MJ

RIP Farrah

How I remember stuff

1. Folding it up small enough to fit in my shirt pocket
2. Unfolding it like the secret will be revealed

porchlove

I'd rather be sitting on a porch.

Is there anything more romantic than the porch? Rocking chairs, tiny grills, iced tea.

What haven't I done on a porch?

No Obstacles

Things that happened during my commute home last night:

1. Terrible train wreck on the red line (I was going in the opposite direction).

2. Police wrestled a drunk man off the yellow line and I had a front row seat.

3. The shuttle carting me home from the Metro station broke down forcing me to walk home.

On any other Monday, this would give me the right to say I had a crappy Monday. But I didn't die. So that made it a sensational Monday. A beautiful Monday.

Also, my fellow yuppie neighbors impressed me and took to hiking home along busy Van Dorn Street. I was THIS close to wrapping my pants around my head for the heat! We made quite the pale, hipster caravan. The one soldier in the group naturally led the way over smoldering four-lanes highways and through shady plaza parking lots. We arrived at our condos and townhouses with a new sense of accomplishment. Too bad we didn't get to hunt for our food.
JC

Rain

It's so awesome. No bright Sun shining in my eyes. Maybe I'll spend the weekend indoors reading a book. Or watching movies. Or hugging my wife. Or eating cereal.

Reasons to be happy, not sad

1. Bun-length hot dogs
2. Yogurt with no chunks
3. Almost always getting a seat on the Metro
4. Being married to a gorgeous person
5. and constantly wanting to touch and kiss that person
6. Coffee
7. A full box of paper clips and a stapler full of staples
8. Ron and Fez
9. Bocce

UP; Or, You Are Not Prepared For This Movie

So I went to the movies over the weekend. Or as my parents like to say, The Show. I took my beautiful bride to the show. We saw Up.

And for the roughly two hours that Pixar's Up appeared on the screen before us (in 3D) Lynette and I were a blubbering mess. I was not emotionally prepared for this movie.

First of all, do not be fooled by the Pixar brand. This IS NOT Finding Nemo or Ratatouille. Up is not intended for small children. Aside from the deep, heavy emotional subject matter, there are intense scenes with a nasty villain and scary chase scenes that would've kept me up for days if I were five years old. The little boy in front of me said aloud, "That man is mean, Mommy." I wanted to respond, "Fuckin' A."

Second, the creators of Up must have had a "special meeting" where all the writers brainstormed every possible situation that would cause level-headed adults to sob like we just got dumped by our high school sweetheart moments before our grandma's funeral.

There I was anticipating a light-hearted romp from trusty Pixar. In 3D! What I got was a heart-wrenching, painful emotional drubbing. In 3D. When the movie was over, I found myself exhausted.

In Pixar's defense, Up is beautiful. Up is great. Up is powerful. The message presented by Up is an important one and something many people need to hear. I just wish Pixar had warned me that this movie was going to punch me in the gut. Fortunately, the 3D glasses hid my reddened eyes.

RIP Harold Norse

Island of Giglio


we sailed into the harbor
all the church bells rang
the main street on the crescent shore
hung iridescent silks from windows
stucco housefronts gleamed
rose, pistachio, peach
and a procession sang
behind a surpliced priest
carrying a burnished Christ
when I set foot on shore
a youth emerged from the crowd
barefoot and olive-skinned
and we climbed up rocky slopes
till dusk fell and close to the moon
at the mouth of a cave we made love
as the sea broke wild beneath the cliff

Bad. Ass.

And he's wearing my pants.

Seriously, I have those pants.

Reality vs. Expectations

A scene from 500 (Days of Summer)... a movie I am looking forward to, opening July 17th.

'500 Days of Summer' Expectations vs. Reality @ Yahoo! Video

Chaplin

Top Containers

1. Cereal bowl
2. Beer bottle
3. Coffee mug
4. Tackle box
5. Christmas present
6. Bra
7. Backpack.

Chicago Women

From Boner Party:

"nothing beats chicago women in the summertime. nothing. i dont care where you’re from, who you know, any other advice you’ve heard along the way, the uplifting quotes youve heard and thought “hey that defines me”, any words of wisdom spoken by an elder, a parent, a loved one, anything. chicago women in the summer have lived through the winter and still have a little bit of the winter-beer-gut and you can blow farts on it alllll through the summer. its fucking rad. and you get to sit out on the back porch and drink beers and listen to whatever the fuck twee album Drag City just put out and chill the fuuuuck ouuuut. you cant do that in LA - nobody really has “porches” so to speak - and you cant do it in New York - well, sort of, but its “because some guy wants to make a point about porches” or some shit.

so heres to porches and chicago women. its the best of both worlds. wooden structures and milkfed 8’s from Eau Claire who can cook a decent omelette. fucking win."

Boner Party

Boner Party!!

It's a new blog I discovered via Buzzfeed.
LINK

The Old Republic

Gonna have to quit my job for this:

Stephanie on Trapeze

I know a woman who has performed on a trapeze in front of a live audience. How frickin' cool is that! It's no lie. The video below is proof:

Be sure to check out Stephanie's web site HERE.

Ms. Ellison is a cherished friend from college. Lynette met her while working at WGLT and she stood up in our wedding. Every person who meets her instantly falls in love with her. In other words, she's great. Watch her video and ask yourself: When are you going to learn trapeze? (Yes, that's a metaphor.)

Alan Wake!

Um, yeah. I'll be playing this.

Thursday Things

I need a slightly larger thermos for coffee. To no one's surprise, the coffee at the nearest "cafe" tastes like sugared, rusty-brown water drank from an old tin can once used to hold nuts and bolts in your grandpa's old garage.

The rain that falls from the sky causes wetness. Write it down. It pleases me to watch people emerge from the depths of Union Station and act shocked and frightened at this strange liquid falling from the sky. Quietly, I walk past them and say, "This is your fault because you touch yourself."

Speaking of rain, if I were still driving to work instead of using Metro, I'd still be stuck in traffic. From last night's commute!

Speaking of public transportation, I'm currently reading The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley.

Happy Ass

This week I moved to a new office on the other side of the city. To my dismay, my chair did not make it. None of our chairs made it. In this trivial office world of mine, it was a tragedy. A source of many speculations. Certainly, we had been spurned.

New, undeserving asses must be enjoying our old chairs. It's nothing less than a grand conspiracy to separate our asses from the cushions we had so grown accustomed.

Then suddenly, my old chair arrived to the new office. Two days late. Joy! Celebration! (Back to work.)

Top Sounds:
1. Tires upon gravel.
2. Ice skates upon ice.
3. A small child laughing at my joke.
4. Scissors at the barber shop.
5. Quiet moans from carnal pleasure.
6. Rain on the window.

Conan is still hilarious!

The Prisoner