Rattle Climbing

You know what's weird?

Baby carriers! They're the thing parents click their baby's beefcake body in and securely safe-en them in what appears to be a "baby backpack"? You know what else it looks like? Rock climbing equipment. Look at those poles sticking out! I mean, my back hurts, just from using a backpack, let alone a strapped on car-seat. A seat with a human being, kicking, and whining. What's scary is, is how easy it is to loose balance in everyday life, let alone having a great deal of weight completely throw off your center of balance from your front weight to your rear weight. Imagine how horrible that would be if you understandably trip while wearing the "baby backpack"? Not only your baby's soft spot be manipulated to some degree, but your spine will be a little messed up as well. People, I know you want to do everything in this world; however, you need to come to terms that yes- according to, Charles Darwin, the evolution theory very well could exist; HOWEVER, the human body does not need to recognize the necessity for kangaroo pouches... or do we?

Conversation with Mother

PHONE TALK WITH MARY
AMY JANS

AMY calls her MOTHER (Mary Jans) after seeing a total of seven missed phone calls.

ME
Hello?

MOTHER
Hold on, washing the dogs feet off.

ME
What?

MOTHER
Well there's a dog swine flu going round so i don't want her to catch it.


FATHER (Edward Jans) picks up a spare telephone at the Jans' residence.

FATHER
Hello?

ME
Hi.

FATHER
Your mother's washing the dog's feet off.

ME
I know (laughs).

MOTHER
Well I don't want her to catch the swine flu. Here, say hi to Molly (the dog).

Mother puts telephone near dog's ear.

In the News Twoday, 1/20-1/21

Good news, the season finale is airing tonight, following a "Jersey Shore" reunion. Tonight is the last night you will ever have to endure this obnoxious, but truthful show of smugness. Psych! "The Jersey Shore 2" is in the works, but instead of following, Snooki and "The Situation", they will be following now retired NJ govenor, John Corzine, showing him being reckless having affairs, and riding around in Cadillac s without a seat belt.

Pictures of Tiger Woods in his sex rehab came out, despite his addiction to erotic rough gatherings, the title of the clinic is "Gentile Gatherings". Tiger, no more the ferocious tiger in the sack, more so a "gentile" little kitty cat.

Survivor contestant, Jennifer Lyon, died of stage 3 breast cancer, survivor she was not.

An 83 year old man, beat a 99 year old man, 2 months shy of 100, with a metal tool, and threatened to cut off his balls. I think after reading that, I need a hip replacement.

Fifty- Haitian orphan children arrived in Pittsburg, PA on tuesday. Jay-Z is planning on calibrating with them on "It's a Hard Knock Life- Part 2". No one cares for you a smidge, when you're in an orphanage.... certainly not the case here.

A tribute to Micheal Jackson at this year's, Grammy's, is a 3-D performance. Watching him moonwalk is fantastic, now if he could walk on me, that would be even better.

Nutrients for the Mind, A Quote

"Many people think they want things, but they don't really have the strength, the discipline. They are weak. I believe that you get what you want if you want it badly enough." ~Sophia Loren

Thoughts for the day:

photo cred: tess bungay, that time in montreal.

What if the human body was just a torso and a head? With technology becoming so extravagant, are bodies are in less physical demand from a decade ago. What if evolution furthered, and changed the human anatomy to another step. What if your arms, hand, legs, and feet appeared when your mind told you you needed them? The other day, I must have crossed and uncrossed my legs a total of fifty-three times, all within an hour. Sitting down talking to someone, you really don't need your arms it's like they just hang there sometimes. Sometimes, I just don't know what to do with them, so I tie them in a knot, sometimes one hand may cup my chin, as the other hand may be stretched across the table. Weird.

Umbrellas:
I love how when it rains, people bring out their rain "accessories". You see girls who break out the polka dot umbrellas, and what do you know, it matches their headband. Could you imagine using a beach umbrella as a rain umbrella? I love how the younger crowd of men, use the umbrellas like a pimp cane, complete with the swagger.

Paint's Peeling.

Disclaimer: This piece has not been edited yet, and probably won’t be.

