Flash Saturday

So apparently another pillow fight broke out at Pike Place like the one in Ballard last week. Fine. Whatever. But nothing can contain the awesomeness that was the.... I really can't explain it, nor do I have any pictures of it. Tonight over in Ballard a rogue crew of cyclists with extremities, like "Rubber SLUT", two cyclists dressed as a viking ship, and once cyclist as an eye-lighted rat poking its head out of cheese rode around Dock St. and Ballard Ave. No links, yet, prove the information. Those that were taking pictures of the debacle left before they could tell me where they would be posting the collection. You saw it here first, trust in the fact that it'll be sooner than later.

I had something better and possibly more awesome to say, but it's not coming now... at all.. I'm going to bed.

Night sweetheart.

YEE HAW

OK.

Just to make sure that I don't freak anyone out for the rest of the weekend, my hoodie has been found. Turns out, one of my good friends, in his drunken stupor, stuffed my hoodie into his bag with his laptop, and upon returning to his house, found it. No problems. At least I fired one post on CL for hilarities sake. I still haven't checked the email account all replies would have went, yet.

In more awesome news, the job that I've been training at? Yeah... I'm numero uno. I just got pushed into a full time position. I got the word earlier this morning and trust me, it will stick. When I got the full time notice, I almost asked if I should re-apply. As in, I GOT THE SHIFTS I APPLIED FOR IN THE FIRST PLACE! As in, the hot chick got fired 'cause she sucked.

I gotta go to bed, since I work tomorrow morning. Or this morning. Or whatever.

I love you guys, so love my awesomeness. I'mma be busy as fuck over the next week (TEN SHIFTS IN A ROW) but I'll try to keep you updated and those that want to see me you know where I'll be at, or else fire off an IM or an email.

Like Dr. Cox said, "See me!"

Hulk-smashed.

So I was around "The Ave" yesterday after work(outta training! five days a week! this is sounding like a livejournal!) and I stopped in for a whiskey. OK, two. Fine, my real intention was to go see Rubin & Ed tonight totally hammered. Well, not that hammered but anyway... I digress. I was a whiskey and a half in when this happened.

So yesterday 3/28, mid-afteroon I stopped in to one of my favorite bars. You were there too, but for not as long as me. You saw my hoodie as you were leaving and took it with you. I'm not really to clear on why you would do that, being that: 1) anyone that woke up yesterday knew it was going to be cold and/or snowing; 1a) probably dressed for the occasion; 2) could be so damn cold-hearted and selfish on such a day; and finally 3) it was mine.

That's a portion of my craigslist post. Yeah, someone jacked my hoodie. You can see the rest of it here. Be quick though, it's going to expire in six more days, according to the site.

Oh, and here's the hoodie, I'm all thumbs when it comes to CL apparently:



History has been made.

Feline Freakout

The video is a little choppy. But it's pretty amazing... now that is a true crazy cat lady. She's feeding them like pigeons!

Pretty Much Thursday

I honestly want to keep this a relatively politics-free board, but I'd like to share this.

With that out the way, Washington is being warned of a early spring snow-fall and cold ass weather this week. Direct your attention at it's partly cloudy on April 1st giving a glimpse of sun, then goes right back to fucking usual Showers. Thanks God. Oh that's right, there's your April Fool's reminder. Don't get suckered this year.

Well at least there's Arthur. No, not the drunken playboy played by Dudley Moore, but a man referred to only as Arthur (think Bono) who cheerfully enjoys the prospect of not wearing ridiculous sport jackets.



Damn right. Thanks, Arthur.

Wait, today isn't National Victor Salva day?

Disney abets kiddie porn? I'm calling Michael Eisner. Three hours I've been up and this is the best I can come up with... "Scrubs"-style. With George of the Jungle and Dr. Cox.

Gay chicken with Cox. Awesome.



If you people have no idea who Victor Salva is... here's your money shot.

Little bit of biz page, little bit of Ball Pit

The New York Times published a little slice of awesome. Like that LCD? Haggle it down at Best Buy.

