Shit. I thought I had a good story blurb going with that title, but it kinda dried up and blew away. Going bitchcakes is what she calls it when she loses her temper. It’s a word I’ve loved since I first heard it, but I never really managed to work it into my own vocabulary.
Anyway, the idea was that bitchcakes and gravy is something she would make the next day as a make-up breakfast. Maybe I’ll work it into some other story.
You want to know what I love?
I love my sandwich from Ben Franklin’s. They haven’t named it after me yet, but they should, because I’m the only one I know of who has discovered the magical formula. I discovered this formula by eating my lunch there just about every day for about six months. If you ever go to Ben Frankin’s: 313 Higuera St, San Luis Obispo, CA 93401, order the Someguynamedjoe. They’ll probably give you a blank stare and say something like “Huh?”. This is because, like I said, they haven’t named it after me . . . yet.
After you’ve recovered from this minor setback, order:
number 19 on wheat*
works, easy lettuce
add swiss cheese**
add chipotle mayo
heat meat and cheese
* Number 17 or 18 can be substituted and both are delectible.
** Or cheese of your choice.
After all this, feel free to suggest that they go ahead and name this sandwich the Someguynamedjoe.
Mmmmmm . . . sammich . . .
Hmm. Maybe what they really should do is just accept “a la Someguynamedjoe” just like “The Works”. Yeah. I’ll have a number 17 a la Someguynamedjoe.
P.S. – Yeah. I know. It’ll just get truncated to “Joe”, but I’m trying to make this a marketing thing, people, bear with me. I’ve got a brand to pimp.
Yeah, not really. Arbor Day is a good idea, but I wanted this entry to fit today’s apparent theme of holiday bashing. I thought the theme was going to be something a little angrier, like “Useless, Made-Up Holidays and Why They Suck and Should be Fucked: And by Fucked, I Mean Abolished”, but my editor rightly suggested that was a rather unwieldy and decidedly non-catchy theme. And by editor, I mean brain. (Okay, I promise I’ll try to stop using this particular cliche. (And by cliche, I mean “3. anything that has become trite or commonplace through overuse.”))
So yeah, Arbor Day: Great idea, but needs major improvement. A couple of suggestions.
1. Celebrate it – Come on, people. Go to a fucking nursery, get a tree, and plant it somewhere. We really need to do this, because in case you haven’t been outside in the last four months Global Warming is definitely happening, and it whether or not you believe we caused it, it’s our asses if we don’t solve it.
2. Make Arbor Day the Designated Hitter – Here’s my completely brilliant plan: Any time there’s a holiday you would otherwise ignore (Like Valentine’s Day), don’t ignore it. Just make it another instance of Arbor Day. We need the trees people, step up. This could have a huge impact during things like Ramadan and Chanukah, or any other multi-day holiday. Anybody not observing should get off ther ass and plant something green. Catholics count all the days of Lent too. And since Lent is about penitence, all you Catholics step up and plant a plant for each day of Lent.
Not, you know, in general, but this year: Fuck Valentine’s Day!Last year was the first year I had cause to really go all-out for Valentine’s Day, and I did. I was planning weeks ahead, and I prepared a kick-ass surprise for my girlfriend. It was so kick-ass, in fact, that I heard all about how jealous the women in her office were. What I did was to buy a whole everlovin’ bunch of little hearts made out of some weird gelatinous substance, and decorate every window (except the windsheild, which would have been unsafe) on her car. She drove around like that for a couple of weeks. It was pretty damned cute. She even put one of the little hearts on the rear-view mirror and kept it there until our final apocalyptic break-up in December.So yeah, kind of a sore subject this year, but the rest of y’all go out there and enjoy yourselves. I’ll be hiding in my V-Free Zone.
I encourage the exploration of this site. I’ve been fascinated by it for a couple of days now:
Note: I just realized the whole image didn’t come through (02/15/08). Click the link for the intended meaning. – J
If you haven’t seen the entire series “Firefly” and it’s companion film “Serenity”, you really should. Fantastic writing, acting, and an exceptionally well conceived futurist vision. Also, it contains the linguistic convention “Shiny!” which is roughly equivalent to our own dreadfully overused and worn-out “Cool!” I am formally announcing my intent to utilize the far more textured “Shiny!” in my personal lexicon, and if you happen to catch me lapsing into the threadbare contemporary equivalents, do please remind me of my lapse.
. . . and nor am I exaggerating, when I say that Kiwi! may be the greatest film I’ve ever seen. I have never in so short a time been so genuinely moved to smile, laugh, sigh, cry, and smile while crying, as theI
I want to be a cartoon hero
And travel to the moon
I want to be a Disney villain
And sing a happy tune
That snippet is from a song so obscure I can’t even find it on Google. All I can get is some other song called “Cartoon Hero” by Aqua. This song I only heard once or twice when I was in college, and it was performed by a guy I barely knew, whose name I remember to be Phil, and who was a flippin’ genious on pretty much any handheld instrument with strings according to all reports. This particular song was accompanied by guitar, and was apparently written by a band he had been in before college. I mention all this in the hopes that somebody will someday read this post who knows Phil, and can ask him to email me. I would gladly fork over a substantial amount of cash for a recording of this song, because it was one of my very few thoroughly joyful memories of college.
Anyway, thanks, Phil, for a little snippet of memory that pops up every few months to cheer me up.
Stud
By Joseph T. Manning
The mirror threw back at Lucas a harsh, and unflattering picture of himself, but even under the sterile washroom lighting, he was satisfied with his appearance, so long as he didn’t take into account the tousled bed-fresh assymetry of his curly mop of hair. He was tall and muscular, a little fleshy recently, owing to a lack of activity, but nothing a few evenings at the gym wouldn’t tighten up. He gave his morning erection a firm and pleasant squeeze and contemplated the chaos that was his mane. All at once, the burden of brushing so much hair seemed inexpressibly unappealing and he impulsively reached for his shears, rather than his hair brush. Not until he was staring at a three inch wide strip of stubble running off-center across through his bushy forest of tight curls did he think to check the terms of his indenture. Clearing his throat with a muttered “Fuck,” he addressed the household computer, “Dwelling, would you please examine my indenture contract for any mention of cosmetic requirements? Prioritize anything to do with hair, or required permission for changes in grooming habits.”
“Aye, sir.” Was the computer’s immediate reply. The thick Irish brogue was an affectation Lucas quite enjoyed. He’d kept the setting for almost six months now, which was far longer than usual. When he thought about it, he was a little annoyed with himself. Lucas tried to be a bit of a luddite. While he was comfortable with machines, he didn’t like the idea of becoming too comfortable with them, or of feeling as though he’d developed a relationship with them. That was part of why he’d picked the name Dwelling. It almost sounded like a name, but it was easy to remind himself that it was also a descriptive noun. He made a mental note to fiddle with the settings when he got a chance. “Nought a word about hair as such, and the only bit about appearance is this: Section III, part d: Grooming and Appearance. Indentured employees of Hotaku Manufacturing: North America will at all times be meticulous in their grooming and thoughtful in their dress. Care should be taken to ensure that an indentured employee’s overall appearance reflects positively on Hotaku, and that it enables them to provide the best possible service to the company. Specific details will be addressed by managers as necessary.”
“Whew. Okay. Could be worse. Will you please ping Scott, and see if he’s taking calls?”
“Aye. Ping says do not disturb.”