That is it, no subway riding alone past 11:30PM. It’s scary how exhaustion, can really just emotionally, and physically wipe you out. Life has consisted of the same, wake up, eat, work, write, fall asleep during writing- so in return- can erase write from the daily routine list. How is it- and why is it, that we as human’s run our bodies down till we have no fuel, can be so consumed in just getting by, yeah- we want to have it all, home life- work life, and time dedicated to hobbies. So we run our fucking immune system down till it has bacteria has conquered, till our bones can’t move, till we are reminded by our very own family members how wicked we have become. I can say, I have been corrupted by this modern life. Thinking about it makes me sick, it literally makes me nauseous, how my idea, to me, of how a “good day” ends, is knowing that I had no conflicts with people. Why? Yes, exactly. I am appalled. With people, people who you do favor’s for, go out of your way to make them feel comfortable, open your heart to, only to find out the disgusting, disappointing, lack of couth in them.

Back to the story, so- had a wonderful evening actually with a new friend, going home I was a tad tired, but was alright enough to endure the F train Brooklyn bound train. As soon I hit the seat, I fell right to sleep. Exhaustion and hunger causes a degree of unawareness, only for reality to hit you when it’s too late. As waking up to an unfamiliar territory as waking up- past your subway stop, in deep Brooklyn, by yourself, at 2:45AM, causes panic. Panic plus unawareness causes, me to leave my bag on the train! Realizing that my wallet, my well earned wallet, complete with compartments where you store very important cards, such as license, credit card, bank card, CVS CLUB CARD’s. Then I think what was in that bag? I forgot to mention, that with me, I also had a backpack- due to me leaving the apartment at 7AM, and not returning until 3AM, I like to pack myself “just in case” things, such as water, snack, chapstick, ect, “entertainment” things, such as my favorite book at the moment, notebook, and newspaper, and of course the “vitals” such as toothbrush, toothpaste, glasses, contact solution, ect ect.

SO- this particular day, I was all set to write, so I bring my notebook with me. Now, let me explain how important this notebook is, this 8-subject notebook, is my life. Literally, every thought of the day is in my notebook, every observation, is in my notebook, and a whole subject is dedicated to my journal entries. Words can not explain how important this notebook is to me, at the moment, my only sense of having something private. It’s just what keeps me going through the day. Everything great, everything horrible, it’s okay- it’s not horrible anymore after I document this, that is in my notebook, this 8-subject notebook was filled to the 7th subject, my work routines, that I have invested hours and hours of writing, and re-writing, brainstorm bubbles stashed away, I even take it to bed with me, and stash it under my pillow like a child secures their lost tooth, for the tooth fairy. And, also what was in my bag, was a very special book that was given to me, it had such great meaning to me, and when in need of inspiration, all I would have to do, is read the index to feel lifted. That book was in the bag. As well as the many pens I have collected from random places, they seem like no significance, but when I think about it, each pen gave me a different style of written, it was in the grip, the color ink, the circumference, click top- or manual? Ball-point easy glide? All of these qualities, I cherished. Much more was in this bottom-less bag. First step- call mother to cancel the cards, as by this point I was in a very panicked state, unable to manage in situation like this myself, when by myself. So cool, she was borderline calm about that- I actually am not exactly sure, as I hung up before the heightened questions could arise. Second, I think “oh, well the MTA should have some sort of 24 hour phone line that deals with situations like this all the time. Call one number, nothing, has to deal with this retched machine, expected that. Called the 1-800-number, my supposed “smart-phone” then turned into an “unintelligent-phone” the minute I actually needed the features, I was in problem-solve mode, “let’s do this”, I will report it, and get everything going. As soon as tried to dial this “1-800” number, my phone froze, and a ridiculous hour glass appeared on the screen. WHAT?!!! Get off my screen you untimely piece of sadness, go where you belong… on the Wizard of Oz! With the witch. Turns out the 1-800 number, wasn’t a 24 hour MTA card line. WHAT?!! HOW COULD THE FUCKING NYC MTA, NOT HAVE A 24 HOUR PHONE LINE. WHAT IS THIS! This is not St. Louis in the 1950’s, okay? This is New York City, post fucking Y2K. This needs to be fixed. Just then, I look up and see a 24-hour booth, at the subway, I said to myself “ohh please be helpful”. Goto the booth, some oversized perm pressed, nail-clacking, Bubbleyum chomping female sitting in that fishtank booth, I looked her in the eyes, not even thinking about my fear of eye contact, and say from the bottom of my heart, “Please, I lost my purse, on the train, please, is there anything you can do”? She replies with without hesitation “NO”. I think to myself “what, am I really in AMERICA right now?’ I said “Please, I had everything in there, there’s no one you can page?” “NO. The only thing you can do is to go down to Coney Island and see if it’s there when the rail conductor cleans the train, but it ain’t probably gonna be der.” I’m thinking to myself “what the fuck, how are you even worthy of a fucking name tag, you piece of chewed up mildewed moron bitch, it is fucking 2:45AM, I am by myself, and I am not going to fucking voyage to the fucking beach of Brooklyn to come in contact, with more illiterate bodies like you”. I replied, “Really? There’s no numbers, walky-talky channels, paging, that you can do, what about a LOST AND FOUND?!!!” She then says “Oh yeahhhhh, you could do that, sure” “WELL CAN I HAVE THE NUMBER?” She replies, “Oh, wait, dey closed on da weekends” As she shuffles around fucking disorganized scraps of celebrity pictures, and lined paper, I hear the Manhattan bound train, in which I need to hop on to get back to my apartment, due to my inconvenient slumber. I race upstairs, hop on, only to see two human bodies, 94% dead, laying horizontally, no shoes, no socks, filthy hoodies, homeless, that was the last straw, the release of water pours from my eyes. I just couldn’t get over this horror, how the fuck am I in America right now? The people, the lack of help, the deserted feel to this night. All I can do is hope my bag is returned to the lost and found, all I want is my notebook, that is all. Cut up my wallet, and make an arm cuff bracelet, sport my bag like you own it, but please just give back the notebook.