In other news.. enjoy this little tidbit of just a guy on the internet trying to get some Ball Pit.

BTW: For the people that weren't consistently around me a year and a half ago, I adopted a common phrase of Chuck E. Cheese's and transformed it a slang term for a "female that I wouldn't mind getting involved with."

As in:

"Wow, I'd be up in her ball pit 24/7."

Nowadays, most of my friends look at me funny when I say it. Like "that was so a year, three months and twenty seven days old." Go on, try it out. Rolls right off the tongue. Ball pit.

Robert Stack reminds you...

... vanity license plates are a good sign of a cannibalistic, possibly homosexual, winged rural creature.

Big thanks, Bloody-D
.

Week of dumbasses continues...

Two days ago I reported (yeah that's right, no links, just scroll down) that a idiot out in Connecticut actually got a ticket for dunking an Oreo over the speed limit with a suspended license(OK, don't scroll down). The idiom of idiocy continues with....

I woke up at eight-fucking-thirty.

Thanks Sun.

Post script: Better news continues at the job. IM me or something.

Post post script: If you can't figure out the IM, you're a runner up for the next "Week of Dumbasses". IM me for an application.

Post post post scripture: Jesus totally rolled away the stone yesterday. Now the Catholic calendar can return to its boring ass self until Christmas.

Add this to your slide collection

From New York:

Artist Jordan Eagles really is "Dexter"-ous with some artistic blood samples on display at the Chelsea. Nice! I can't wait till prints are on sale. I wonder if he has one with a smiley face etched in...

Darwin Awards: Honorable Mention #1 for 2k8

Another perfectly good opportunity wasted to rid the world of one more imbecile.

This. Is. Just. Retarded.

What kind of dumb ass believes that they can dunk a fucking Oreo while driving above the speed limit with a suspended license and not die?

TGIF

...just to clarify that Jason Voorhees is better than Freddy Krueger or Michael Myers, here's the original Friday the 13th trailer for your viewing pleasure. Yeah it kinda spoils the movie, but not as much as the fact that ol'-Hockey-Mask wasn't actually the killer in the original. It was his mother, played by Betsy Palmer. Jesus, I just remembered that, I didn't even have to look it up. Shoot me now.



And if any of you start whining spoilers... hush it. BTW, there's a remake of the best and tackiest horror franchise coming on February, Friday the 13th 2009. Say it with me now. Woo-hoo!

Artificial Cheese Flavoring is Your New God

I'd imagine you've already seen this, you savvy reader.

There are some things that you simply have to admire on the biggest holiday on the Christian calendar. Thanks to a Cheeto-loving youth minister in Nebraska, the world now has Cheesus Christ. I found this over at the Slog, which found it over at dlisted. So what? I'm passing it on to you.

FD4: Czech Your Soul At the Offramp

Life imitating cheap franchise-horror-kinda-art?

No doubt you've already heard on Thursday a massive 116 car pileup happened over in the Czech Republic. Authorities blame the snow. What do I blame? Death. That's right, Death. With a capital D. I'd like to recount this movie that came out in 2003 featuring a premonition with what could possibly be, the most stupendous scene of twisted metal that really has yet to be topped. I never have looked at logging trucks the same way since. I'm guessing the 33 people that were injured, however not dead, will be face-to-face with ghastly consequences from seemingly harmless appliances and freak accident situations in the coming months.

Speaking of freak accidents, Steve Irwin isn't alone. A woman down in the Florida keys takes it in the face from a stingray and doesn't live to tell of the tail. Or tale. Either one. Either way, that's a freakishly ray-related accident that just sometimes happens. But the truth is, there's hundreds of ray-related accidents. Some may be happening on your television right now.



Lock your doors and kill your TV. That's why the internet was invented.

Beat your alarm clock

Holy crap. I'm up early. Yesterday I went to sleep at this time. Why is this?

That's right. I'm up particularly early because I've got work. I haven't gotten up this early as excited for work since, god. A long time. Fuck Edmonds. That was a shitty job. And I'm glad I'm not there anymore. There, I said it. Fuck Edmonds.

