Shortimerz Syndrome

My time here in the Aloha State is on the decline. It's almost May which to me is synonymous with Mainland. I'm looking forward to another summer of crazy parties, music festivals and bicycles. Fingers crossed.

The other day I got to venture to the Big Island... but that was literally the other DAY. Yup, we (myself and a couple workmates) were there for a little less than 48 hours. It sucked everything out of my meager bank account BUT we got to buy papayas at 4 for $1, stay in the hippie enclave of Pahoa where Ning's cooked up the best Thai food I've ever had the pleasure of savoring, met all sorts of Big Island crazies AND swam in a warm spring (a tidal pool/hot spring). The Big Island is the best thing to happen to Hawaii in about 300,000 years.

And like that I'm back on Oahu inhaling red dirt and overspending on Newman O's and trinkets. And every time I watch that sun set I get to itching for the day I hop on the plane and retire from island life. That's not to say that the Big Island is not in my future. There was at least one bar in Hilo with an actual sign of life there. Go figure. Go 'head fool, compute!!

Phantom II (Soulwax Remix 2) by Justice is PUMPING in my earbuds. I'm seeing triple at Bonnaroo as I write this. Thomas Mars just crowd surfed by me again. He's got a tiny pimple on his chin. And barely any facial hair. It's over. I'm driving up north for Osheaga! Crap, it's over. That's okay, I've got Rifflandia 3!! Summer, you must really miss me.

Random randomnositude: My most recent school group at camp, an all-girl 5th grade class that included Dwayne "Dog the Bounty Hunter" Chapman's daughter, had students named Sunshine and Liberty. Is the pakalolo making a come back?

And I sunburned the right side of my belly a couple days ago. Just the right side of just my belly.

Void

...

"All eyes are on me now."
Tegan and Sara on Floorplan

Reminds me of Tupac as well.

Been watching a little more television than usually, lately. So you know that shit eats your eyeballs and chews 'em like gum? Your brain doesn't fare much better.

Today I'm feeling:

luke cold

Bonus quote!

"Maybe I would have been something you'd be good at. Maybe you would have been something I'd be good at."
Tegan and Sara on Call it off

"I just want back in your head"

The gang's all queer

No offense to anyone in the photo...

It was cool being around a bunch of women, all of whom didn't rock any make-up and where pretty gritty: hiking and shit. Nah, they weren't all hardcore, but a couple were. It's like opening up a photo album and saying the first thing that comes to mind. So I just randomly uploaded this photo, and wrote the first things that came to mind, while this song was playing:

"...remember when I was so strange and likable?/
I just want back in your head/
I just want back in your head/
I'm not unfaithful but I stray/
when I get a little scared..."
Tegan and Sara on Back in your head

Today I'm feeling:

unleveled

Sunday shakedown

Wow, is this what I asked for? I've got work Monday morning, which means I need to prepare a lesson plan. I've also got the world's grandest headache and a mental block bigger than the Berlin Wall. It's big enough for border security. I should sell it to Customs.

Happy Fathers' Day Larry Birkhead! You da man, however Clay Aiken-ish you are.

I might have to go on a Baskin Robbins' pistachio almond hand packed pint run in a bit, however, what with alternate side of the street parking, I'd lose my prime parking spot. The woes of a lazy, pointless, aimless, useless mofo.

Went to a streetball tournament today in Fort Greene. You know, I have to ask, where are people's brains. The guy who runs the team said they'd be short players because of Fathers' Day. First of all, Fathers' Day is really a day for people who do more than make a deposit at their local loose cervix. Not to say that everyone on this team is a remote pops. But c'mon, enough of them, I'm sure could come out to play some streetball. So, off the bat, you've got to question the resolve of this team. Anyways, so we start to scoop up people in the park to fill out the roster for the day so we could at least get the run in and... NO! Forfeit. Because the jerk running the team decides he'd rather pay the officials and take the loss than at least playing. I was frustrated because it must have been 100 on the black top, and the leagues seem wholly unorganized. Game time was scheduled to be 3pm, and the league director doesn't show up until 3. Then the guy fixing the net takes 30 minutes to put up two nets. Ridiculous. Peoples' brain are vacating this early in the summer. It sure doesn't look good.