Wii Wi Fi Flix

Nintendo just announced that they are teaming up with the super easy entertainment DVD rental service luxury company, Netflix. You can now rent movies, straight from your Nintendo Wii, it is said to be ready for this spring. You can enter your e-mail address here: www.netflix.com/wii, to be notified. This is a great idea, as I'm surprised it hadn't been done a lot earlier, having the wi fi internet and all. When I found out the Wii didn't have a dvd player already installed like Playstation 2, I was a little disappointed. Looking very much forward to this coming out; it takes the stress of spilling coffee on the rental.

Boggus Bonuses.

So- I am a mind reader! No crystals needed. You can too be a mind reader, all you have to do is.... understand the movement of eyebrows.

The brows, lets you know if you should continue to talk or not.

If you notice, when you talk to someone you can see what’s going on here (gesture to the brain) by here (facial movements up and down).

High arched brows, means “Oh you want to hear more!”

No… you just had botox.

But this one here, I’m positive it’s accurate
(Pointing to wrinkle in forehead and upper lip curling)

This is what it says about that person: “I am a phony, pompous, prick, your idea sucks”
Once that face flashes, that’s it, it’s not worthy of a proud deliverance,
So I mumble

And then it just appears that I’m illiterate and deformed.

And somehow the deformed idea becomes the employee of the month’s idea,
And it’s brilliant!

“hey, umm, maybe- uhh, maybe perhaps, we could have maybe a point system?”
(Phony prick look flashed)

But wait, there’s more!
(Employee of the month clears the throat, free of any squeaks)
“HEY-I HAVE IT! WE NEED TO HAVE a…. a…. A POINT SYSTEM!”

“Oh! Yes yes yes! I like that a lot! Hm, great! Let’s do it.”

Free hugs, fantastic, Expensive hugs, frightening.

What you're about to see is some sappy creep who wants to install some sort of disillusioned world peace. Shut the fuck up, free hug harry, and fuck the "Sick Puppy" song in the background.



and while you're on Oprah, pretending you're not homeless, why don't you attempt to manufacture your "free hugs" into a blow up doll, so she'll have one more thing to ad to her "favorite thing's" show, "free cars people!" "free vacations people!" and "free hugs!!!!" Yeah, see how the stepford housewives enjoy that.

The Woes of Whoaaa.

