So I've decided that I'm going to analyze (in my highly accredited art student opinion of course) some of the book series that I grew up around. A few I read and some I didn't, but my two sisters did. These are of course meant to be cheeky and sarcastic, so don't get all bent out of shape on this.
The first series that I'm going to talk about is The Boxcar Children. Seriously, a bunch of kids living in a goddamn abandoned train car?!?!?! First off, how they hell are these kids able to just live there? I mean you obviously have to worry about food. Do they eat trash? Are they thieves? Do they do certain things for in exchange for some Taco Bell?
Then there is the whole um...sanitary issue. Kids in general are smelly and sticky, and these little bastards live in an abandoned train car. Where are you gonna take a shower, or bath if you're not a shower man (or woman)? What about washing your clothes? I mean sure in a pinch you can wear the same thing for a few days before it gets gross, stained, and smelly. And probably the big one: where do you take a shit? Not sure I need to elaborate any further on that one....
Next up is their home/office/abandoned train car. I assume that it's in the middle of fucking nowhere since no adults ever notice a handful of unsupervised stinky children eating and shitting by a railroad car. The thing has heavy ass doors. I mean yeah, in the summer you want that breeze to remove the smell of that heroin addict who O.D.ed on the way from Denver to Chicago in 1997 and remove the smell of hobo love; BUT come winter time you're gonna want those doors shut and guess what? Those damn things are HEAVY. People die getting stuck in there and you live in an abandoned one? In the middle of nowhere?
This leads me to my next point. What do they do about medical care? I mean it's a rusty old train car, chances are one of them is going to need a Tetanus shot...unless they like living with lock jaw. I mean is one of those kids Doogie Hower M.D.?
I think though, the strangest thing about this is the fact that these kids solve mysteries. God damn mysteries. How is it that these kids can solve a triple homicide or a break in at a shopping center, but none of these cops or just adults ask these kids: a) what are you doing here? b) where are your parents? c) where do you live? d) why do you look and smell like shit wrapped in lint? or e) how do you little bastards keep getting involved with these things? I'm calling Social Services. But no, no one takes the initiative.
For reals, this shit is kinda messed up and perplexing. Kids living in an old boxcar going around solving crimes and not getting hassled about where they live or not having any sort of adult supervision. That's America for you.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
What's That Smell Part Six: Who Shit in the Air Vents?
Well, here goes the first entry of the new year and the sixth incredible chapter of this god damn epic piece known as What's That Smell? So sit back and read the smells!
This seasons journey started at about 4:30 in the god damn morning, as I waited outside for the Super Shuttle to arrive. I got the call and he didn't show for like 10 minutes. When he finally showed up, the whole van was packed and this driver was just chucking suitcases in the back left and right with no regard for anything. Fast forward a few hours or so and I'm on the plane to Minneapolis. And the dude next to me was farting pretty much the whole time. The kinda where you can tell you gotta a turd on deck. Yep bad. To top it off, he was also trying to bogart my space. BASTARD.
I then arrive in Minneapolis, which is one of my favorite airports; although there was one thing that was different this time. The entire place smelled like shit. Not metaphorically. More like someone took a duke in the air vents. It was everywhere. Mmm mmm.
Nothing magical really happened on the way from Minneapolis to Grand Forks, so I'll skip that part. My actual trip was good though and I can't wait to go back in the summer. So lets fast forward 2 weeks to me flying back.
I'm sitting in the new Grand Forks airport, which is much better than the old one for sure, and as I'm waiting for my flight to board the flight in the next terminal is about to board and the announcer guy is being super sarcastic and hilarious. Here is a taste of what he said:
*"Okay, we're going to board our 1st class and priority customers first, if you are unsure if you fit into that category, chances are you don't."
*"We're going to be boarding in a specific numerical order, so don't bother crowding around, you're not getting on early."
*"...if you look on your ticket and see a Z you can board, and if you're from Canada that's a ZAY..."
Good stuff.
So Grand Forks to Minneapolis wasn't bad, the flight attendant had a bit of a retarded Moon Bloodgood look going on, but that was about it. That and the fact that the ginormous lady next to me kept hitting me with her arm as I read Harry Potter & The Prisoner of Azkaban (yeah I'm like 10 years behind, so what?).
Minneapolis to San Francisco was fairly pedestrian compared to past tales. There was the couple who sat next to me that kept having the urge to feel each other up, which was uh...weird to say the least. This was also the first time that I had been on a flight to where I had people from behind me rush the front of the plane so they could get off first, even though I was in the 4th row...of the second section of coach (which was right by the exit, which was why I was a bit miffed).