I even beat the morning news over at the Slog. Slackers.

So instead of something interesting and informative I bring you....

Our very own, F Dub.

Stop me if....

I've been telling this joke for about three weeks since Tim told it to me. My jaw dropped when I found this on a random blog I clicked on. It's been entertaining me endlessly since I found it. But I feel bad for laughing. The site is filled with terrible terrible venues for entertainment. It reminds me of when I was young, the internet was still a baby, and a friend showed me Stileproject. It's kinda like that. But with less gonzo porn. Besides, at least I'm not pimping 2G1U. Right?

Ladies and gentlemen, I link you to ignoredprayers. Viewer discretion is strongly advised. (Try to) Enjoy.

Name drop #3

I know if I started a band I'd at least name one of the albums after an 80's movie reference. Like Venkman. That's why I appreciate Fujiya & Miyagi and I'd like to spread their name to you readers, with the exception of Ted. Ted is a P-I-M-P. Sorry, OT. But in any case, I'm going to make this easy on you guys and just give you a video to watch. Here's F&M with their song "Ankle Injuries".



That's the second video I've seen this week that features dice. The other one was Lil' Wayne's T-Pain-inspired "Lollipop" where Carter is featured holding dice-shaped suckers. If I find out where to get them, I've got a feeling I'll feature them in the future. Back on point, what makes this band even niftier you'd think based on the name there's only two members. Wrong. There's three. Theres the Ampersand. He's on bass.

I'd also like to spread the love with a little song about cheating and being outfront about it. I always thought this was The Police. Whoops. Is it just me or are there a lot of Brits in this entry?

Paging John Connor

I'd just like you all to know that we're getting closer and closer to SkyNet going live. I really appreciate the man that took the creative process and apply his skills to the suicide circle, but this is just ridiculous. At least he knew that he would be discovered the next day, because there's nothing sadder than a man dead and his suicide machine gone unnoticed.

Killer fucking robots. That's it, I'm moving to California. I need a governor that kicks ass.

Acronymphoma

Hm. I'm going to be throwing props to everyone today. First Qwerty for her link, now Cass for hers. So it turns out super site Craigslist has a Hall of Fame for posts. How did I not know this?

Nevertheless, I'm bringing it to you people. My lovely handful of maybe two to four people that regularly read TWO(cool acronym!) you people are awesome. Now... comedy. I also strongly suggest going to the directory page and getting a real laugh out of "Free Blow" in Denver, or "Looking for a dead deer" on the South Coast. Or the aforelinked "fRee eyboaRd". It's the cats pajamas.

The
Wagnarock
Opera

I just had to type it out. Nifty.

Beat Boxer

Have you ever looked at a dog and thought it was just a tad more hood than the rest? I don't mean pit bulls as stable hounds on Vick's property, no. I mean riding down the street in whatever sedan you have, with a dog hanging its head out happily while hardcore hip hop is heard over the head speakers. And loud. Well if you think that your Dachshund should be dropping it like its hot you should check out this website. It may have been coded expressly for you. Dog.

Thanks Qwerty Z. Really.

Post Script: I know the dog above is nor a boxer or basset hound as title and site suggest respectively. It's actually a Neapolitan Mastiff. I just picked it because I was looking for dogs that reminded me the most of Biggie Smalls. That one stood out.

Terminator 4: Adorable Prototypes Gon' Crazy

If any company was going to attempt a movie about cute robots ruling the universe with not a human in sight it'd be Pixar. Apple.com just released the full first trailer to their apocalyptic feature Wall-E and it looks jaw dropping. The dialog? How robots would talk. In beeps. Way more realistic than Roland Emmerich's 10k B.C. English? Are you serious? I would have passed over the fact that all the ug-ugs weren't ug-ugging if there was some more crazy sabretoothed action, but someone decided to cut out the scene of the amazing cat-astrophe. It surely would have been cat-aclysmic. I'll stop. But seriously, I know the argument has been aired before, but if movie studios are going to advertise something on the poster that immediately makes the movie look insanely cooler(read: saber-tooth tiger) and then omit said factor from the movie well dare I say said studios have just "belled the cat." Alien Vs Predator 2: Requiem got it right. You end the first film with a Predator/Alien hybrid, you better believe that thing shares the same screen time as Garrity from Rescue Me. I know for sure that I won't be seeing anymore Roland Emmerich movies ever again. Unless he comes out with a movie that features killer cephalopods. With lasers. On the poster. Wagnarock out.