The frosty brisk winter weather has me dreaming about what I'd be doing today, if this was the summer season. Imaginably, I would have plans to scoot on out to the boardwalk, or an amusement park. Waiting in line for a rickety wooden roller coaster, maybe a water ride with cars in the shape of logs (log flume), or the carousel? That's the breaks. The carousel is one creepy ride- the drowning organ music that plays in a loop on repeat, the horse head’s and haunting fun house mirrors plastered to the walls. I must say, I can’t really recall a time when I was authentically thrilled to be on the carousel. A phony joy waving to mom and dad, as you completed a 360 for the seventh time. Don’t forget to wear your lassoed rope seat belt kids, and hang on the brass stick pulsed out of your horse’s back!

How is that every time you go to an amusement park, you end up going on a ride against your will? It's ride-rape. The only other option is to sit on the bench by yourself, or even worse, sharing the bench with a lonely elder person, and you think to yourself “is that what my life will become in fifty years, my children and grandchildren blowing me off leaving me by myself, all for their sick pleasure?” Everyone in your little amusement park group is just tickled to go on the ride, as you're like "nice, yeah- I'll contribute to gaining varicose veins in my tired legs, waiting in line for a ride with plastic horses working on a pulley system". Oh, you don’t think that? Sorry, maybe that’s just me; however, you are with people who you generally care about, and the agreement to attend, is kind of a silent agreement of “hey, let’s not complain today”.

When hunger kicks in, how is it that in a group setting, you almost always end up eating lunch at someplace called “Granny’s Chicken”? “Hmmm, let’s see, I’m at an amusement park, I’m hungry, hot, tired, and thirsty. What- what am I craving… YES GRANNY’s CHICKEN! The hot, greasy grade D chicken, and powder mashed potatoes will just hit the spot! Believe me, that is the ultimate thing I crave when walking around for six hours straight in the beaming sun with SPF 85 dripping down my back, as with other people’s SPF dripping down your back.

How about when you go on a much anticipated roller-coaster, you know, the kind that has signs bragging about how many corkscrews, double loops, camel backs, swoop-turns, and fastest speed. You wait three hours in line, while getting scolded by the rent-a-cop security guard for sitting on the handrails in the queue line, you finally get to the part where you get buckled in (unless if the assholes with the “fastpass” or "hopperpass" takes your seat) and you have to deal with the horrible belt checker who touches you purposely inappropriately as they slam the lap bar down and the ride “VJ” who reads off of a lawsuit prevention monologue script in front of them over a loudspeaker with clogged speakers “thank you for riding the (insert ride name) keep hands inside, no smoking, eating, or evaporating on this ride, have a safe trip, make it a great day, and I’m not sure if “crowd work” is in the script, but they are certainly good at bringing the obnoxious “let’s get crunked” out of everyone. “You guys ready for the ride??!!” “YEAHHHHHHHHHhhh, fuck yeahhh, NOOO HANDSSSS!!!” Saying all of this while holding “rock on” symbols with their middle and index finger tucked harshly over the thumbs. As I think to myself, no, I just went through this whole ordeal to sit in this greasy leg divider seat, so I could have this bright neon colored harness suppress the air out of my chest. The keg crowd does not only work on cue, but continues to increase the sound frequency as the speed increases of the coaster all throughout walking out to the exit, and even then- still gradually decreasing and dispersing throughout the park, the rapid raving continues.

There’s always that one person that doesn’t want to leave. You have to bargain them, one more ride? No, how about three. Two? Well, okay.

I would say the most victorious moment is when you breeze by the last turnstile counter, get your car door unlocked, shower the international population sweat off of your opened pores, put on fresh cozy clothes, get a respectable bite to eat, plunk on the couch, watch some TV re-runs, and say to self “ahh it is good to be home”.

Prevent Alzheimer's! Bathe in Radiation!

Mother knows best? How about mother, ditch the lead x-ray vest. Have you ever heard, "don't stand in front of the microwave, you'll get cancer"? You end up going to microwave a bowl of EasyMac, and ducking under the counter, in fear of nuclear fission producing in your organs. Researchers recently performed an experiment, exposing mice to long term electromagnetic waves. Some percentage included in the experiment were healthy, little wiggly mousey critters; and the rest percentage had Alzheimer's.

