Delinquent as Ever

Well, I suppose it would be safe to say that all of last week represents a rousing failure in that "blog post every day" goal that I'd set for June. I suppose that's what happens when you pair family in from out of town with a general feeling of malaise and ennui.

I will say that in addition to a new tattoo and a fantastic piece of art that I got over the weekend, I did have a funny little tidbit to relate.

In the ever-fascinating world known as the internet, I happen across people from my past who I have all but put out of my mind. Naturally, many of those people who have not crossed my mind tend to be tossed in my direction via Facebook. I am constantly amazed at the random ability of this site to pick certain needles in haystacks and bring them to my attention. Tonight, for the first time in my membership of Facebook, I was recommended a seemingly random person, considering that we have no mutual friends or anything, just the fact that we "both went to SF State". You could say that about thirty or forty thousand people every few years, so tell me, Facebook, you wily dog, how in the world did you pick a girl I once dated and haven't spoken to in years? Yeah, you know the one - the random one who just literally stopped returning my calls and disappeared. How did you know, Facebook, that there was ever any connection between the two of us?

Well, maybe some other random girl from my past will start following me on twitter or something soon. Welcome to the oddness that is my life.

The Benefits of Being Slow

True story from earlier today:

I took what is pretty much my usual lunchtime trip to the coffee kiosk down by the office, and since this is part of my daily routine, the staffers know me by sight. Luckily for me, a handful of the coffee ladies are of the "cute indie girl" persuasion, so I also look forward to the chance to make with the nice-nice with a couple of wonderful young ladies while they make delicious, delicious coffee.

Now, before I continue, there's one aside that bears mention. As some of you may well know, I tend to be rather "punny" - I make jokes, oftentimes to myself, that tend to be met with resounding groans. Yes, even when I make said jokes to myself, I can't help but groan at them.

But back to the task at hand. Today I was at the kiosk, and the barista we affectionately refer to as Willow was working, so I was chatting with her a bit since I haven't been over to get coffee in the last two days. So we're chatting a little bit, and I'm as charming as I always am (though I reluctantly admit, I'm more charming in print) when she looks down (as I do) and notices that the milk she is steaming for my cappuchino has run over the side of the little pitcher she is steaming it in. She made some crack about how "that almost never happens to her" and I quip back something clever along the lines of "I have that affect on people." We complete the transaction, and I head on my merry way.

So as I am walking back towards the office, I think to myself "when that milk was puring over the side, I should have said 'my cap runneth over'... hurr hurr hurr...." Then I realized that from time to time, it is a very good thing that my mind is sometimes a step or two behind, since some of the shit that I come up with I would invariably end up saying out loud, and no one, and I mean no one needs that.

Scotty Iseri: Genius or Madman?

I have been singing the praises of Scotty Iseri to a number of my friends. If you haven't been among those people, I encourage you to laugh yourself silly while watching these videos. Start from the beginning, because it's worth it to epic proportions.

http://scottyblog.blip.tv/

Yes, this is another lame excuse for a blog post, but it's late and I'm weary.

No News is Good News

Sorry about the quiet recently, but "Bill the blogger" got pushed aside by "Reverend Bill" for a little bit, leaving me spending most of my time writing a sermon rather than writing blogs. I've also spent pretty much 95% of the weekend running around taking care of wedding stuff, which leaves little time for being surrounded by crazies. I suppose that speaks volumes to my friends Pete and Sara, because their friends who were at the wedding ain't got no crazy on my coworkers and my fellow commuters.

If nothing else, I was able to at least log an hour or so in a dive bar. I didn't make it into the Mission, and I didn't go to any of the regular haunts, but it was kind of like a fun field trip to a new bar in a part of town I never hang out in. It's like an interesting anthropological study to see what type of folks hang out in other dives around town.

I realize this has been a bit of a lame blog, but I'm trying to make it to sleep at a decent hour, and as I'll be off having all-you-can-eat pizza tomorrow, I need to conserve my energy.

Gas, Brake, Honk.

For all my complaints and gripes about MUNI and the number of times I have been subjected to a bunch of weirdos in my general vicinity, I still actually prefer it to commuting. Not only do I not have to just sit idly in my car as I inch along slowly towards my destination, I get to read, and best of all, I don't have to worry about taking my life in my hands every damn time I try to change lanes.

I was reminded of this fact this morning. See, I was walking towards work, which is almost directly across from an onramp for the Bay Bridge. I'm snapped out of my drowsy morning stupor by dueling car horns. As I look up, two very fine import cars are neck in neck coming up the street. Quickly, the issue is evident: the one in the onramp lane does NOT want to be there - they want to merge to the right and continue down the street. The second car is on the street and wants to merge left into the onramp lane. So essentially, they want to switch places. But here's the issue, gentle readers: neither of these cars wants to slow down to let the other one in. Quite the opposite, really. So how do they deal with this miscommunication/battle of wills?

