March 18th, 2018

spliff mon

My N-fluenza

Here's a comment I made to an LJ friend...

Have you ever TASTED Slipshod Caviar?! It tastes like chicken...

Actually, you should trust my skills here. But since you got used to the band's real name, then of course you would find my name weird... BUT...

Really, it's not as weird as, "Chernobyl Sky Biscuits," which was one of my ideas for a band name, which a very cool friend really liked. I also thought another good name for a band would be, "The Free Radicals." A Psych major friend liked that but then said it should be, "The Free Radical SCAVENGERS." But I didn't like that because then that would make it a band of conservatives, lol.

On DJ in Madison asked people to call in with a new name for his avant-garde radio show. I suggested, "Flintstones Graveyard." He liked it and used it as the new name.

Lots of other examples like this. Too bad I never got my own band to name. I was born to rock but that never happened.



So - I have been meaning to start a tag named "my influence". Because I have found there are so many little examples of how I have pathetically influenced the world. This is true of all of us, to some degree or another. There is no line between how we influence each other directly, or how we pick up things subliminally, (a la George Harrison's "My Sweet Lord aka "He's So Fine"), or how we scoop things out of the soup of collective conscious or subconscious, psychically. The whole realm of "Psychics" is a fascinating area of study!

So, I have to limit myself to real influences I have made, which could be proved by scientific method. My letters or associations have made little tweaks in presidential campaigns, or in the course of activism in Ye Olde City. A joke I made ended up as a commercial: "We have more condoms than you can shake a stick at!"

And, like it or not, I am the sole creator of the word, "Co-inky-dink," which I released in Southern California and which has since been propagated by Stephanie Miller, so that it just might end up in dictionaries. It started with me looking at the spelling of 'coincidence', and noticing that the first four letters were COIN. I was a big coin collector. I played with the word, changing the 'c' pronunciations to 'k' pronunciations. The new word is meant to convey how cute and novel coincidences can be.

Don't think I am vain. In all actuality, I am composed of millions of bits of information all borrowed from other people and from history. So, mapping out the few influences I have made is just a little game to remind myself that I still exist. More later.
spliff mon

Travels With Darby

Isn't it fun how people endlessly continue to blame you for their own problems? It just never fucking ends. Like, there's the old bald guy downstairs who starts stomping around after my dog lies down with slightly a little too much oomph. And he runs to his living room to flash his light when I am out in the morning with my dog. And he coughs and coughs deliberately and obnoxiously as I am outside letting my dog find peace enough to take a shit.

But, wait, there is some new neighbour across the way, creepilly leaning over his porch railing, shouting at me about my dog - but he only does this when there is a bunch of other blacks walking around - blacks who, btw, happen to have learnt to respect me and my dog. So, this new dude must needs to either swallow his phlegm or find out who he's dealing with.

Yesterday was St. Pat's and no one bothered to bother me. It started back up today - and I also woke up to find that I now have the flu. Life is so fleeting, it's a wonder we ever evolved from sheep. Some jokes are so out-there they aren't even worth smiling at...

My friend, Rhys Darby, is also a bit like Mike Meyers, especially with the one smaller, cranky eye. So, if you put these two together, add a booming voice, and subtract the comedy, then this is my friend Rhys Darby, the bus-driver.

Rhys Darby says his wife is four inches taller than him. Rhys Darby declares he is doing god's work when we talk about music. Rhys Darby says that, even though he has only dated two girls, he doesn't find blondes to be all that attractive.

Well, I don't find hair-colour to be a game-changer, to me. I think there are far more important factors. Hair colour is superficial - (or unless it is artificial, maybe sometimes, like pink or blue of camouflage). Anyway, I could always say, "Change you hair, ho!" Right? Because I am enlightened that way.

So I told Rhys Darby about when I worked at that trendy restaurant in Madison, which was full of Northern girls - all blonde. I dated them all. Then one Jewish friend, whom I avoided cuz she was short with lumpy calves, gossipped that, "He only dates blonde girls!" Well, seriously, I responded, "That's all there ARE here!" Seriously, I was forced into dating blonde girls, but I have also learnt that many times, blonde girls are attracted to me. It's a genetic thing. To think that they imagine me being some kind of Mediterranean machismo. BUT, I will say this in my defense: The Irish accent has been voted the most sexy in the world. So, I hold on to the belief that there is some kind of little thing in Irishness which can fend for itself in the bedroom, never-mind the gigantic penis stuff.