"...bitch, know my forte, I'm not for play/
get your block, let the Gloch 4 play/
finger fucking the trigger, it's not foreplay/
one more time, I'm not for play..."
Beanie Sigel on Man's World

Today I'm feeling:

Like a boy amongst infants

No, no my head is throbbing. Ouch!

101

You know how some people have bad days? I'm having a bad lifetime.

Don't get me wrong, I love the subway. It's part of the reason why New York City can be so amazing. I just hate the people who work in the subway. And no, I'm not talking about the subway performers or the people who bust theirs to keep it clean. I hate the indignant people with any kind of authority or power in the subway whose job it is to make you a miserable automaton; the police and token booth clerks, being prime examples. I've run across a miserable token booth clerk who really took the cake in Toronto a couple years back. For that experience alone I'll try and fix things so I'll never be back to that crap hole of a city. So I can imagine the impression our token booth clerks give to visitors of New York. I'm telling you, they are the worst.

So there was a system wide issue that made it so that none of the Metrocard vending machines in the city could take credit or debit cards. I had no cash and the token booths just don't accept credit or debit either. So I was shit out of luck and my whole day was fouled up. You'd figure the token booth clerks would have enough compassion and let a broke man without a shred of cash through. Instead they insisted I look for a cash advance or some dumb shit, which would cost me more than a ride on the subway, to get some fucking cash. How crass? I asked two separate clerks in the subways stations I visited, and they both thought helping me was below them. But I remember who they are, what they look like and their disposition. Not that I know they'll get what's coming to them, but if I'm ever in a position to help these two individuals, they'll get reminded of this cruel misdeed of theirs.

Not likely to happen, I know. But this is a grudge I'm keen on holding.

"...and I know I shouldn't be drinking on an empty stomach/
but the flyer said open bar, I said 'fuck it'..."
M1 of Dead Prez on Fucked up

Today I'm feeling:

Like I've got a bone to pick

Fuck a meanie!

Yo, yo!

Su all up in ya grill piece, while Sean wheels and deals

Okay, obviously I'm loving being behind a camera right now. But I recently asked myself:

"Man, what an amazing invention the camera is! Suppose it was never invented? And what are some other amazing inventions that allow for some amazing experiences?"

I came up with two which I feel are boons to man's existence. The first being the paper towel. In the "first world," we live good, don't we? One reason why we do so well, stay so healthy, get so fat is probably because we're more likely to avoid infection and disease. Am I right? And I think that one of the single most important allies to the fight against infirmity would happen to be the disposable paper towel. What do we use to wipe off that salmonella sitting on the counter top after seasoning the chicken for Sunday dinner? How about the implement used to wipe out that filthy mess you made while eating the cooked chicken at the dining table? C'mon people, don't take that Bounty for granted. Appreciate it. Don't waste it! Stay clean, stay healthy.

And then we have the black board! What a novel concept, right? Only, don't we take its invention for granted too? It's the most basic teaching aid that most of us learned off of many years ago. It facilitated class discussions to no end. Think about it, when teachers use overhead projection slides, and PowerPoint presentations, how much room does a teacher have to interact with his/her students? The teacher can't erase and show another, impromptu, example, for instance. Your teacher's visuals had a lot less color, but the interaction was certainly more malleable and conducive to learning. Also, with the blackboard, the teacher was teaching from the start instead of taking material already prepared and just reciting information. The info, via the blackboard, is presented at a more natural pace. It takes time for the teacher to write out everything and with that, the students are absorbing, if even vicariously. Students could actually come up to the blackboard and complete exercises. Can you do that on a new fancy projector. It only makes teaching lazy. If you ask me, this new shit is taking the teach out of teacher. I'm glad I was raised off chalk dust. When I got to college and saw all this fucking equipment in front of me, I got bored and my mind was no longer in the class. The teachers all appeared boring. Their lessons, though way more structured, lacked interaction. I have strong opinions in favor of the blackboard, let me tell you. In fact, I think I may have already done so.

