flight of the conchords

Rios loves Flight of the Conchords. I pretend that I don't like them. But they're funny. Sometimes. She rented the DVD, which is now overdue. She's watched the season...twice. She listens to it in the car all the time. It's not so bad, but the songs aren't really good song-wise (like Tenacious D, for example), so it's basically like listening to a comedy sketch over, and over...

Bought some stuff at Atomik Pop, today:

language

I am obsessed with learning Spanish. Every course is a language course. If you're taking Spanish, you learn that these words, in this sequence, stands for this idea. If you're taking Botany, in the same way, you need to learn the language. Take the word "xylem." You might build a little word bridge in your mind, i.e. xylem = tissue that conducts water in vascular plants, but what you really need to do is destroy that bridge and set the tiny islands of thought like transparencies on top of each other, until you understand the words qua the words, the same way when you see "agua" and you think "water" in English, you should be thinking of WATER, the stuff you drink, otherwise you'll be a translator, a human Babel Fish, instead of a speaker of Spanish or Botany. Compartamentalize ideas into the shorthand of words, make it second nature. Every course, I'll say again, is a language course.

stray dog

Today there was a fat-ass labrador wandering across the road in the neighborhood that I drive through on my way home. I pulled my car over and got out and said "Come here." He smiled and listened. He licked my hand, not really shy or excited, blind in his left eye, no tag on his collar, eager to get back to sniffing the grass.

I looked at the houses in the neighborhood. I shrugged and decided to start ringing doorbells. I left my car on the side of the road, running, and made my way up the sidewalk toward the first house I saw and turned and the dog was standing in the road, looking at me. I started towards it, and I shouted, "Get the hell out of the road. The fuck is wrong with you?" He bumbled up onto to the sidewalk, keeping his head cocked, so he could see me with his good eye.

I grabbed him by the collar, intent on taking him to each house with me, but a hundred pound dog doesn't go where a hundred pound dog doesn't want to go, and he had grass to sniff. He licked my hands a couple more times, saying, "Hey, man, it's cool. Let me do my thing." I watched him trot along the grass between the sidewalk and the road, sniffing, maybe going home, and I got back in my car and drove away.

holiday season request #1

Don't go to a store near closing time. Seriously.

If you glance at the clock and your desired retailer is 30 minutes from closing, and you absolutely must go, it's like a life or death thing, then go, because there's obviously something specific that you can run in, grab, and purchase all before closing time.

If you glance at the clock and your desired retailer is 30 minutes from closing and you think, oh, I'll have a few minutes to just glance around, you are a piece of shit.

Don't go. Stay home.

kahlua hates leashes

"Come on, Kahlua. Wanna go outside?"

"I would love to take a walk."

"You're a good girl."

"Thank you."

"Here's your leash."

"NO. NO. A THOUSAND TIMES NO."

"Kahlua, quit fucking around, put your leash on."

"I WILL NOT."

"Dog, you know we can't go outside till you put this on. We do this every day, and it never changes anything."

"WOULDST THOU NOT COWER UNDER THE MASTER'S LASH THE HUNDREDTH TIME SAME AS THE FIRST???"

"Jesus Christ. Here. Would you like a potato chip?"

"I would love one, thank you-- OH YOU'VE DISTRACTED ME."

"There. Now let's go for a walk."

"I am so melancholy."

"Quit being a baby."

"Sigh. I just...my, the air is fresh. And look, Father, over there! A squirrel! Oh the butterflies, how they tickle my nose! How the leaves crunch delightfully beneath my paws! How the sun shines upon my cool fur! Nature, you truly are God's gift to dogs. I believe I'll take a shit."

Obama Wins

I am so fucking elated.

Been saying it for a while now.

I love this country.

"Rocknrolla" was very cool. I liked it a lot. I think Guy Ritchie is one of my favorite filmmakers. "What??" you say. "He made 'Swept Away'. And 'Revolver' made no sense."

But you see, that why I like him. He fucks up. It adds character. He's obviously talented, but sometimes the bitch wife demands a starring role, and love can make a man do crazy things. And sometimes a man tries to be like Lynch, and really, only Lynch can be Lynch, except for sometimes Miike, another fuckup that I love dearly. What I'm saying is, when he's on, he's on, and when he's not, he's human.

The movie has gangsters, rock stars, Russians, and loud, awesome music. There's also a painting. It's sort of like the suitcase in Pulp Fiction, except in Pulp Fiction we all know the suitcase holds Marcellus Wallace's soul. In "Rocknrolla", we have no idea what's in the painting. It's the property of a Russian gangster, who calls it his "lucky painting." It captivates whoever looks at it, and it changes hands several times throughout the film.

What could be in the painting that is so enthralling> Oh, come now. I think we both know.




God. Just looking at Statham puts hair on my nuts.