Dawn of the Bread

I just started at my new job. It's pretty rockin'. When I get a schedule in the next week make sure to get in touch with me. I'd love for you to show up have a beer and make me look good. On my first night there, coincidentally enough, two of my old regulars showed up. And they over-tipped my trainer thinking that I was the one getting el dinero. I'm not going to tell you where I work, sorry. Privacy's sake.

But I do know a hot little spot that's got a kick ass bartender working tonight along with live music until 10ish or so. Stop in for a bite.

Hey look! No sphincters, God, or videos this post. Weird.

Belarus Magic

Yesterday, October 15, Belarus road police act a fool on a couple of Minsk residents. Police stopped four cars and asked them to be repositioned to stop a oncoming drunk driver. A highway human pinball machine essentially. The drivers and their company were still in their cars at the time of the multi-accident. Aside from head injuries, no one was severly hurt.



Slick!

Food Fight -

Now this is awesome. A food fight fashioned after all of the US-involved military attacks from WW2 to present day.
Get your war on. With nation appropriate foods.
Tourist Picture's official site for your viewing pleasure. Also featured? Portland's finest Menomena has their latest video at TP as well. Plug, plug. Gitty plug.

Rosebud

Every good news reporter knows that for the gritty, the devil is in the details. Every good news reporter, too, knows that being at the scene is even more important. Reporter Rob Leth for the Global News Toronto comes equipped with a cameraman and a "trusty" stopwatch to document a sled race. Hopefully Rob knows to read between the lines on his next assignment. A cracked tail bone and a punctured spleen can't be good.

"That was a bad idea. At Riverside Park, Rob Leth. Global News."

Flipping birds since 1983

Crosswords are a crazed passion of mine. Everyday I wake up and head down to a previously mentioned cafe and crack open both the daily NYTimes and the syndicated one that appears in both the Seattle Times and the Post-Intelligencer. Heck I've even bough stacks of graph paper and tried to make a fifteen-by-fifteen puzzle all by myself.

Not with much luck, unfortunately.

I love Brendan Emmett Quigley's puzzle, though I can't find where he has his syndicated puzzle is located on the web, except for over at The Stranger. I've found his profile over at Cruciverb and a few articles about him writing puzzles but nothing that suggests a true presence on the web.

But that's really not the reason why I made a post about crosswords. I just came about Dictionary.com's puzzle "solver" here. Basically it's a few submit fields where you punch in the clue you're having trouble with, any letters you happen to have and the amount of results you would like to come back. Now, if I was on the internet looking for help on a crossword, isn't that what Google and Wikipedia are for? Yikes. I'm no blue-hair that requires a tome of answers every time I pick up a puzzle. That's just outrageous.

If you got BEQ's website it would be awesome if you were to leave it for me. If you happen to be Brendan and you happened upon this whilst ego manically searching for references to yourself, thanks for sadistically ticking me off. Keep it up, I like it.

So in the meantime, enjoy this picture of a baby hedgehog's poop chute.

Make way for the G-O-D

Begin transmission from the Heavens:



This is God. Creator of everything. I'm pretty proud of things I've created. But know this my little lambs, there's nothing I love more than breakfast and simple games. This is where I got creative. I made these two things on this world so that not they would be used separately, no but that they would be used together. I bring you Tic-Tac Toast!



Go now and spread The Word of butter, Nutella and marmalade in the fashion of inexpensive entertainment! Ha ha! God made a funny! Spread!

Let the games of biblical proportions at the breakfast bar begin!

Introducing: New Feature!

