Currently Idle

Strange Neighbors

What do you make of this — since I’ve started to get up at 5am to have a few hours of peace & quiet before the morning chaos, I’ve noticed the same thing happening every day right around 6:30am.  A car drives up, pulls into my neighbor’s driveway, immediately backs out of the driveway, and drives back in the direction it just came from.

What is that?  Newspaper?  Stalker?  If it is newspaper, I must say, they get much better service than we do.  Our carrier barely gets it in the proximity of our front yard.  Honestly, I’d be more inclined to return the SASE he sends me every Xmas season for “gratitude” if he got the damn thing ON or NEAR our porch.

I like to think it’s a stalker.  Former lover of the wife of the house, just letting her know he’s still out there, and can flash his headlights into her bedroom window any damn time that he wants.

Probably, though, it’s just the New York Times.  I hate the f’ing New York Times, like I hate all things that make me want something I didn’t want five minutes ago.

White Stripes

So, I love the white stripes. I didn’t even know who they were two years ago, and then they became my favorite band. Something about stripping down to the bone. It’s why I love Mending Wall. It’s why I love Thoreau, even with all the pretentious bullshit and “look at me! I’m in the woods! but I can get to town in 20 minutes!” It’s REALLY REALLY why I will buy anything Henry Rollins touches and see him perform in any venue, any where. Thus spake:

Go without a coat when it’s cold; find out what cold is. Go hungry; keep your existence lean. Wear away the fat, get down to the lean tissue and see what it’s all about. The only time you define your character is when you go without. In times of hardship, you find out what you’re made of and what you’re capable of. If you’re never tested, you’ll never define your character

But back to the topic at hand. Here comes this really strange looking introverted nebbish and a slightly overweight but INSANELY hot chick, and they (the two of them) take on fake names (Jack and Meg White) and make just unbelievably fucking good music.
But this was NOTHING. This was just pornography. I just saw them live on the Daily Show (only musical guest ever) and I’m just sitting here realizing I’ve discovered sex. I’m at a loss for words.

Cheese Bag

The scrawny lil’ toughie at what passes for our local mini-mart asked me if I wanted a bag for my cheese. I said, Oh no, that’s alright. I use too much packaging as it is. She says, it’s a really small bag. Thanks, I say, but I’m just starting to feel like my whole life is just bags and wrappers and containers and trash and, you know, extra, unnecessary stuff. And she goes, Gee, is that a metaphor for something, do you think?

I walked out of the store thinking, Did she just call me fat?