Ain't really got any talents. And the women my age don't take me seriously. I missed the boat. Ah well. I guess I should see it as their loss.

Maybe I'll hit the lotto. Then I'll hang out outside a high school and pick me up a woman?

I'm being facetious.

"I heard you fags wanna catch me off guard, put tefs in my heart/
the death of Escobar under your breath, whispers in the dark/
I hear 'cause the street ain't loyal to choose sides/
prepare for the beef, whoever lose dies/
rich and I'm thuggin', I can't trust nothing/
this bitch that I'm fucking, this clip that I'm busting/
could jam in my fist, look at my hand/
finger pussy, walk, spend some rings, cut coke cookies/
wrote poetry and broke noses B..."
Nas on B Ez by Capone and Noreaga

One of the most underrated rap verses ever.

Today I'm feeling:

prime

Though I'm probably pass it.