Long live the blackboard dinosaur, cameras, and paper towels.

"...now the police/
got me in the middle of the streets/
tryin' to beat me blue, black and orange/
I'm like 'hold up, who you smackin' on?/
I'm only tryin' to eat what you snackin' on'"
Jay-Z on Hell Yeah remix by Dead Prez

Today I'm feeling:

sanguine

Tell me you don't have a better appreciation for the blackboard today than you did yesterday!

Mired in meager misery

It seems my life has gone trotters up. But, I've been contacted to substitute teach this Friday. It won't be fun, but I'll know what it is to have a pay check again, however meager.

The irony of life. I was comfortable in the ignorance of not knowing how much better things have gotten. Sorry for being so vague here. But, now that I learn how new and improved the new and improved has become, I feel spited.

"at your wake as I peek in/
look in your casket, feeling sarcastic/
'look at him, still sleeping'"
Jay Z on 22 2's

Today I'm feeling:

spited

But we all die in the end, don't we?

Seen that scene before it seems

My old ass is in trouble. Trouble, trouble, trouble! Played my second game of the week last night and my knee is in pain. Pain, pain, pain! Ouch. I've got 'till 8:30pm Thursday to take care of myself in time for my third game. I'll likely just have to man up and battle through the ouches.

Now this is what I'm talking about. Inevitably, friendships always take themselves to the next level by way of the massage. When either friend start asking for rub downs, it's time to start thinking about each other in a whole new light. I don't know where KFC really wants to go with this, but so far she's asked me to tell her a bed time story, blow her a kiss, and give her a massage. That's not a just friends sort of deal... as far as I'm concerned. Not that I really appreciate conversing with her to that. My 4 hour long talks with the Quasi Buddhist from late April were ten times more exhilarating (though, after the second one, they quickly went to shit). I can't complain. Having someone to talk to at night sure takes the edge off of being a-fucking-live. But I'm going to have to flip on her if I hear one more diatribe on how awful her ex was!

Still got on this stinky ass shirt. And you know what? I'm not taking it off, nor washing. Fuck it.

"...y'all don't do much but drink 40s, look dumb on the block/
damn near 40, still running from cops..."
Beanie Sigel on I don't do much

Today I feel:

geriatric

Really, it's a good time now to call my woman friend that is for massaging my back after basketball games. I guess I could reciprocate by listening to her sensitive talking on the phone or something. In that way, she'd be a specialized friend, just like all my men friends. But first, I'd have to meet said specialized woman friend.

Liasons with the inside of my head

I knew there was something more to that Mazda of mine!

Damn! I'm getting phone calls and shit from every direction. No one I actually care to speak with, mind you. John is calling my ass again! Only, this time he wizened up and agreed to trek out to Brooklyn. Pimpin' my man, pimpin'! Not like the ladies are going to treat us any better, but I'm fond of the Brooklyn bar scene. And by night's end, John will be too.

Then the funniest thing happened on the train ride home just a moment ago. This girl who braided my hair this one time when I met her in KFC (she worked there, and always hooked me up!) back when my hair was braidable was on the J with me. Hoobaloo, was she ever hot! A total freakin' hottie! But, she introduced me to her sister-in-law, so I'll just assume that she's spoken for. But I couldn't keep from smiling, so happy to see her for some reason or another. We never did anything outside of me buying fried chicken from her or some hair braiding services. But we were cool peoples (and deep down, probably a little attracted to one another). Cool peoples!

WTF?!? I think I actually like the Feist album now. I don't know if I want to go buy it yet... but it's endearing itself to me. Over time. You know.

Today I'm feeling:

cheesy!

What you lookin' at?

Fail to plan to fail

It's Natalie!!! I hope she doesn't mind.

Yes, I'm going to vote for him. Even if I have to write him in. I don't agree with everything Ron Paul is for (most notably his pro life stance and his border security issues) but he's certainly the most competent in most regards of American life. I'm no republican either, but a good leader is a good leader and the fact of the matter is that I'm no democrat either.