Two aside notes: I ran into that Jewish Friend once, in the University mall. We ran towards each other, shouting. Then we hugged and twirled around, like a movie, yo. But BEFORE any movie, right? This is the stuff that WRITES movies. She is a wonderful girl. But, my life was beginning it's fall-apart, and she ended up being a little disoriented by me. It's so sad that women always have to take their cues from men. That's one thing that makes them insufficient, to me. But, that is what works for evolutionary purposes so, far be it from me to want more for myself than Nature ever wanted for our species.

I had a somewhat similar encounter once. It killed me - broke my heart - changed me.... I was uncertain in my life. Wandering around, after HS. A friend with tiny, deformed arms was walking around in a mall. In HS, some people used to joke about him, and his ARMenian ancestors... All my life, I have tried to support the marginal and disadvantaged, admittedly more than anyone you will ever know! But, in earlier days, I also had a wayward insecurity which easilly turned my humour into biting cruelty.

So, when I saw this guy across this mall, I yelled and swung open my arms, running towards him almost as in a joke. But he ran towards me, as well, and rapped his sad lost arms somewhat around me. I tell you, There are some terrible, educating moments in life, That was one of them,. I have paid off this sin a thousand times but I would not be surprised, if there ver happened to be a Purgatory, I would end up there for an eternity because iof it. That is how deep I feel about some things, and luckilly so, but so, so painfully so!

What else? ... (I forgot, for now. Maybe check back later?...)

I went shopping yesterday. My first stop was at a pizza joint. There was a cute blonde at the counter who seemed to have an interest in me. Confirmed, she had told another worker and that worker was eying me. Let me tell you what it is. It's the pony tail. I have lush pony tail which is beautifully coloured, like the colour I had when I was a wee tike. I have no idea why girls find this superficial thing attractive. For all I know, it is what is also attracting Rhys Darby to me. It's just elongated protein!

"I'll have the gluten-free crust."

"Is this because of an allergy?"

Well, this little prompt for conversation was just a meme I have heard before here. So, I was let down. It was unoriginal. I answered it with humble flair. But I was outta there.

Finally, at the supermarket, I get a check-out girl who is under 21 years old, (because she was not allowed to check-out my beer). And there was another PYT doing the bagging, who hailed me. The check-out girl had the same coloured hair as me. But she had this haggard, poor white trash look to her. When she gave me the recipt, we both made a point of touching each others' hands longingly. Then I asked for two paper bags, pointing downwards. She bent down and grabbed some.

"Will three worK?"

Her style of doing this was so seductive. She looked up at me with big Amanda Seyfried eyes, and deliberately prolonged her 'K'.... cuhhh....

It just causes me wonderment. I am usually never in the frame of mind to flirt or to take down numbers, because I usually have a headache, or such. And/or I am racing to get to the next appointment. And I made some kind of spiritual commitment to myself never to get involved in this town, which should be transitional. The whole place is so dysfunctional, I would only set myself up for problems if I ever got involved - and my illness cannot handle problems. But it is always nice to know that girls/women keep finding me attractive, even if most of the credit goes to something that could as well be a hairpiece.

Rhys Darby dropped me off, and this time I took his number. Something he did really bothered me, which is a stance I despise and I might post about later. I really don't have time to expend energy on much more in my life. So, who knows. He wants to "visit"

Right, so, from one of these actors, I now have the flu. My voice is two octaves lower. I have the perfect solution. Wine!

Which reminds me... I bought GF beer during this escapade. But GUINNESS was on sale for $5.99 a pack - extra stout. I bought this NON-GF beer! It turned out to be absolutely fabulous! But I also bought another GUINNESS pack of "NITRO" IPA, also on sale for the same price. Why did I ALSO have to buy this beer? Because I have a theory that I need to increase my nitric oxide - which is something promised in beets and in Viagra. (I am not talking about sex, I am talking about etc.) This latter beer did nothing for me, either way. GUINNESS NITRO is a waste of time.

But, yeah, I have been sampling these WHEAT beers, in addition to having the flu, so god knows what will become of me. With the flue, at least I have a good excuse to avoid Rhys Darby. I gave him a mixy CD, btw.

Time is what I want. I want time to get me past this crappy flu.... With CFS, anything like this just lingers for weeks, adding to the cumulative load....
spliff mon

Margo Price

I really tuned into Margo Price with the song, "Hands of Time."  This was a wonderful appeal to the American Working Class, as good as I have heard anything done by Iris Dement.

Margo Price: ‘Country music is about divorce, drinking and jail.

Tonight, she has an interview on NPR's, "World Cafe," which I am jumping the shark just to get to you, even though it is a repeat, lol. So, hear more about this wonderful musician at NPR - hmmmm.... I guess search this: https://www.bing.com/search?q=npr+world+cafe+margo+price&pc=MOZI&form=MOZLBR

If you don't have Mozilla, please let me know if this link screws you up, sorry if it might have...