Tuesday, January 04, 2005

Keeping the World Safe for Rock and/or Roll

That’s me, the guardian of cool. Sentinel of the ultra-hip. Look-out guy for...neat things.

My friend Adam is putting me in a music video. I’ve never been in a music video before. It should be a good time. I guess he’s going for “geeky-cool” with less emphasis on the “cool.”

Maybe he’s not going for cool at all.

You know, I’ve never thought about that. Maybe he’s just looking for some nerdy dude. In order to make the musician look that much more “rockin-er.”

Hey, maybe I don’t want to do this thing at all! Jerk. Make a fool of me, will he?! Well, we’ll see who’s laughing after I slash his tires…

I’ll be right back.


Okay, I’m back. I got halfway to the 405 and realized that I may be jumping to conclusions…or, maybe, I never actually left my apartment and only lied to you just now. I guess you’ll never know, will you? I bet you could take a pretty good guess.

Alright, things are getting a bit punchy around here right now. I’m a little frazzled lately. The rain does something to Southern Californians. It turns them into mindless jerks. Not me, of course. Everybody else. No one has even the remotest idea of how to drive in these conditions. And the “conditions” are relentless. The rain just never stops down here lately. Mother Nature’s making up for the last 100 years of fantastic weather.

And the gym is over-crowded. Thank god that Bally did that New Year’s push. You used to actually get to work out there every once in a while. That’s not what Bally is all about. Membership gyms aren’t about working out. They’re about the promise of working out. A fitness potential. If people actually used their memberships to their fullest, the gyms would lose money. See, the trick is to get people to pay for a service that they eventually get tired of utilizing so that they’re ultimately, in essence, paying for nothing. That’s why they have you sign a three-year contract. Who’s going to workout steadily for the next three years?! Mr. Universe maybe. Jeeze.

However, not all of the “resolutioners” have figured out the Bally way yet. It seems that they feel as if they should actually use their memberships at the moment. Hopefully they’ll see the light. Sooner rather than later. My weak little heart can’t take the aggravation. And probably never will be able to since I can’t get on any of the freaking machines to strengthen it!

I haven’t quite figured out the Bally connection to the incessant rain problem, but that doesn’t mean that they’re not conspiring against me.

Anyway, that’s my grief. Compounded, I’m sure, by the fact that at the moment I have no job and am thoroughly bored. Bored, bored, bored.

I probably shouldn’t have said that. The second that someone mentions that they’re bored, every idiot in the world comes up with some “brilliant” idea to stifle that boredom. I should have learned earlier in life. My mother had an uncanny knack for finding mindless chores to fill my time.

You know, come to think of it, Tanya’s pretty good at it too.

Strange.

Maybe it’s just women. Tanya’s usual is “mop the floors.” Mop the floors. Really. Come on now. “Clean your room” was my mother’s favorite. That and “do the dishes.” But the dishes I can understand. After all, there’s a pressing need to do the dishes. Especially if you plan on eating something sometime in the near future. Which, invariably, I am.

But mop the floors? I need for there to be some kind of urgent reason to perform a chore. When I was a kid, no reason was sufficient, but now I’m an adult and have learned that there’s a reason to take the garbage out. Look what happened to Susan Sara Cynthia Stout. But unless the bathroom floor is covered with blood or some kind of floor-eating acid, it’s just not that vital, you know?

Besides, with all the friggin’ rain, the floors are just going to get dirty again. And all the hair on the bathroom floor is cheaper than carpeting. And my god is it soft.

Well, most of it.


Fun Fact: The new TAM Cartoon is up! It’s brand new! It’s not very well drawn, but it’s new. Plainly, in the week that I took off, I forgot how to draw.

Damned rain.

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