The journey from the airport was exciting as well. First the BART doors on the train were locked for about 10 minutes, while people were in the train (LAME!). I finally got to the Powell stop and saw Mandi waiting for me (that was super awesome!). Then as we were walking to the bus stop we passed a "homeless" guy who let me know I was officially back in San Francisco by saying this to me: "Hey man, can you buy me a hooker? It's too hard to masturbate when you can't feel your fingers!"
Well that's this seasons incredible (?) installment of What's That Smell?. While I was home I was brainstorming some ideas about future entries, hopefully they don't suck.
Peace out who ever reads this.
This seasons journey started at about 4:30 in the god damn morning, as I waited outside for the Super Shuttle to arrive. I got the call and he didn't show for like 10 minutes. When he finally showed up, the whole van was packed and this driver was just chucking suitcases in the back left and right with no regard for anything. Fast forward a few hours or so and I'm on the plane to Minneapolis. And the dude next to me was farting pretty much the whole time. The kinda where you can tell you gotta a turd on deck. Yep bad. To top it off, he was also trying to bogart my space. BASTARD.
I then arrive in Minneapolis, which is one of my favorite airports; although there was one thing that was different this time. The entire place smelled like shit. Not metaphorically. More like someone took a duke in the air vents. It was everywhere. Mmm mmm.
Nothing magical really happened on the way from Minneapolis to Grand Forks, so I'll skip that part. My actual trip was good though and I can't wait to go back in the summer. So lets fast forward 2 weeks to me flying back.
I'm sitting in the new Grand Forks airport, which is much better than the old one for sure, and as I'm waiting for my flight to board the flight in the next terminal is about to board and the announcer guy is being super sarcastic and hilarious. Here is a taste of what he said:
*"Okay, we're going to board our 1st class and priority customers first, if you are unsure if you fit into that category, chances are you don't."
*"We're going to be boarding in a specific numerical order, so don't bother crowding around, you're not getting on early."
*"...if you look on your ticket and see a Z you can board, and if you're from Canada that's a ZAY..."
Good stuff.
So Grand Forks to Minneapolis wasn't bad, the flight attendant had a bit of a retarded Moon Bloodgood look going on, but that was about it. That and the fact that the ginormous lady next to me kept hitting me with her arm as I read Harry Potter & The Prisoner of Azkaban (yeah I'm like 10 years behind, so what?).
Minneapolis to San Francisco was fairly pedestrian compared to past tales. There was the couple who sat next to me that kept having the urge to feel each other up, which was uh...weird to say the least. This was also the first time that I had been on a flight to where I had people from behind me rush the front of the plane so they could get off first, even though I was in the 4th row...of the second section of coach (which was right by the exit, which was why I was a bit miffed).
The journey from the airport was exciting as well. First the BART doors on the train were locked for about 10 minutes, while people were in the train (LAME!). I finally got to the Powell stop and saw Mandi waiting for me (that was super awesome!). Then as we were walking to the bus stop we passed a "homeless" guy who let me know I was officially back in San Francisco by saying this to me: "Hey man, can you buy me a hooker? It's too hard to masturbate when you can't feel your fingers!"
Well that's this seasons incredible (?) installment of What's That Smell?. While I was home I was brainstorming some ideas about future entries, hopefully they don't suck.
Peace out who ever reads this.
Monday, December 26, 2011
It's The End of The Year As We Know It
Well, well, well. The year is coming to an end, and possibly the world unless John Cusack can save us and get us to one of those giant metal boats. I'd have to say that all and all this was a pretty good year for myself (and if anyone of the 3 people who reads this and the 75 others who just stumble upon it had a great year as well, high five!). I had some personal triumphs, made some important changes in my life for the better, and got my academic/professional life kinda somewhat maybe figured out.
Figures that I go through some of these things during the 25th year of my existence, maybe some of it was like a pre-midlife crisis. Hopefully not, but if so it better damn well help me when that shit happens for reals! I made some of the best most consistent and thought out work to date (by the time I write something like this again next year, unless the world ends (see above) I hope that will have trumped that work).
On the horizon I have some pretty daunting things to look forward to but, for once in long time I feel ready to kick that shit in the ass.
Well, gang (and whoever stumbles upon this (again see above)) I hope you had a great year and if not have a way better 2012. There will be more hilarious and awkward stories to look forward to next year. Hell, I'm getting ready to fly home again and maybe there is another chapter in the epic god damn saga of What's that Smell?
