Formula

After watching Charlie Bartlett, a largely horrible film with few jokes that I saw because Robert Downey Jr. still happens to be amazing no matter what, I've compiled these notes. Also, I will never watch a movie set in high school ever again.

High School Movies...
MUST have every student clique divided and noticeable. Jocks will always wear letter jackets. Nerds or outcasts will have problems coordinating their outfits. Look for wacky hairstyles to signal these characters.

MUST star people in their 20's, and not people who seem to actually be in high school. This way, everyone thinks that high schoolers are more mature. The bully character will look like he is at least 30 years old.

MUST portray the school in a light that makes it seem like the worst inner city high school on a bad day. Coke snorting in the bathrooms. Smoking everywhere.

MUST be predictable. The teacher comes to understand the student. The student realizes something about themselves, wins over the girl, and makes everything perfect.

This is how I whine...

Parking Ticket
A play in one act
_________________

Dramatis Personae
Officer Fettid
Officer Roach
Officer Pembley

__________________

Dawn breaks, and the three officers--parking attendants--emerge from a manhole cover in the middle of the street. It is a one-way street with cars angled into parking spots on both sides. Faceless concrete buildings surround all sides. There is nothing but the street, cars, the concrete walls, and the meter maids. The men are wearing bright blue SS shirts, and jodphurs.

Officer Fettid: (smelling his moist sleeves) Ah! What a great day...
Officer Roach: Well, gents, where to?

The men look down the only road.

Officer Pembley: North for me.
Ofc. Fettid: Fine, west.
Ofc. Roach: East it is.

The men proceed down the same road together.

Ofc. Fettid: (smelling his sleeves again) Such a great day...
Ofc. Pembley: (placing a ticket in a car's windshield wiper) Will you please get to work?
Ofc. Fettid: I work!
Ofc. Roach: He works!
Ofc. Pembley: O.K.

Officer Fettid takes his hat off and examines the inside carefully.

Ofc. Fettid: Sometimes I do feel useless, though.
Ofc. Roach: (taking off his hat as well) Useless?

The three convene in the center of the street.
Fettid inspects his hat, passes it to Roach, who
in turn inspects his hat, and passes it to Pembley.
They rotate the hats for hours.

Ofc. Fettid: Only sometimes I feel useless.
Ofc. Pembley: (dusting off his new hat) Back to work.
Ofc. Roach: (placing a ticket in another car's windshield wiper) Back to work.
Ofc. Fettid: Sometimes I do feel guilty...

The three convene again in the center of the street.
They pull off their leather boots and upend them.
Several gold coins spill out. They each laugh.
Roach collects the coins. They put their boots on.

Ofc. Pembley: (stroking his mustache, smiling) Guilt...
Ofc. Fettid: Are we done yet? The sun is getting high.
Ofc. Roach: Are we done yet? What sun?

Pembley strokes his mustache and nods. The three
go back into the sewers and return the manhole cover.

Thoughtful as bootprints in mud.

Everything I own can fit in the back of my Subaru.
My abandoned hair was swept along the linoleum floor today by Mike the barber. He works at a hair salon, but he's a man, so I'm calling him a barber.

I desperately want a three-piece suit to wear grocery shopping.
Sign a check for some oranges and a gallon of milk, stop, and look at my pocket watch.
Nix that, I am so-so on both those purchases.

My desperation to own a suit goes hand-in-hand with using the words "doll," "miss," and "love," as pronouns.

I'm also desperate to not be an asshole, but the three-piece suit works against this. Same with the pronouns.

I'm pretty sure most of the traffic I get for this blog is from Google images...

I'll name your dog. In fact, I'm great at names

And if you believe that lie, here are some examples:

"Koala"

"Cruella DeVille" and her dogs "Jerry Garcia" and "Penny Marshall"

"Handicapped"

Look, I can name other creatures, too:

"Mr. Burns," "Rogaine," or "Cojax."

"Winnebago," "Sex Machine," or "Nimble."

I know. I'm not funny. This post wasted so much space...

Thank you, Google.

Check this out:

Look at that. . . Top Dog in an ultra-specific search.

