Wednesday, March 27, 2013

I'm Putting A Gang Together

I've been thinking recently how I want to put a gang together.

A real, mean gang that messes people up.

A gang of old guys.

And I want them to be unique in their own way. So, I did some looking around town and I feel I've recruited the best of the best.

Naturally there needed to be one guy who leads...



And another guy who does machines...



For street cred purposes we should have a guy who's cool but rude...



And obviously every gang needs their own party dude...



I'll advise them on what they should be doing with wise words but for the most part hang back in the shadows and not fight with them. I'm kind of too scared to engage in actual fights. Anyway, how do you think we look as a gang? Ready to rumble with the Hand Clan? The Mincer? Jazz Musicians fluent in bebop or other musicians who just plain rock steady? Do you get the fucking joke yet?

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

How This Irishman Sprained His Wrist

When: Saturday, March 16th, 2013. Yeah I know that was a few days ago. This is a story that spans a few days. Shut up.

I go to a St. Patty's Day party. The night before actual St. Patty's Day. Clearly, since I stated it was the 16th above. Shut up and keep up! It's a natural drink fest. I drink a lot. My buddy is my DD, I have nothing to worry about. I drink some mixed drinks, I drink some beer, I do a few rounds of Irish Car Bombs...this is how I look.


This is how I feel.


I may have been a little drunk. Anyway, the night progresses and then it turns out people are doing American Gladiator style wrestling matches...throwing each other into inflatable pools of water. Do you really think I'm turning down THAT offer? Yeah no one actually extended the offer to me but I went and did it anyway.

Steve Throws Someone Into A Pool - 1
Steve Gets Thrown Into Pool - Steve Loses Track After 10

Whatever it was fun to play! I dry off and change, the party progresses and the rest of the night is much fun! We return home. "My wrist hurts a lot, all of a sudden!" Steve exclaimed now feeling pain that had probably already been there for hours seeing as how the alcohol is beginning to wear off. "I shall ice it!"

What a smart guy. Reacting so quickly...hours after the injury was probably sustained.

When: Sunday, March 17th, 2013.

I wake up the next morning and I cannot move my right wrist without feeling extraordinary pain. I can't wipe my butt righty anymore. Can't brush my teeth righty anymore. I have to start doing everything lefty and it's very difficult. Even putting on my own damn clothes is a chore! I mean putting on clothes day in and day out is a chore anyway (don't get me wrong, nudists) but now it has become even more tedious and annoying of a chore! So, what do I do?

Thursday, March 7, 2013

Wham! A Sweet Parking Spot!

Drove into work today. Seemed like any other day. But little did I know it would turn out special-er than Unicorn Farts. Drove into our parking garage and as I turned the first corner someone began to pull out of one of the Reserved Spaces. They seemed to not see me at first but then realized I was nearing them so they stopped to let me by.

Now normally what do you do?

You live in LA...Oh OK so you take them stepping on their brakes as a sign of weakness, speed by them muttering something about them being an idiot driver for no reason at all...just because they were kind of near you at one point.

Why do so many drivers, especially in LA, do this? Why must the person be an idiot? I try not to be this way but most times I will still speed by because I always like to go first and get the "right of way" while driving. I don't know why, I always drive like that. For whatever reason I decided...I'll brake. I'll wave them on and I'll let them go by first.

I'm assuming it's one of the big-wigs, one of the head cheeses, one of the boss men, head honcho, chief of the tribe, captain of the ship, other stupid terms for people who work in offices and make a lot of money and have many people working below them. The person is pulling out of a Reserved Space, those are only for those people. Turns out it's not. It's a friend I work with. She backs up, sees it's me and pulls up next to me rolling her window down. (Well, she didn't roll her window down, she pushed a button that made it go down because we aren't cavemen anymore and this is 2013.)