Figures that I go through some of these things during the 25th year of my existence, maybe some of it was like a pre-midlife crisis. Hopefully not, but if so it better damn well help me when that shit happens for reals! I made some of the best most consistent and thought out work to date (by the time I write something like this again next year, unless the world ends (see above) I hope that will have trumped that work).
On the horizon I have some pretty daunting things to look forward to but, for once in long time I feel ready to kick that shit in the ass.
Well, gang (and whoever stumbles upon this (again see above)) I hope you had a great year and if not have a way better 2012. There will be more hilarious and awkward stories to look forward to next year. Hell, I'm getting ready to fly home again and maybe there is another chapter in the epic god damn saga of What's that Smell?
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Random Stand Alone Story Time!!!!!!
RANDOM STAND ALONE STORY TIME!!!!!!
So here's the deal with this one, I was 20 at the time of this taking place. For Spring Break/Mandi & Megan's 21st birthday we went to Canada with some other people...who made the trip interesting in a few ways. But this is about one specific portion, specifically crossing the Canadian boarder to come back to the United States. Here we go.
We pull up to the window thing with the smug asshole at the gate. He asks why we are coming through, never mind the fact that we were all U.S. citizens and I had North Dakota license plates on my car; apparently I gave him a smart ass answer. Add in my long hair and I guess I was asking for what happened next.
He tells me to pull up ahead and asks us all to get out, then go in this small room. As we sit there I see them start to pull all the shit out of my car and looking at everything. They got to the trunk and pulled out my drawing supplies I kept in there for my Figure Drawing class. I see them pull out the pad and start flipping through it, while looking back at me as I wave. 10 minutes later we were let go. Oh, yeah did I forget to mention that inside that 18x24 drawing pad were dozens upon dozens of drawings of NAKED MEN?! By the way; it was a nude figure drawing class just in case you needed me to fill in the remaining blanks.
Memo to self: in the future (when I get another car) take all drawing pads out of the car when I go on car trips that take me to another country. Otherwise it could get interesting.
So here's the deal with this one, I was 20 at the time of this taking place. For Spring Break/Mandi & Megan's 21st birthday we went to Canada with some other people...who made the trip interesting in a few ways. But this is about one specific portion, specifically crossing the Canadian boarder to come back to the United States. Here we go.
We pull up to the window thing with the smug asshole at the gate. He asks why we are coming through, never mind the fact that we were all U.S. citizens and I had North Dakota license plates on my car; apparently I gave him a smart ass answer. Add in my long hair and I guess I was asking for what happened next.
He tells me to pull up ahead and asks us all to get out, then go in this small room. As we sit there I see them start to pull all the shit out of my car and looking at everything. They got to the trunk and pulled out my drawing supplies I kept in there for my Figure Drawing class. I see them pull out the pad and start flipping through it, while looking back at me as I wave. 10 minutes later we were let go. Oh, yeah did I forget to mention that inside that 18x24 drawing pad were dozens upon dozens of drawings of NAKED MEN?! By the way; it was a nude figure drawing class just in case you needed me to fill in the remaining blanks.
Memo to self: in the future (when I get another car) take all drawing pads out of the car when I go on car trips that take me to another country. Otherwise it could get interesting.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
YOU CAN'T BE NO NOVICE WHEN YOU HAVE THESE!!!!!
Here are some funny short stories, that involve me in the sense that I was there to witness them. Enjoy. Or not, what the hell.
1. A few weeks ago I went to the dollar store by my house, because I like to buy cheap shit and it makes me feel rich sometimes. Anyways, I bought a few things and then as I was standing in line the magic happened. This guy in a suit grabs Wassabi Cashews and says the following to me (please note I did not engage him first): "AH MAN, WASSABI CASHEWS!!!! YOU CAN'T BE NO NOVICE WHEN YOU HAVE THESE!" Then the woman in front of me starts complaining about the price...of the dollar store. Next thing I know her and Wasabi Cashew guy begin a discussion about where the cheapest place to get shit is. Here is the jist:
Woman: This is outrageous! $1.25 is too much for this. I'm going to go to the dollar store downtown.
Wassabi Cashew guy: Oh yeah that place has great stuff, but its out of my route.
Woman: Me too, but I'm going to make the time to go there.
Wassabi Cashew guy: I can't.
Woman: Actually you know where the best one is? In Chinatown. Everything is 69 cents.
Wassabi Cashew guy: Yeah, but do they have name brand stuff?
Unreal.
2. When I worked at a music store back home, we went to an old folks home to deliver a piano to a resident. As we walked in, I saw photos of all the residents on a bulletin board. Above it was text that said the following: WANTED BY GOD.
