Prepare yourself for randomness…

I had the best sushi, ever. It was from SanSu and is called the SanSu Roll. Per the online menu, it’s made up of eel, salmon, tuna, avocado, cucumber, tamango w/ spicy/sweet sauce and is lightly battered. It was perfect, I swear. SanSu also serves a sake called Ozeki Nigori Unfiltered. It was great. In fact, it’s the only sake that I can say I’ve really enjoyed the flavor of.

Cyclo was recommended to me. Has anyone seen it? If so, message me.

I experienced a most magical TV moment, the other day. I was at the Tropical Cafe and the A-Team was on. At one point, Mr. T jumped out of a wedding cake with an uzi and started shooting the bad guys. I don’t even know what to say… I almost choked on a pickle!

Last week, my blood-sugar went from zero to ohfuck! in such a short period of time that I was forced to eat the food closest to me - McDonalds. While there, I overheard a conversation between an employee and one of the customers. The employee spoke of something good that happened to her and the customer responded with, “That’s a good blessing!” Wow. I’m glad that she threw ‘good’ in there as the employee that she was speaking with could have confused it with one of those pesky, bad blessings.

I saw a guy walking with a cane the other day. He didn’t actually need it; it was used to emphasize his pimptitude. He was wearing the usual matching, velour outfit thingy with an unbent hat, dew-rag, and shoes that were not velour, but matched in color the rest of the outfit. The cane was the finishing touch, I guess. I’m curious as to what’s next with the trend of using medical aids in this manner. Crutches with bling? Iron lung?

During a preview at the theater, the announcer stated something about ‘eye-popping adventure.’ I’ve never liked that figure of speech; ‘eye-popping.’ Call me crazy, but I’m going to steer clear of adventure that is capable of popping my eyes. That just doesn’t sound fun.

In that same evening, I saw the trailer for Silent Hill. It was a pretty scary video game. The trailer was good and I’m totally intrigued. It’s been awhile since I saw a horror flick that was at all good.

I like Terrence Howard and William Fichtner.

I drove by Hooter’s of Lansing. The sign’s lights were burned out so that the sign simply read, ‘Ho’s.’ I’m glad that they’re finally being honest with themselves.

Thinking about the concept of Botox… People actually choose to render parts of their face motionless? That’s pretty fucked up. Would it be possible to get a restraining order against everyone who does that? Is there a form that I’d need to fill out or something? Let me know…

A missive that I wrote into my phone the other night while at a show: Dear pseudo-punk scenesters, why wear the shiny, studded, look-at-me belts if you’re just going to let your pants hang way below your ass anyway? Don’t say fashion - your boney ass hanging out is not fashionable. At all.

I’ve noticed, recently, that I don’t physically greet people in the way that most 25 year olds do. The starts-high, sort of telegraphed low-five followed by the grip and shake bit? I don’t do that. I just shake hands. No snap, no twisting movement. I have a feeling that I’m going to be one of those old men who yells at the neighborhood children for walking on my lawn.

This isn’t popular, but who cares. I like puns. There, I said it.

Grab your camera and take a good, straight-on shot of your face. Then, go here and follow the steps needed to determine what you’d look like if you were of a different ethnicity. You can also see yourself as a work of art or as an ape.

I want this book. This one, too.

I’m most excited for this film. I’m pleased that so many important things are being done with cinema, lately.

Anyone ever hear of The Rock Bottom Remainders? It’s a band who’s member’s include Mitch Albom, Dave Barry, and Stephen King. Weird, right?

I love James Lipton. I love everything James Lipton, in fact. I can’t get enough of Will Ferrell’s impression of him. That skit-series was the only funny thing on SNL for a couple of years, straight, I say. The funniest thing that I’ve seen today is a video of James Lipton rapping. Sounds great, right? It gets better. Instead of him rapping something at all legitimate, he does a verse from the most useless human on the planet’s material. No, not Paris Hilton. Understandable mistake, though. His choice of inspiration comes from none other than the Notorious F.E.D., Kevin Federline! The source material can be viewed here. Pretty lame song… MC Lipton’s version is better, I say. Thar she blows. I love it!

I’m really enjoying the following albums: Saul Williams - Saul Williams, Dire Straights - Brothers In Arms, Dj Format - If You Can’t Join ‘Em… Beat ‘Em, Handsome Boy Modeling School - White People, Mary J. Blige - The Breakthrough, Ravi Shankar - Three Ragas, Talking Heads - Once In A Lifetime, The Strokes - [all three albums], Harvey Danger - Little by Little. [This one is free. You can download it right from their website.] I recommend listening to each of them, all-the-way through, like, every day. Screw your homework.

You’ve always been technicolor to me, Jeni.

Untouchable

That bit about me being emotional was no joke.  I just cried because of a craigslist.org post.  I swear I’m going to be the next Bright Eyes.

Thanks Dad.. Tonight was your birthday, and I didn’t really get the chance to say all of the things I wanted to say about you in my toast tonight at Clydes, somewhere between the martini’s and the old family friends, something got lost and we never really got the chance to talk. Anyway for you, and the whole world to see….