A whole day with out a post? Mein Scott, Wagnarock!! What has been keeping you busy for nearly 36 hours?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

If you all are aware of the Seattle Metro area you probably know about AMC's Pacific Place 11 theater. It's on 6th and Pike, one block after the Metro Tunnel exit. On the very top floor of this haute couture mall you will find the theater. It boasts 11 screens on two floors, two concession stands, and outdated arcade machines.

Each theater is outfitted with a LED display above the door that says exactly when each screen is going to start the movie.

Which makes it inanely easy to theater skip(read: pay for one movie, stay for three on The Man). This is a blog to help you maximize the experience.

This is what I like to call....
Got A Day Off?
1. Wake up early enough to get a serious breakfast. You'll need it to keep up the energy before theater nachos and popcorn start looking like extra annexes on the pyramid.
2. Arrive at Pac Place 11 before noon. Make sure you have stocked your carry-all with an extra t-shirt, a sack lunch, and Sour Patch Kids.
3. Get tickets to a movie that most likely has been out for a few weeks or absolutely the biggest blockbuster that is out. Action, drama, most likely PG-13. This will ensure placement you on the top floor for your movie(s). The moneymakers get put in the ginormous screens flanking the second floor.
3a. The top floor is imperative. Upstairs concession stand doesn't open up till, I'm guessing, 5pm on weekdays. Less eyes are no eyes at a minimum wage job.
4. After purchasing your ticket make sure you're aware of the movies playing on the first floor. Spend a buck on Time Crisis 4 or something. This will help you decide bottom floor movies later.

Note: The aforementioned extra shirt is for if you think people are getting suspicious of your all-day movie bonanza, prepare yourself to switch up your wardrobe a little bit. Archie is here to help you too.

Enjoy. Tips for theater skips. Stay tuned for the next Got A Day Off?entry, and hopefully don't get theatrical blueballs. Thanks Urbby-D!

The "Why didn't I think of that?" Post of the Year

Some guys melded one of the most cherished breakfast items and one of America's most frightening condiments into one. Pancakes a la Cheez Whiz. Introducing: Batter Blaster.

I'm gonna pick up a can just for novelty's sake. I can't stand pancakes. Used to love them, then just stared at them for too long as a way of making money.

Yeeccch. But for those that are still interested after the news story... the official site.

precoffnitive: a little short

This is just an idea that popped into my head while I was reading this afternoon. Warning: It probably sucks.

I've just stepped outside of the second busiest branch of the ultimate worldwide coffee chain. I'm looking at all the people smiling and drinking their espressos or bottled water. Smoking their cigarettes or not and making unapproving faces at those that are. The one I'm talking about is at my 1030. Her expression right now can be best described as a pug that just simply is too good for her Iams puppy mix. She takes a cleansing pull off her triple tall caramel macchiato.

Two percent.

Damn it. The clouds of not so twenty five feet away from all public entrances is really starting to get to me. Scrounging for my Zippo with my left hand, my right goes to my breast pocket and I produce a Camel Filter. Click, flick and nick. There's a trio of skateboarders directly to my left. Let's call em 0345. Doubtful they've got a much more creative nickname for their little insane punk posse. The one wearing sunglasses takes 'em off and tries to get my attention. "Sir...?"

I've turned to him now. He's revealed glacier-fucking-blue eyes. Sorry, my mother read me Harlequin novels when I was staring at mobiles. Pack that with my whiskey habit and well you've got a unique descriptive to life. "Yeah Sunglasses?"
"Spare a smoke?"
"Bet I can call out what's in your Starbucks cup down to the flavored syrup. If I get it wrong you get a smoke. Cover up the check boxes too."
"What if you're right?"
"You get the receiving end of an inmate at the state pen. Dick."
"Alright," the kid is covering up the option boxes on the side of the cup, "you're a go."
"Grande nonfat white chocolate mocha. No added flavors."
The kid to the right of him looks at him and whispers, "Owned."
Sunglasses speaks up. "Not fucking fair. You heard me order."
I inhale a long hard drag on my cancer stick.
"Maybe, but I still win."