No plans in life. I'm such a loser. Here's my new take on things. I'm just going to continue to meet people and be wide eyed. Hopefully, I'll learn, see, observe, be inspired, or absorb an idea, occupation, profession or career of some sort whereby I can subsist. It's a Spartan task, I know, but there's got to be something out there I can effectively do... outside of blogging (though I'm sure I'm no Rembrandt at this either).

Today I'm feeling:

positively subordinate

Go figure.

'Caste' out the heavens

I hit a new moon bonfire yesterday. Fun thing it was. Just staring into a 10' diameter fire is almost awe inspiring. Besides the requisite 'whole state of Florida being on fire' jokes, the ambiance was pretty comradely. Maybe comradely isn't the right adjective...

So the lady who did the bonfiring brought up a pretty ubiquitous point. My writing is terribly shitty today, I can't find the right word for anything. When I say 'ubiquitous' I mean it is an understood point by nearly everyone in society. Our society. That point being that we live in a caste system. Our keeping up with the Joneses mentality is what divides us into our individual castes. Apparently, if you make 100K per annum, you've got to live in a home and drive a car that reflects that. And if you make 500K a year, you've got to have a property, and several cars to reflect that. So they've outlawed the caste system in India, but it's symbolically still in place in many regards, no? Well, it's here in this capitalist society as well.

Nah, I ain't trying to get deep or anything, nahmean? But I'm sayin' is all.

It was difficult stuff too. Some of the people in attendance were pretty loopy and you had to wonder what the fuck is wrong with these people? But it takes all types to make it a world I hear and so I decided to see if I couldn't learn anything. I'm so selfish! I learned good people surround themselves with good. I think I already knew that, but I must've relearned it. No?

Today I'm feeling:

remorse

I miss something. Yo, comment! I haven't seen shit from you so called readers in days and I've had close to a hundred hits in the past 4 days. What the fuck?

Lather, rinse, repeat

"I burn like the perm on the Mac"
Phat Kat on Nasty ain't it, also the state of Florida

What is it about paths? If you've been looking at my photography, you may have noticed I have an affinity to paths. I guess they inspire dreaming. Like, where does that path lead? And my paths never show you where they go, it's all open to interpretation. In your mind, one of "my" paths can take you anywhere you want it to. Maybe that'll be my signature. Hmmmm...

In the ghetto! This is why I love Snoop Dogg.

Okay, random thought! I want to buy a lollipop. Strawberry flavored. The Charms Blowpop in strawberry, to be exact.


And Ron Paul, a G.O.P. candidate for president. This man is my hero and the first republican in a while I'm actually a believer in. At last night's republican debate, the man essentially argued that the terrorist attacks of 9/11 were a result of U.S. policies abroad. I've been saying this shit since 9/12. Rudy, however, argued the man down to great applause from the inflamed, ignorant, American audience. But such is life for Americans... they can do no wrong (sharp biting sarcasm).

Today I'm feeling:

wingless

Maybe I need another Redbull 'cause the Coronas aren't helping.

Department of Purple

Purple couch here

Most people don't care too much for purple decor, but I thought this very long purple couch was just stunning. And cozy looking too.

Alright, still is an absolutely splendid album. I might even continue my other blog by rating this masterpiece. Lily is so good. It's absolutely music the way it was meant to be heard. The Brits are fucking coming! Amy Winehouse is almost as good. And Lady Sovereign?! Forget it!! The Brits failed with their Cockney slang, doilies and lack luster counterpart to rap (grime), but their female contemporary musicians have something. Big up!

I think Friday evening might find me at the Asia Society. Such a loser. At 27 on a Friday evening I should have some bread in my pocket trying to bag some broads at trendy clubs contracting my fair share of gonorrhea and syphilis. Instead I go to museums on their free nights and blog. It never burns when I pee. I don't have any bumps (though I don't exactly want bumps). And I don't have a long list of chicks I knocked off (or up). I gotta go now; watch me some cartoons, sharpen my crayons and color or something.

