Soccer Chicks

It’s been an interesting last couple of days as I’ve moved into my new apartment. It’s nothing spectacular but it beats living out in the cold, or at least what you would call the cold. The temperature as of late has been in the mid 50s, which for south Florida is absolutely freezing. Any time [...]

Dave

Whenever I go out drinking with my friend Dave, I know two things are bound to happen by the end of the night. One: I won’t be wearing pants. Two: Dave will pee on everyone I love. Not literally, of course. But whenever he gets drunk he has a habit of teasing me about things like my mother’s weight or my brother’s cerebral palsy. That’s just the way some guys get their kicks I guess. While he’s running his mouth about the woman who gave birth to me I usually just sit back and drink my beer. But this time he went too far.

I started ‘officially’ dating a Native American stripper a few days ago and I just knew Dave would give me a hard time about it.Sure enough, the next time I saw him at the bar he started running his mouth about my girl’s profession and that’s when it happened. I snapped.

“Listen pal, talk all the crap you want about my mother, but I’ll be damned if I let you drag Dances-For-Money’s name through the mud!”

Needless to say he and I don’t hang out anymore. Oh well.

the day god ran out of pancakes (a title)

One of the more disheartening occurrences in life is being at the library, eager to check out a book, only to find out it has already been loaned out to someone else. Inevitably, the mind begins to wonder. Who else was interested enough in this title to take it home for a couple weeks? Was it a man or a woman? Young or old? I know the library doesn’t give out these personal details, and with good reason. So I’ll never find out who this mystery person is. And yet, there is still an urge to reach out to them and say, “Hey, what did you think of the book? How did it make you feel? What was your favorite part? Did you just pick it up on a whim? It’s so nice to know there’s someone out there reading Rimbaud [or whomever].” So in my attempt to communicate with these strangers with great tastes, I’ve started the practice of leaving a note inside books I return. Nothing major, just a small post-it note with a couple random thoughts & musings scribbled down. So while I may not be able to speak with those who have checked the book out in the past, maybe I can still leave an impression on those who have yet to read it in the future.

(btw, this is one picture I did not take.)

ducks, ducks everywhere

I’m a physics-nerd. I enjoy reading all about the science behind parallel dimensions. Sometimes, I like to imagine an alternate reality in which I’m a famous painter or rock star. Or one where it actually ended up working out between that One Girl & I, and we’re both ducks in a long-term, monogamous relationship.

(I’m enjoying my new camera and I like the turn this blog has taken as of late. It’s given me renewed interest in blogging, if only just to add a quick caption to a picture I took.)

& the hare.

The crowd never dies. A continuous blur of faces; a revolving door of generations filled with green laughter. “They can live for over a hundred and fifty years,” said the zookeeper. And he wondered if his son was looking at the same tortoise his father took him to see as a child.

alleycat

There’s something about looking down a long narrow path. A concrete carpet laid out indefinitely. There’s something about the parallels that are formed that appeals to me. It can happen anywhere. An empty hospital late at night, you pause to look over your shoulder and see a dimly lit hallway that disappears at some point [...]