What's on my brain is on my blog...

And right now, I have "Rhythm is a Dancer" by Snap on my brain!

These songs have been helping me get rid of it:

1. "4-Track Love Song" by The Rosebuds
2. "Karen" by The National
3. "Fine Young Cannibals" by Wolf Parade
4. "An Audience with the Pope" by Elbow
5. "Olympic Airways" by Foals
6. "Threads" by Portishead
7. "All I Need" by Radiohead
8. "Ne Me Quitte Pas" by Nina Simone
9. "Colorshow" by The Avett Brothers
10. "Leif Erikson" by Interpol
11. "C.R.E.A.M" by the Wu-Tang Clan
12. "Cause = Time" by Broken Social Scene
13. "Great Day Today" by Madvillain
14. "All Fires" by Swan Lake

"I'm serious as cancer when I say that rhythm is a dancer" --Thank you for the great 90's lyric, Snap.

Ever get out of the shower, and then have to poop, and feel like your body has betrayed you?

Man, I hate that.

Inspiration

Personally, I think quote books are lame. Want an inspirational quote? Here, this is what Gandhi said. Here's what Polly Shore said about acting.

But, I just got The Oxford Dictionary of Quotations (published in 1953) in the mail from my Great Aunt Mollie. What a blast! It has over two pages of George Bernard Shaw quotes!

"I never apologize," quod George Bernard Shaw.

Testament of my character: Quote books suck, except for the one I receive.

Brazilians are born with fanny packs

I know you're reading this thinking What? Is this true? Can a fanny-pack even fit through the birth canal with a baby?

Here's a fun task: Go to a theme park and count the number of fanny packs. Note: a beautiful girl at your side will be better at keeping count, guaranteed.

Yesterday at Islands of Adventure, the young adult's theme park, there were 350+ fanny packs visible--thanks mostly to a Brazilian tour group.

1. You should wear a fanny pack topless.
2. I should hesitate a little more in posting a picture of this sort to the site.

This one girl leading her pack of kids kept blowing on a whistle and reminding everyone in line why we hated the SS. Why we sometimes get annoyed with South America.

3. Two fanny packs are better than one.

"You get me some toilet paper?"

This is just one piece of fried gold I heard today at the Waldo Flea Market from a girl tying her shoe next to a mud puddle. I think that image alone conveys everything.

You haven't lived until you've been to the Waldo Flea Market. I'm pretty sure most of the stuff there for sale has been stolen. Wristwatches, cairn terriers, lawn gnomes of Dora the Explorer, denim jeans. Why are there so many denim jeans there?


I would never even consider slipping on one leg of those jeans. Look at the rash I got from them overalls!

There's a tent in the very back for Redneck supplies. The tent is even named something boisterous , like "Redneck Paraphernalia" (too complicated) or "Redneck Junk" (too honest) 0r "Redneck Wondermart" (too exciting). I'm sure they sell the highest quality bedsheets, wooden pylons, stakes, torches. The usual.

I really wish the stereotypes weren't true. I was hoping to go there and not see vendors selling knives and large belt buckles. I didn't want to see the vast selection of hardware and leather suits. I wanted to destroy my conceptions, but failed. I got mud on my shoes.

One beer, one paper cup of champagne, and 200 posts later, I'm sitting here at work listening to bottle rockets go off in the distance for the 4th of July.

What a holiday.

I hope you all don't blow your hands off with M80s. Too bad we really signed the declaration on the 2nd.

The picture in the left column is of a ceiling fan.

You are hysterical, dear Papoose

There are only a few things funnier than papooses. Seeing a person wearing a "pooch papoose" is one of them.

Sophistication is this woman's middle name.

I want a dog just to own a pooch papoose. I want a papoose filled with Twix bars. I want to name a child Papoose (and deep down I hope Papoose becomes the next Amanda or Ashley in name popularity).


It gets better: there is a rapper named Papoose.

papooseonline.com Rappers have websites these days. Special thanks to dear Brandy German for the heads up!

I can only hope he has a platinum papoose that he carries several pitbulls in. East coast, what what?

Seriously though, think about a papoose filled with Twix bars. Dream a little.