Today I'm feeling:

short in the tooth

Like I've only just got on the block instead of being around the motherfucker

Boy, oh boy

Now I don't know too much about this thing here called life, but it dawned on me not too long ago that a lot of it has to do with boys. Go figure. Let me explain. It seems, when you think about it, that everyone is after boys. Read the missed connections in the personals section on Craigslist. Maybe 75% of the posts are people trying to track down boys.

Sound odd? Think about it. First, there are the girls who like boys. They make up the vast majority of boy chasers. Then, there is a growing group of potential boy suitors. That group being boys. Yes, boys who like boys. Not all that much of an abstract idea, is it? Okay, then we have the girls who like girls who look like boys. A niche group, yes, but not exactly a big aberration. Of course you also have the clergy members who take a peculiar liking to boys. I group them with the folks over at NAMBLA. And lastly, the group that scares me the most, are the boys who like girls who look like boys. Now, I'm a man who certainly goes for a nice young chick with a crop cut and some flats, but I stop long before tattoos, muscles, and fitted caps. The rest of us go for girls! Just plain, cute to sexy women folk.

So, what is it? What's the lure of boys? I used to be one. They tend to grow into men. Hair grows in places we find unpleasant, and it stops growing in places we feel it should continue. We wear scowls and curse like drunken sailors. And we fancy libations. Very few people take a fancying to men. Though it's true, we do age like fine wine. I tend to think of myself as a cheap Malbec. But still, wine is fine just so long as it gets you to wobble after enough of it. Right?

So folks across the world, lay off the boys. You fucking pervs and pedophiles.

Today I'm feeling:

Like the kettle who got called black by the pot.

And I'm proud, I quickly replied!

Sorry I made no mention of Mother's Day yesterday. It appears that Mother's Day isn't one of the holidays we celebrate with beer, wine, vodka, rum, whiskey, or champagne. So I found it to not be worthy of mention. Plus, mothers rarely take "walks" to the store for a pack of cigarettes. There's no lore to the mother. A good blog post does not a fine mother make.

The swigs make it so easy to go uphill

Talk about trees that grow in Brooklyn! One of the most amazing things I've come across in my life is this story of a tree growing in the Ténéré. Read about it, and see a photo of it, here. This, in and of itself, is a post!

But alas, I want to add some old news to the fracas that is LuxembourgLand. Al Sharpton. Granted, I was 7 in '87, back when Tawana Brawley claimed, and later admitted it to be false, that she was raped by a bunch of Whiteys. Apparently, Al Sharpton took up her cause and never backed down even when the case turned against Ms. Brawley.

Fast forward to the 2000's sometime. The U.S. Navy was using the island off Puerto Rico, a U.S. territory, as a bombing test ground or for some other atrocious misuse. The island in question, Vieques, was also inhabited by human beings. In 2002 or 2003, the good reverend took up this cause and managed to get arrested. This before his political ruminations and presidential aspirations. The incident may have even happened in 2001 for all I know. Still, it made me a believer in Al. I even voted for him instead of Kerry or Bush. There was no way you could get me off the Al bandwagon. That act alone served to be completely devoid, in my mind, of self interest. It was a completely benevolent and altruistic act. It was, in part, because of Rev. Sharpton's actions that the U.S. Navy departed Vieques in 2003.

Fast forward yet again, and Rev. Al managed to screw everything up by almost single handedly getting a provocative radio DJ fired. The violation? No, his victim, Mr. Imus, didn't persecute anyone. He simply did his job, in free expression, without profanity. In fact, the FCC, which governs on-air violations, hadn't even initialised an investigation into the matter. In this, a heavily capitalistic, nation no one even waited for the dollar to talk. Instead of letting the market decide if Don stays or not, the networks were bullied by Al into firing Imus. And for that, I now know that Al isn't for free expression and freedom. Al is for a shock value all his own. Al has created an image. And people are buying into it. Al is for censorship. The off the cuff remarks and color commentary that we'll never have the pleasure of hearing. It's a shame. To hell with creativity, right?

They should have kept the man in prison.

My opinion.

Care to retort?

