I was once upbraided by a (female) vegan while working at a smoothie/sandwich shop:
"I don't see how it's anything but fucking disgusting to get your milk from another species!"

"Have you ever tried to get milk from our species? [pause] Are you volunteering?"

I may or may not have been slapped for that. I don't really remember.

Currently listening : City of Blinding Lights By U2

Labels: idiots, sex, stories, true, vegans, work

Labels: concert, mp3, music, u2

Writing a story set in that world would be, I think, lots of fun. Imagine it:
There would be people that have been struck by lightning so many times that their graves get hit like Old Faithful. The primary mode of transportation would be on foot - and any other vehicles would be much more safety conscious than where I'm writing from.

Gambling would be the national pastime. Irony wouldn't be a sense of humor - it would be totally normal. Think about it - the odds of finding exactly what you need or what you really don't need are usually bad here but in this world, you raise your hand for a taxi and it's (ironically) even odds that a taxi will be pulling up just as you raise your finger - or that the entire city's taxi population is on the other side of town, you poor schmuck.

Currently listening : Hot Fuss By The Killers

Labels: anecdote, fiction, stories

I. Nose rapist.
1. Nose dildo
i. I'll never look at nose plugs the same way.
a. I'll never think of plugs, in general, the same way
ii. Ribbed for your pleasure
2 Nose sex
i. Enlarging devices .. for your NOSTRILS.
ii. Would this help a cold?
a. I'll never look people with runny noses the same way ... bodily juices ... ugh.
3. Imagine the social repercussions!
i. Imagine the PSA's that would encourage you to seek help after being nasally raped.
ii. Imagine the porn sites (she's got a huge pair of .... schnozz holes)
a. Schnozz holes orgies = OMFG

... Aaaaaand so on.

Currently listening : Never There, Part 1 By Cake

Labels: fetish, frightening thought, nose, sex

The man and dog look very much alike - old and wrinkled, the skin droops on his face like cooled lava. His dog looks much the same.

On seeing the old man, the little girl's eyes grow wide and she wanders away from her distracted mother towards him.

"'Scuse me," she says. He lowers his eyes to meet her and smiles, in the way an old man's wane half-smile can be perfectly genuine.

"Hello." Her eyes grew even wider at the response. She is looking intently at the crevices in his face.

"Mister, are you melting?"

Currently listening : Peace Love Death Metal By Eagles of Death Metal

Labels: anecdote, kids, old, stories

Q: What do you call the American litigation system?

A: The Suer System.

Currently listening : Shalabi Effect By Shalabi Effect

Labels: joke, lawyer

The one troublesome thing about having a job that involves creativity - being a DJ or a musician, for example - is that if you aren't excited about it at least on some level, it's almost impossible to do a good job. Most jobs, you can go in one day feeling fairly unenthusiastic about being there but the job can be done.

I, obviously, was not feeling particularly keen on working tonight and so I used one of my old sets (thank God we use MixMeister and I save my sets).

So there's a conundrum: would I want a relatively menial job that I can consistently do well in, or a creative job that I can usually excel in? Well ... I'm not quitting either DJ or design so ..

Currently reading : Confessions of a Master Jewel Thief By Bill Mason

Labels: DJ, Maloney's, mixing, music, work

These are small bits of a few stories I've had in my head for a little while.

~~

The old priest wiped off his face and turned to his friend. "Jacob, I feel like I'm going to Heaven through Hell."

~~

"Don't give me that crap, you goon!" It probably wasn't the best thing to say at the time, but Peter had had enough. The Agent adjusted his tie. "You don't scare me with your conspiratorial crap - we both know I'd been on that lead for years and know what's going on. I wasn't born yesterday." The Agent looked bored and looked over Peter's shoulder.

Peter woke up with a headache, still wearing his jumpsuit and sat up in his own bed. He looked around and saw nothing unusual in his room except that his wallet and keys were on his dresser instead of in the usual spot. He got up groggily to examine them and found that the only thing left in the wallet was the picture that had started the whole mess - with the Agent's face scratched out roughly.

"Damn." He got a few twenties from his stash in the closet and got into the car. He could just picture what would happen if he got pulled over - "I'm sorry, Sir, I don't have my ID because I was involved in a government coverup and they took my ID and seventeen bucks." He got his watch - it said 26 SEP, which meant he'd been gone three days.

He headed straight for the DMV.

"I need a new driver's license, ma'am." The bored-looking clerk accepted his credit card, Passport, and Social Security card. "There's a problem here, sir."
"What?"
"It says your birthday is on the 25th of September." Peter blinked. "I was born August 15th, ma'am."
"And that's what all your documents say, too but -- wait." She blinked at her computer. "It says you were born the 25th ... of this year."

There was a beat. And he muttered, "Fucking agents."

Currently listening : Siamese Dream By Smashing Pumpkins Release date: By 27 July, 1993

Labels: anecdote, fiction, government, stories