What was discovered was, the healthy mice avoided Alzheimer's, as for the the already diagnosed Alzheimer critters actually started getting better. Next time, hopping in a CAT scan, ditch the lead apron, and treat yourself to some lovingful rays of Alzheimer depletion. The more rays, the less Alzheimer day's.

Life Boiling to a Bucket List

So wow, here we are 2010, another decade gone to the past, with nothing but Polaroid's, oh wait- I correct myself- it's the millennium- we now have digital... no... wait... midway through this decade a large population of young folks decided carrying around a five pound cube of plastic around their neck is so much more convenient than a pocket sized clear resolution editing friendly digital; regardless, we cannot go back in time, we will not be forever young (apologizing in case if you thought of that horrid "Youth Group" song- perhaps it brought the Dillon song instead- and in that case, you're welcome. Its really got me thinking how much time flies.

My dad found out that one of his best friends died the other day, not long before that another friend has died, and not real long before that- a few cows died, everyone and everything (Al Gore, rethink your plan, I am dreading the outdoors due to the risk of frost bite on my nose) is dieing. Seeing these people so close in age die, has my dad to be in a sentimental state of mind. He now has a fear of any moment he's going to be rolling out to the pearly gates, which is even hard to type (I was torn if that word would be a compound word, hyphenated, or two separate, the verdict has been decided). He's suddenly saying things like "let's go on some day trips" or "we gotta do it soon before it's my turn". But with the passing of his friend (s) he got really nostalgic, sharing all these stories, like "yeah, one time my buddy, Pete, called into work and told the secretary he was my long lost brother, he told her to keep it a surprise". The secretary was so excited that she just could not hold in this secret, and blurted out "Ed, I have a suprise for you!! But I can't tell you, okay I have to- your long lost brother is on the phone!!" He played along like usual.

Then there was the story shared about his old friend, John Murrini. This guy was known for his marijuanna dealing. He had plants 7-ft tall. He told his neighbor, they were tomato plants. She was a ditzy hairdressor, and didn't realize the truth. Whenever she would see Murrini, she would ask- "so how are those tomato plants coming, do you know when they'll be ready?" My dad and this guy worked together, they would carpool to and from work. One morning, my dad went to pick him up, right as he's pulling into the driveway, he sees cops with loaded guns. One cop stops him. He told him "turn around, leave, we have buisness here". The cops had set up hidden trailor's and have been spying on the guy for a week or two. John Murrini and his wife were arrested, and my father never heard from him again. He found out later from a mutual buddy, that he moved to Florida, was in a fight dealing with drugs, was thrown over a boat into the ocean, and died.

To sum it up, I am now seeing the importance in really savoring each moment in life. Sometimes life can be so easy, making it a blur, living life in fast forward will only lead to missing the key parts that make you the person you will become. Think about the Freytag Pyramid which pertains to plot structure in stories, if you think about it- your whole life consists of mini stories and that contains a cycle- three main parts being- rising action, climax, and falling action- and it repeats, constantly, you can't have a climax- without either the rising action or falling action; therefore, appreciate even the hardtimes in life. Life- it may seem infinitive, but reality is- it's not. Why not give yourself one heck of an autobiography? Fill your chapter's with confusion, happiness, surprises, fear, and how beautiful your story will be, once you do reach your destination on "Fairway Lane", and how your lessons shared, your spirit, will remain in the live's close to you.

Taxpayer's pay for: "How to... shoot up!"

The New York City Drug Enforcement Administration is releasing a packet properly titled, "Take Charge, Take Care". Justified by saying it is a "step by step guide on how to inject poison", it's really a 16 page pamphlet on how to prepare drugs carefully plus the how to nurture the veins. They used $32,000.00 of taxpayer's money on printing 70,000 fliers. My question is this: Where can I print my 16 page pamphlets for a low cost of $0.45? I bet you it's printed with laser inkjets too, none of that digital junk. Speaking of junk, anyone can now officially be an educated junky, so just remember "don't always inject in the same spot", this pamphlet is so beneficial to the community, reducing infected forearms across the country. This poster will be given out, amongst the pamplets on the fluctuating percentage of 20% of illiterate adults, who 14% of the 20% need to read this pamplet; but are unable to; therefore, a protest for free walkman's, and "pamplet's on cassett" will be held.