I wrote this on 4 beers at 6:08am after not having slept. Sorry if my argument isn't as solid as the Guinness would have it seem.

Today I'm feeling:

the rancor of the sun's piercing piss hue on my bloodshot, alcohol infused eyeballs

Yeah. Sometimes it feels good to not give a fuck.

I got that weed

I have no clue where to keep this thing

What the fuck is up with Amy Winehouse's voice? That bitch can blow! And the thing is, homegirl looks like a pack-a-day smoker, where does she get the lungs?

Made my first run of the season to Dairy Queen last night. It was full of fatties in line. How cute, I thought. How cute.

Today seems ripe for the Whitney. I've been promising myself the trip for a while. It's finally going to happen. Maybe I can convince mother to roll.

Overheard at Dairy Queen:
Man 1: Your baby looks like a dog.
Mother of "baby": Ahahahah!

Today I'm feeling:

lethargic

I don't suppose I'm eating right. What's up?

Dae han min gook!

Inside the Solomon R.

Guess who's tutoring a new Korean today? I guess I'm not only big in Japan, I must be big in the big rabbit too.

Good feelings! Physically, I played three basketball games since Thursday and a year ago I would have been too sore right about now. Today I could play another three back to back to back. It feels good to be in decent shape.

Bad feelings! Emotionally, something's missing.

Yet another striking contrast.

And what's going on in Northern Ireland? Is that peace? I've known, for some time now, that the Irish were world class bomb makers. Will they now be freelance bomb makers or will they just give the trade up? Peace is such a distraction!

Simple pleasure of the day: home ground Caffé Verona decaf coffee, brewed in my french press. Delicious.

Today I'm feeling:

like I could go for some acupuncture

And today, I can't put my finger on it, but there's something about today.

Cinco de Mayo!

Antique style... 'cause I love this one that much

"I don't follow any guidelines 'cause too many niggas ride mine/
so I change styles every two rhymes."
Jay-Z on 22 2's

Now, off to find me some Corona and tequila! Olé!

Today I'm feeling:

a little too sober

I know I shouldn't hit the bottle this early... but it ain't that early! You know?

Cuatro de Mayo

Fort Tryon Park foliage

Busy day. Clean, tidy, repeat. The room looks bright and lovely.

Patience is a virtue
Anonymous

When you rush me you get weak ass posts like this one. Bloggin' ain't a science or anything but it does take some care as to make sure there's at least something to entertain you all for 30 seconds. I try.

Get this! My friend from Kansas picked me up a tumbleweed while she was in New Mexico! Then, she shipped it from the Big Sunflower to the Big Apple to yours truly! It's sitting right here in my freshly painted room! Pimpin'!! Pictures, presumably, are to follow.

Be cool.
anonymous

Today I'm feeling:

productive

Say something... before something says you.

Sometimes...

A breezy day at Central Park, NYC in early April

Good timing leads to encounters with good people. The right people at the right time.
Sean Luxembourg, April 2007

So Wednesday night found me at Pete's Candy Store in Williamsburg, Brooklyn for their weekly "quizz off." Insanely hard questions for the insanely geeky types. A good time was had by all. I'll undoubtedly be back if I find a quizz off partner to come with!

Been brushing up on my "come hither" voice lately too. I've been told it's pretty good. But I'm not bragging. All I've got to say is "come hither."

Overheard at McDonald's:
Little boy 1: "I wish we were girls."
Little boy 2: "Ill! Girls are nasty!!"

I love girls. The petite feminine ones in particular. They wear the cutest tiny clothes. Next to mine I feel gargantuan. I can't believe my shoes are that big next to hers! Wow, my hand dwarfs hers (yet somehow they fit so perfectly together, her hand and mine). I think I prefer an adorable girl to a sexy girl. Sexy girls have an air of superiority about them that competes with my fucking ego. You dumb bitch, you're okay but no one cares that you're hot. Adorable girls tend to be understated. You dumb bitch... awe, how could I ever be mad at you? Of course I like your crop cut. It suits you so.

We told you I'm not schizophrenic.

Today I'm feeling:

placated

And today you're going to comment on how you're feeling.