3. On the way to meet a sculptor downtown a few weeks ago, my awesome fiance and I were riding a bus through the shitty section of town since it was the most direct route. On the bus happened to be the world's worst rapper/beat boxer. For 15 stops we listened to this guy throw White people and Asian people under the proverbial bus for the plights of Black people while making beats and trying to sing a chorus to his song. The two funniest things about this were the fact that everyone was pissed of that he wouldn't shut up, yet no one said anything because there is nothing like witnessing a train wreck in person. The other funny thing was how his rants made NO factual or historical sense AT ALL. Just to give you a glimpse at this, he actually blamed White people for the assassination of Malcolm X.
1. A few weeks ago I went to the dollar store by my house, because I like to buy cheap shit and it makes me feel rich sometimes. Anyways, I bought a few things and then as I was standing in line the magic happened. This guy in a suit grabs Wassabi Cashews and says the following to me (please note I did not engage him first): "AH MAN, WASSABI CASHEWS!!!! YOU CAN'T BE NO NOVICE WHEN YOU HAVE THESE!" Then the woman in front of me starts complaining about the price...of the dollar store. Next thing I know her and Wasabi Cashew guy begin a discussion about where the cheapest place to get shit is. Here is the jist:
Woman: This is outrageous! $1.25 is too much for this. I'm going to go to the dollar store downtown.
Wassabi Cashew guy: Oh yeah that place has great stuff, but its out of my route.
Woman: Me too, but I'm going to make the time to go there.
Wassabi Cashew guy: I can't.
Woman: Actually you know where the best one is? In Chinatown. Everything is 69 cents.
Wassabi Cashew guy: Yeah, but do they have name brand stuff?
Unreal.
2. When I worked at a music store back home, we went to an old folks home to deliver a piano to a resident. As we walked in, I saw photos of all the residents on a bulletin board. Above it was text that said the following: WANTED BY GOD.
3. On the way to meet a sculptor downtown a few weeks ago, my awesome fiance and I were riding a bus through the shitty section of town since it was the most direct route. On the bus happened to be the world's worst rapper/beat boxer. For 15 stops we listened to this guy throw White people and Asian people under the proverbial bus for the plights of Black people while making beats and trying to sing a chorus to his song. The two funniest things about this were the fact that everyone was pissed of that he wouldn't shut up, yet no one said anything because there is nothing like witnessing a train wreck in person. The other funny thing was how his rants made NO factual or historical sense AT ALL. Just to give you a glimpse at this, he actually blamed White people for the assassination of Malcolm X.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Awesome
I've been to my fair share of concerts, and I have some good memories of them. One of them is seeing Guns N' Roses* in 2003 and getting handed a toy by Buckethead. My favorite one though would be the first time I saw Slayer in 2003. I'm not sure what it is that got me thinking about this, maybe it was just deciding to throw on a Slayer album the other day (World Painted Blood) or maybe it just randomly popped into my head during my daily 5 mile journey.
Here's what happened. We were in high school and had bought tickets to see Slayer on the 2003 Jagermeister tour. I went with my best friend and another friend of ours who decided to bring his dumb ass skanky girlfriend along (boo). My friend Ray and I were separated from our other friend and his skank. We were at the front on the left, while they were on the right. Show starts and bam! Craziness ensues.
When I was going there I was totally set that I wanted to see Dave Lombardo, because he's the fucking man, but as the show started Jeff Hanneman was right in front of me. The entire time. I couldn't believe it. Next thing I know, their set is halfway over and then Jeff Hanneman throws his pick RIGHT at me; the one he had played the entire first half of the show with, and some ass face knocks it away. Then the security guard picks it up and it seemed like time slowed down. The pick seemed to be sitting there for minutes. Just sitting there in his hand. I saw it and went for it, grabbed it while the asshole next to me went for it. I then open my hand and see it sitting there. The security guard saw that Hanneman had thrown it at me and when he saw that I got it, he high fived me. Than to top it off, Jeff Hanneman saw that I got it and screamed "YYYYYYYEAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" at me.
It. Was. Awesome.
Also Ray got a pick from him also.
Than I had to drive the 5 hrs back home as our dip shit friend didn't (and probably still doesn't) have his license, and I wasn't going to trust his girlfriend driving my car. So that's my favorite concert memory, and I still have the pick!
*As much as you can call it Guns N' Roses I guess. It was still a kick ass concert.
Here's what happened. We were in high school and had bought tickets to see Slayer on the 2003 Jagermeister tour. I went with my best friend and another friend of ours who decided to bring his dumb ass skanky girlfriend along (boo). My friend Ray and I were separated from our other friend and his skank. We were at the front on the left, while they were on the right. Show starts and bam! Craziness ensues.
