Thursday, February 12, 2009



Okay, I'll admit it...I take immense pleasure out of catching people in awkward or embarrassing moments. I know...it's kind of mean spirited. But having had sooo many myself, I can always immediately empathize with the sufferer, and if I happen to catch some eye contact, I always give them that understanding "I've totally been there man" look.

One of my favorite acts to witness is a little something that I like to call "the sidewalk stumbler". These are the people, usually men, that you see tripping over their own feet while strutting their hardest mean walk down the street. I have seen this happen so many times, that I can usually predict how the victim will recover from the stumble, even before he makes his very calculated decision. But today I saw a phenomenon unlike any other...

Usually the stumbler is going to do one of two things...there's the "trip and jog", where the victim will stumble over his own foot and will immediately break into a light jog, as if he decided in that very moment that he really needed to increase his cardiovascular fitness. And then there's the "trip and terror", where the victim will lose his footing, and a look of sheer terror will creep across his face, as if he has just been subjected to an unimaginable atrocity. He will then look around to see who else saw the stumble with a frightfully perplexed look on his face .

Today, however, was a real treat. The stumbler, a young thugged-out man dressed in oversized clothing...stumbled on the sidewalk, teetered backwards as if he may fall, lifted his knee, and brought his Timberland encapsulated foot to the ground with a smack. He then proceeded to break into a variation of a stomp dance. The "dance" even had lyrics to go along with it, which he sang loudly as he stomped the remaining length of the block.

It was absolutely effin' brilliant.


Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Whats Love Got To Do With It??


Yesterday morning I woke up at 6am feeling very sprightly. Some mornings, when I'm feeling all sorts of well rested and content with life, I'll put my ipod on and will get ready for work while blaring music and dancing around the living room in my underwear. Yesterday was one of those mornings.

Tina Turner's "Whats Love Got To Do With It" was on, and I started to feel very VERY inspired...

Grabbing my hair brush, which also doubles as a microphone - I headed to the mirror in the living room to begin my performance. I was in the throes of belting the lyrics into the "mic", and shimmying a full body shimmy, when I looked over my shoulder and saw my landlord plus 2 of his landscape workers peering in the window behind me..laughing.

There are no words to describe the level of embarrassment felt in moments like these. These are the moments that, years later, while lying in bed trying to fall asleep, you'll think of, and the humiliation of it all will cause you to draw the covers over your head, again and again, and again.

Monday, January 26, 2009

sooo confused....

Because this is exactly how I'm feeling today.....WTF? Why are people so weird? Am I in the Twilight Zone? Is it opposite day?
Have I secretly been "jinxed"?

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Johnny-Five is Alive

On Sunday morning I woke from a delightful rest, rolled over to check what time it was on my cell phone, and saw this monstrosity staring up at me. Impressed by it's likeness to the star of Short Circuit & Short Circuit 2, I decided to snap a photo and share it with the world.

Meet Johnny-Five, the all purpose hand-held personal massager. Settings include; "whoa...weird", "I'm really starting to get itchy", and "I think I just licked a light socket". Johnny is pretty good at working out the kinks in your scapulae, but I'd caution you against using him on your special parts, as he emits a burning smell when powered on for too long.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Not so celebratory, and not such a beautiful life...

Outside of the Al-Fakhora school in Jabaliya refugee camp, Gaza." If you are not ouraged, then you're not paying attention".
Cease Fire. Now.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Take some gansta out your lean...

July 19, 2008 San Juan, Puerto Rico - "Dressed in a Yankees baseball cap and sunglasses, Pantoja was mourned by relatives while propped upright in his mother’s living room. His brother Carlos told the El Nuevo Dia newspaper the victim had long said he wanted to be upright for his own wake: “He wanted to be happy, standing.”

So this little gem of a news story came out in July of 08. Had I actually had a blog over the summer I would have written about it, in fact, it might have even been worth starting a blog over, but I was laying in corpse pose on the Baja coast for a month, so that ship sailed.

But there's no time like the present to take the opportunity to give you my opinion on the matter....so here it goes..."Hmmmmmm??" (pensive look on my face). My mind is wide open with exciting possibilities for my own wake. Chaturanga Dandasana?? Crow pose?? Or perhaps Ardha Chandrasana?

For those of you that end up outliving me...please make sure that when I go, I'm perched atop my Jade yoga mat in downward facing dog, and that my alignment is absolutely perfect.






Monday, January 12, 2009

J to the Dizzle

Homage to my friend J-Dizzle. One of the last few men left on this planet who will help you put your stiletto on, and then will proceed to buckle it for you. He's a man with an affinity for racial slurs, general tso's chicken, and Hummels (for those of you non-Italians reading this, Hummel's are small porcelain figurines depicting eastern European children. In old school Italian homes, they can often be found showcased in large glass cases, right next to the sofa that has been slip-covered in plastic. They are manufactured in Germany, and are overall pretty atrocious).

J-Dizzle is loud, unapologetic, and will call you cute pet nicknames like "cracker jack", "muffin top", or "fluffy". He knows all the words to every Babyface song ever sung, and he's not afraid to serenade you with them. He'll start your car for you when it's blustery cold, he'll brush your hair if you're sad and broken-hearted, and he'll make you a cd called "No Scrubs" featuring SWV, Mary J, TLC, Maxwell, and Color Me Badd.

He's the guy you were friends with in middle school that made you laugh so hard in math class that you peed your pants, and beat people up for calling you chubby. Only now he's in his mid-30's, but still just as fabulous.