By frantically honking at the other car while speeding way up. Because that makes sense.

Next thing I know, these two asshats are blowing down the street at about fifty miles per hour. The rest of the traffic is even hanging back because this can't end well. Finally, one of them slammed on the brakes and let the other merge. I didn't look because I didn't want to really witness the outcome, but I did hear the tires screeching to a halt.

So in the remaining half a block or so, I started thinking about it. Maybe there is a different code for people in cars and people on foot. I mean, naturally there is, because no pedestrian ever ran over a car and killed it, but you know what I mean. Then a sudden thought popped into my head.

My nightmare: horns for pedestrians.

And I'm not talking some little "beep beep" button or a bike horn. I'm talking about one of those gnarly pressurized air horns like boats have. Can you imagine that? Someone in front of you is walking slower and you can't get around, just reach in your bag or whatever, and honk the living fuck out of 'em. That will teach them to walk on your sidewalk! Someone brushes your shoulder as you pass them in the opposite direction "wauuuuuugh" and they will know just how awful they are. The possibilities are limitless, and if it ever happens in the real world, I would have to find some other means of going places than driving or walking, which might make things a little more... trying.

And I leave you with the words of the great sage Homer Simpson:
I pity those poor suckers on the freeway. Gas brake honk. Gas brake honk. Honk honk punch. Gas gas gas.

Unplug for a Little Bit

I know this will seem a tad strange coming from a guy with three laptops, but I have noticed more and more the insanity of people needing to be in front of their computers every damn minute of every day. Seems like almost every day I see more and more people on the bus working on their laptops with cellular wifi cards. I'm more than used to folks working in coffee shops, even bars from time to time. But let's face it folks, there's a bright and shiny world out there beyond the comforting glow of your monitor. It's not just the bus, it seems like everywhere I look, someone else is on a laptop somewhere. I see them when I walk around on my lunch break (granted, I work in the tech-laden neighborhood known as media gulch), I see them all over both airports and airplanes alike, but there's one place that I can't help but gawk: I have started seeing more bums with laptops.

Now here's the thing: I know it's not their fault. Even knowing that something is stolen, they're not exactly going to turn it down. I suppose I should be happy that the residents of my fair city aren't willing to buy clearly stolen goods. Still, I can't help but shake my head every time I see some dude pushing a cart or set up with a mess of sleeping bags in a doorway poking away at a laptop that's almost as nice as mine. Welcome to the 21st century. Next thing I know that crazy lady with all the cats will be asking me if I know about any good new apps for her iPhone that she can use for "whatever her that insane stammering, gesturing, and yelling was".

This isn't the guy I see around, but I'd be more than willing to lay a solid bet that this picture below was taken in San Francisco.

PDA Plague

I was doing so well, folks. I really was. But I tell you, today kind of pushed me over the edge. I don't know what it was -- I pretty much kept my daily routine as I always would. I took my regular buses, I worked my regular shift; the only thing out of the ordinary was that I went out to a show tonight. But dammit, I swear, I couldn't escape people making out all goddamn day.

On the bus in the morning there was one of those cute couples who commute together. Usually they're all fine, usually it's a little smooch as one gets off at their stop. Oh no, not today. Today there was a couple to the left of me who I swear were making out for a good five minutes. At 8:30 in the morning. I mean, I guess it's good that they both brushed their teeth in the a.m. and didn't have nasty morning breath, but dammit, do you have to do it in my line of sight? I'm just trying to read.

Then on the bus home, it was more of the same. Granted, there was a high school graduation letting out near where I catch the bus, but it went beyond that. I think I witnessed at least four couples making out at different times. That was augmented by the fact that at least two of those four couples involved either lap sitting or straddling (like the above picture, but on the bus. I feel bad for whoever got those seats next) which is just uncalled for in public.

So I put up with it for a little while, and I thought I was past it when I got to the show tonight. I waited in line to get into the venue, and I look behind me and what do my wondering eyes behold? A couple pushed up against the wall just fiercely making out. I get inside, I wait for the opening band to start. I look to my left: making out. I look to my right, a couple is all intertwined in each other. It was just a little bit more than this fella could bear.

So you wonderful folks, if you are lucky enough to have a special someone or even just an insignificant other to make out with when you so happen to choose, all I ask is have the decency to keep the public stuff more on the PG side, and save the hardcore face-sucking for more private quarters, where you are not around people with such a sensitive gag reflex. Thanks.