When I was going there I was totally set that I wanted to see Dave Lombardo, because he's the fucking man, but as the show started Jeff Hanneman was right in front of me. The entire time. I couldn't believe it. Next thing I know, their set is halfway over and then Jeff Hanneman throws his pick RIGHT at me; the one he had played the entire first half of the show with, and some ass face knocks it away. Then the security guard picks it up and it seemed like time slowed down. The pick seemed to be sitting there for minutes. Just sitting there in his hand. I saw it and went for it, grabbed it while the asshole next to me went for it. I then open my hand and see it sitting there. The security guard saw that Hanneman had thrown it at me and when he saw that I got it, he high fived me. Than to top it off, Jeff Hanneman saw that I got it and screamed "YYYYYYYEAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" at me.
It. Was. Awesome.
Also Ray got a pick from him also.
Than I had to drive the 5 hrs back home as our dip shit friend didn't (and probably still doesn't) have his license, and I wasn't going to trust his girlfriend driving my car. So that's my favorite concert memory, and I still have the pick!
*As much as you can call it Guns N' Roses I guess. It was still a kick ass concert.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Clearing the Air
Maui wowie! It's been almost a month since I wrote on this doo hicky. I would have wrote something sooner, but I a) didn't have anything to mention and b) I just didn't care to.
Since I switched back into fine arts, I've noticed a few things about the people around me, from both my old Graphic Design days and also Printmaking. I know, I know; another thing about this blah blah blah... What I have noticed is that quite a few people who I go to class with simply just don't care about what they are doing or trying to earn (a masters degree), it's amazing. I mean the school we go to is not the cheapest in the world, so you figure that you would want to put in as much time and thought as you can right? I guess not for some people. I mean it's graduate school, it is supposed to be harder and you are supposed to produce better, more thought out, and consistent work. Yet there are some people I know who just don't give a damn. To them it seems like "let's experiment and do whatever we want without trying to become well rounded artists". The only reason I can remotely guess, is because it's easier when your parents are flipping the bill than yourself.
As for Graphic Design, I find it...interesting how students are trained to be ahead of the curve and change peoples way of thinking about social issues, yet everyone does the same dry boring ideas. Processed food this, evil corporations this, blah blah blah. To me that lacks originality in a big way. Also a side note to that; how is it that they are expected to change the world with Graphic Design? Is seeing a poster that was made out of recycled paper telling me I'm a bad person if I don't do this or that going to change my mind? One other thing that I have noticed also is how much fluff people put into their projects. It's super dry and boring, and they make it even more dry and boring by dressing it up using a thesaurus. Bravo.
I don't know about anyone else, but I see through all of this and it frustrates me on many levels. People who don't give a shit about what they are doing and also people who try to change the world by making you feel bad about yourself. And fluffing up a dry shitty topic.
I promise this is the last time I bitch about this for a while. :)
Since I switched back into fine arts, I've noticed a few things about the people around me, from both my old Graphic Design days and also Printmaking. I know, I know; another thing about this blah blah blah... What I have noticed is that quite a few people who I go to class with simply just don't care about what they are doing or trying to earn (a masters degree), it's amazing. I mean the school we go to is not the cheapest in the world, so you figure that you would want to put in as much time and thought as you can right? I guess not for some people. I mean it's graduate school, it is supposed to be harder and you are supposed to produce better, more thought out, and consistent work. Yet there are some people I know who just don't give a damn. To them it seems like "let's experiment and do whatever we want without trying to become well rounded artists". The only reason I can remotely guess, is because it's easier when your parents are flipping the bill than yourself.
As for Graphic Design, I find it...interesting how students are trained to be ahead of the curve and change peoples way of thinking about social issues, yet everyone does the same dry boring ideas. Processed food this, evil corporations this, blah blah blah. To me that lacks originality in a big way. Also a side note to that; how is it that they are expected to change the world with Graphic Design? Is seeing a poster that was made out of recycled paper telling me I'm a bad person if I don't do this or that going to change my mind? One other thing that I have noticed also is how much fluff people put into their projects. It's super dry and boring, and they make it even more dry and boring by dressing it up using a thesaurus. Bravo.
I don't know about anyone else, but I see through all of this and it frustrates me on many levels. People who don't give a shit about what they are doing and also people who try to change the world by making you feel bad about yourself. And fluffing up a dry shitty topic.
I promise this is the last time I bitch about this for a while. :)
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