I'm not really sure where I got this ridiculous talent. It just happened along the lines. Probably when Starbucks took over the world millions of five dollar bills at once. I never really drank fancy coffee either. I was always three cups of drip for the morning, two cups of drip for the afternoon, and then half a fifth of Maker's at night. Eating whatever comes in between the cafe and the bar for dinner. Some people call it a gift. But those some people think I'm full blown psychic. Like I'm supposed to know how you're gonna die. Or if the next scratch and win ticket at the 7-11 counter is the winner. Nah. I just know whats in your cup. And it's really irritating when you're trying to read the paper. Or watching TV. Conan O'Brien's guest of the night takes a long pull of his coffee, says something that's apparently funny but it definitely wasn't a tall order. Judging by the audiences reaction of course. It's like you're trying to read about what Charles Barkley's politics are and all he's saying is in your head is two-percent-non-fat-orange-mocha-frappachino-extra-dry-foam-sweet-and-low-twist-of-lemon- with-nutmeg-shakes. Shit. And don't let Wolf Blitzer get started.

I warned you.

Mintz-Plasse gets maniacal

So I've landed the job. I got the message this morning that I'm going in for training Saturday evening. To prepare, I've been doing a lot of push ups, pull ups, brushing and flossing my teeth, in addition to rinsing with Listerine to ensure that I'm "The Man" for the (second place) job. I've also begun a dietary regimen of eggs and yogurt for breakfast, and basically variations on my amazing Siracha-infused Annie's Mac and Cheese for lunch/dinner.

Don't click on that link. It's "Annie's" mascot, Bernie, yes the rabbit. He has a MySpace page. There's Jack Johnson. There's even a link to an offsite blog, over at the official website annies.com. You can find it here.

I also found out today aside that bunnies are basically all Bunnicula, that Annie of aforementioned Annie's Pasta fame, actually created Smartfood Popcorn, basically the reason why white cheddar was invented.

OK, so there isn't a blog. It was a faulty link. My bad. Blame the bunny eating the cables. Blame Bernie.

And remember... the celery stalks at midnight. Man, I loved 2nd grade.

And now something completely different... Superbad. As a horror flick.

Spitzer; Now in No-Fi!

It's all over the news today. New York must be in shock once more. Their great white knight, their gallant gov'nah, the amiable avatar of assuageness (seriously, I was looking for an A word for leadership and BAM! something close enough is the WOD) linked to a ritz prostitution ring tapped into by the FBI. It's all over the internet now and if you didn't know by now just go to The New York Times and I'm sure it'll be front page material for the next two days, and all related articles are probably two Kevin Bacon clicks away.

$3k per hour? That's some expensive... uh. Just wow.

Sorry Spitz. Hope you didn't get the drips. Try to make up with the lady so you can share some more time with the kids.

Assuage. Awesome.


"I'll take Portable Poontang for $1000, Alex."

Street Smart

Ludacris is giving the recognition he deserves.Here's a link to a site called Strange Maps who gives us a US map which has "ho-zones" for all those mentioned in the song "Area Codes". Featuring that man who boasted that he gets more ass than a toilet seat.



Hopefully Luda didn't catch any Two-Oh-Sickness while he was up here. It appears from a aerial view that he spread the East Coast like crabs. Which brings me to...

Yo mama's so nasty, she made Speed Stick slow down.



And just in case you didn't know that Snoop and Nate Doggs were from the Rollin' 20's Crips, Know Gangs has that information and so much more.

Just call me Jonathan Frakes

Because I just got shoved back to number 2 on The Bridge.



I checked up on the job that I applied for, and sure enough... I'm no Patrick Stewart. Who once was the number one pick for the job got beat out by someone unknown. Apparently prettier and most likely has more hair.

So I won't be working the shift I told everyone about that could possibly rocket myself up Ballard Avenue. I got beaten to the punch. During the phone call to the lady that gave me the interview she said something along the lines of, "But we'll be training you."

To lucks fate another server went ahead and put in a notice. An undisclosed time notice. As in it could be a day, it could be a week or three or a month. Wasn't the standard two weeks? Who does that? And who beat me to it?

I'll keep you posted. I wish I had whiskey.