I roll my window down and she says hi and thanks for letting her out, then notifies me that it looked like a Reserved Space but it wasn't...instead a regular space any commonfolk like me can use and it's just right next to all the Reserved Spaces...and it's a killer spot! She tells me to take it since she's leaving for lunch. I pull into the spot, happy I don't have to keep driving up and up the garage looking for a spot, the most tedious and angering of LA Tasks. As I pull in, "Wake Me Up Before You Go Go" comes on! What?! Have the Gods (or giant meteors crashing into each other, depending on your views) smiled upon me?

So, here's the skinny folks. The reason I've shared this with you. You'll hear it a thousand times, and guess what...you're gonna hear it again! Be nice and you'll have a nice life. I was kind on the road, a rarity here, and I got a killer parking spot and Wham! descended into my life. Yes I waited in my car until the song was done...yes I had a short walk into the office from my Almost-Executive-Parking-Spot...yes I'm in a great mood and still have the song playing in my head hours later. Let it be a lesson to you. Be Kind, Bitches!

Monday, March 4, 2013

The Tate, The Tube and Afternoon Tea

I just got back from London, it was my first time there and it was incredible! Naturally, since it was my first time there, I had to do lots of touristy sightseeing and other "British things". The first full day I was there I walked so I could take a lot in. The next few days I decided I'd ride the tube, a daunting task for me. "It's underground!" "It goes so fast!" "There's so many people on it, what if they're mean?!" "Isn't that where Javier Bardem almost kills James Bond and a mess of other people?!" Turns out it wasn't too bad, for what I used it for, it was easy enough. Although I did make a few mistakes.

I wanted to seem like I was from there. Not look like a doofy tourist who needs help with everything. So I wanted to ride the tube with ease. The first day I fucked up immediately. Went to the wrong spot, thinking it was the station, but it was the construction site where the new edition of the station would be opening in like 4 years. The station was right across the street from my blind ass, and also mainly my blind eyes. My ass being blind is virtually irrelevant. Then, when I tried to get in I scanned my card incorrectly. An employee showed me the correct way, in front of PLENTY of people. Failure. The next day was a little better except for when I tried my card...in the correct spot mind you...I realized I was scanning it at a turnstyle that was clearly out of order. I did not realize it until it was brought to my attention by a Japanese tourist passing by who clearly spoke less English than me. Come on Steve! It's the same language as you speak just with a sweet accent! Out of order...still means out of order! No crazy chips - fries, crisps - chips, biscuits - cookies, confusing conversion there!



So, the third day, I was determined to use the tube without any mistakes. And you know what? I did! Rode it all the way to my destination, no fuck ups on the way. Didn't fall over or bounce around too much when it would stop and accelerate like I was the first two days. Rode it back to the hotel with ease, totally looked like a hardcore Brit who rides the tube every day. I know it! People around me must have been impressed with how sheerly awesome I was. Until I walked out of the station onto the crowded street, finally back above ground, and wouldn't you know it, a crazed pigeon flew up off of the ground and decided to flap within a 10 foot radius of me...well who wouldn't freak out like their life was about to end? Well, a hardcore Brit who rides the tube every day probably wouldn't...but I did. Shielding my face and my life from a bird that hardly came anywhere near me. Well, there goes that fantasy I had of looking cool.



Though another fantasy of mine seems like it still could come true. Becoming an artist. When I had ridden the tube earlier it was to the Tate, that was my destination. The Tate is a museum for those of you who don't know. And if you also don't know, like I didn't, the Tate Modern is not the only branch of it. There is the classic Tate (like classic Coke) with lots of classical art, then there's the Tate Modern (like a Coke promotion that lasts a week) with modern art...which was where I went. Now before we go any further, I would like to say, I feel I can appreciate many types of art and that I have an open mind. I may not be the most cultured person, but I get it. I get most symbolism. And I can also understand that many things are probably past my understanding and I'm OK with that. For instance, here's a 3D something-or-other in the Tate Modern that I may or may not have been allowed to take a picture of...