Dangnabbit. Want some comedy? This is just about the only thing that brought a smile to my face aside from compulsive brushing and Listerine.

The Bastard of Barnes & Noble... or STFU

I really don't know who in Seattle hasn't been to the University Village Barnes & Noble. It's been around since I was thirteen or so, so easily over a decade it has stood. Proudly and easily the cornerstone when University Village turned from quaint shopping center of North Seattle where all you really needed was an Ernst Home and Lamonts, now it boasts big chain names and unnecessary symbols. And apparently the second busiest Starbucks in the entire world.

I heard you gasp.

A few years ago while unemployed I made a really awesome habit of hanging out at the second floor near where the old computer annex used to be. They tore down a few unnecessary shelves and added a bunch of big comfy chairs where, I suppose, people are supposed to preview books. This was where I read The Da Vinci Code in less than six hours one afternoon, and tore through House of Leaves in the span of three. Afternoons, that is.

Well now that I'm still unemployed (the tap and grill in Ballard hasn't called me yet) I decided to commemorate the event this afternoon by checking out what I could tear through in an afternoon.

Sufficiently caffeinated and armed with a $1.50 Metro card, I rode the 65 down to North Seattle's clock tower.

Making my way up to the second floor I failed at really getting into a Cormac McCarthy book, so I picked up Jeff Lindsay's latest Dexter in the Dark. I bought this book for someone for Christmas this year but never got around to reading it.

As I'm reading about sixty pages into it, there's a guy, a smelly guy, talking loudly trying to woo two art students not but five and a half feet away. They relocated when he got up to go smoke a cigarette.

One hundred forty five pages.
An Asian kid sits across from him and out of fucking nowhere - hey-you-look-like-you-want-to-talk-politics! Smelly and Asian guy start talking. Now excuse me. But if you're in a public commercial space that has books and you happen to be in a common area where people around you are either studying or reading, wouldn't you too adopt a library like mentality? Does Smelly?

Six pages and fifteen minutes later.
I look up at him. "Hey buddy?"
"Am I talking too loud?"
"Yes, but-"
"OK I'll stop."
I thought that would end it. Granted he did talk quieter. For about...
Two pages and ten minutes later,
I just stand up. "Was I still being too loud?"
Me: "Obviously. I think a cafe would be a better forum for your politics."
"I'm sorry-"

I really hope karma bits that guy hard on a bus. If he's reading some political science or art history book, I hope some obnoxious Juggalo sits right down next to him and blasts shitty music through his ear buds. I'd never wish that on anyone. Except for a few. You people know who they are if you know me.

Have fun making up that hour tonight guys.

Shammed again

Mavis Beacon just popped into my head. I was in an IM conversation about how much of a speed demon I am when it comes down to my WPM. And then I thought about the nice lady on the box that taught me how to type when I was a tyke. Hell, I don't think "The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog" would have even have mattered to me if it wasn't for Beacon. So I was just going to make a quick little blog about Beacon, like "Quit freakin'..." when I stumbled across something totally harrowing.

Our beloved childhood friend Mavis Beacon doesn't exist. I'm not trusting bank tellers again.

2 Urns 1 Cup

Thirty minutes before the Van Gogh closed today, I gave up on the crosswords. That's the NYT syndicated in the PI and the NYT itself. I was totally bitch-slapped. Heading to the coffee bar to refill my last drip coffee, one urn bubbled and spat the bottom of the pot. Refusing to give up and not leaving without a full cup of coffee, I headed to the other... the "French Roast". Not quite the even close competitor to its superior neighbor the "Sumatra", always my first choice. I pushed down on The Thing. Groaning, it gave easy evidence that, this too, would be expelled of all its sweet delicious nectar in the next few moments. A few more presses. The cup almost full.

Few more. Sputter. Spat.

The cup almost teeming. The percolator gave its final hurrah, the last ounce or so splashing.

I let out a small cry of victory careful not making myself a spectacle. No throwing both arms up in victory or anything, but just enough to let the two people in the cafe that I was triumphant. I grabbed the coffee pot and set it behind the danish tray.

"All done, huh?" The blond behind the counter asked. Presumably rhetorically.

"Two urns, one stone," I smiled. "Hasta luego."

I don't think she got it. But I thought it was totally awesome.

Spacey-free

I know. Overload. Today has been pretty busy on this little blog, huh? First the overhaul on the template, the added videos to the right of ya, and this is my third blog of the day? Well, I just found someone that I just had to share with every single one of ya... which is probably a total of six. I know most of you don't share the same love of splatter flicks as I do, but I just wanted to point out that one of my all time favorite sites just happened to break a few stories that I wanted to bring to the masses. Of six.

Bloody-D broke a little story that perked my ears. One of my all time favorite horror films is a little known movie called Suspiria. Remake in the works? David Gordon Green? I am so there.

And now? And yes I know this is a lot to take in....

Zombie strippers. Thanks Jenna!



The Varsity Theatre on 14th Ave NE is hosting it on April 18th. Which is right next to my favorite place to get a Tanqueray and tonic.

Enough links. Enough blogs. Enough Spacey.

Googlenarock

Just like any of you I've googled myself. I've also go ogled people on a lazy Wednesday afternoon. But just to try to see how many other "wagnarocks" are out there. I know there's quite a few "wagnaroks", the original spelling of the handle. A few seconds ago I found this. Yeah it's in French. I don't understand French. Spanish I can manage to understand, but French? I strain my ears.

Look down. Further. Around seventh from the top.
"Non , c'est wagnarock"

WTF.

I took it all the way back to the beginning of the thread and found this.

Figures. The only type of medium that could inspire an amalgamation of the Nordic Apocalypse and some other word to become a namesake would be a couple of Frenchies that get their kicks out of a MMORPG and a Denny's employee. Looks like you can milk the cows too in Renaissance Kingdoms, that sounds like fun. Mining for milk.

On the topic of online namesakes, go back to the French forum. There's a moderator that goes by the handle of Kayser Sauze. Like my handle, close but not quite. Though the surname makes me want tequila, not Kevin Spacey.

Oh BTW, name another blog that can fit in two Kevin Spacey references in a week. Do it! I dare ya!

Confidential to Shannon: That last link was for you. I had a feeling you'd need some explanation. No hard feelings.

In other news: Roland Emmerich has a new movie out.

It's no surprise I'm a fan of the SLOG. I enjoy harping on my sister and getting the news. I read The Stranger at least three times during the week over and over and over. Reading the blog just kinda helps to quiet the times I don't have a marvelous book to keep in my back pocket.

Speaking of which Dean Koontz, whom I hate, wrote a new book which I'm currently reading as my form of counting sheep. It's not a "hey, look at me, I'm happily displaying my waste of thirty bucks on a hardcover" kind of public reading. It's called The Darkest Evening of the Year. It's about golden retrievers. And it's supposed to be scary? I can't wait for the sequel... When the Frisbee Comes Back.

Anyway, back to my point. I read the Slog to get my hyperlinks on. That's right I steal content for the few people for the moment that read this thing. I love you all. Really.

Which brings me to the news story of the day. Smoking gets hilarious.

Overqualified, a la Spacey

So, who's seen American Beauty? You know that movie that won Best Picture back in 1998 or 1999? Remember when Kevin Spacey first hits his midlife crisis, quits his job and then hits up the equivalent of Mickey D's and applies for a job?

"I believe you're a bit overqualified, sir."

I got that today.

Now, I didn't post on this earlier, but last Sunday, not two days ago, but a week ago...
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Yeah, well the old man at the Denny's I was toiling for is a real piece of work. I won't slander in a public forum, but if you want to hear my side of the story, you'll know where to find me by the week is over.

So I had my first interview at a nice little joint in my old neighborhood of Ballard. And I got the line with the manager staring over my resume.

"You're kind of overqualified."

Imagine the dumb grin that spread like Oleo (but not so fake) across my face.
I'll keep you all posted, and sorry for the lack of hyperlinks and jumps. I'm kind of watching Nip/Tuck right now.