* Thanks for supporting me over the last 25 years of my life
* Thanks for insisting that I go to college
* Thanks for all the advice and knowledge over the years
* Thanks for kicking my ass when you caught me smoking pot in high school
* Thanks for having a toke with me when you caught me smoking pot in college
* Thanks for the advice after I got laid off, and not letting me call my former boss (after several drinks)
* Thanks for not telling mom about that reckless driving ticket
* Thanks for showing me, that even you, are not perfect
* Thanks for showing me the beauty of triscuts, cheese, and tobasco in the microwave at 2 in the morning
* Thanks for helping me work on my car
* Thanks for telling me that last girlfriend was fake, I wish I listened
* Thanks for showing me the right way to treat a woman
* Thanks for introducing me to great music, even when all of my friends were listening to Vanilla Ice and Mc Hammer
* Thanks for teaching me how to ski
* Thanks for always loving, caring, and supporting my mother
* Thanks for pretending not to notice the scratch I put in your brand new BMW
* Thanks for letting your stupid 16 year old son borrow aforementioned BMW to pick up girls
* Thanks for listening to me tonight and taking a cab home, you guys were in no shape to drive

And most important, thanks for making me into the man that I am today. If I can do even half the job you did as a father, everything is going to be great! Happy 60th.. Your son

I keep saying that I’m going to actually put time into getting better at photography, but then I take a bunch of pictures like these [half-drunken, without aim]…

Jeni with mouth ajar.

She was teaching me how to pose.

Matt says hello.  Joe counts sheep.

Jeff didn’t start the fire.  Billy Joel did.

Soon after, I grabbed my partner… doh see doh.

Matt insists that I have another drink.

What are you cradling, Adam?

Adam gets me back for this.

Joe is being provocative.

Jessie’s hair-color is ever-changing.

Parker says ‘no’ to Silk.

Cats love having their picture taken.  My finger does, too.

Big head, I know you’re the one.  [wtf is up with Jeff?]

When Joe has the camera, I look up.

Though, sometimes I point.

Ok, now you’re pretty much in my nose.

Strange pic.  I’m upside-down, or something.

I like Parker’s clock.

I’d like a bass guitar.  I won’t be buying one until after the move, but if I found $2200 in my jean-pocket, I’d buy this [my own design]:

This is great. Be sure to turn subtitles on. Oh, and screw Mr. Rogers. Lo Pan is always the victor.

I caught some coverage of the middle-school shooting in Florida while at lunch today. The talking head stated that, “…the student then pointed the gun in a threatening manner at an officer…” Here’s a news-flash for you, Mr. Talking Head; there aren’t very many non-threatening manners in which a gun can be pointed at someone. Thanks for the redundancy, though. Do me a favor and perform seppuku as soon as you can.

Since we’re on the topic of news…

(CNN) — Evangelist Pat Robertson apologized in a Wednesday letter for saying that the major stroke suffered by Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon was divine retribution for “dividing God’s land.”

The apology — offered in a letter to Sharon’s son, Omri — followed a threat by Israel to exclude Robertson from a proposed $50 million Christian heritage site in northern Israel.

“My zeal, my love of Israel and my concern for the future safety of your nation led me to make remarks which I can now view in retrospect as inappropriate and insensitive in light of a national grief experienced because of your father’s illness,” Robertson wrote.

Funny how he backtracks as soon as the threat of being bumped from the Christian Heritage project is on the table. Does anyone else find it hard to believe the whole “My zeal, my love of Israel” bit from a guy who, in August said that “…God would bring judgment against Israel…” for its withdrawal from Gaza?

For the record, I don’t see how Robertson’s stating that Sharon deserved the stroke could be out of “concern for the future safety…” of the Nation of Israel. Countries in transitional periods [such as being in between leaders] are quite vulnerable.

Where’s his personal integrity as a conversational partner with god? If it’s retribution, it’s retribution, whether insensitive or not. God’s never been much on sensitivity-training for his prophets. He’s more of a ‘tell it like it is’ sort of guy, according to biblical evidence.

Pat, I hate to be the uneducated, 25 year-old atheist that gives you advice, but perhaps you should stop citing God every time something awful happens to people. I’m hard pressed to find even a Christian that believes that you and God are on speaking-terms. I guess what I’m trying to say is that you’re full of shit and God [whoever that may be] probably knows it.

I don’t like belly-button rings.  I don’t know why, they just never look good to me.  Eyebrow rings don’t, either.

I don’t pull out into the turn lane, ever.

I’m assertive, but laid back.  Go figure.

I don’t drink much soda, but I love it.  Mexican Coke, ginger beer, and orange-cream are my favorites.  Now that I think about it, I dig orange-cream anything.

I love cats, but will get rid of one very quickly if it vomits often.

I dislike animal vomit… a lot.  I can barely get through cleaning it up without gagging.

I’m becoming [gradual process] a vegetarian.  I’m doing it for health reasons.  I’ll never be vegan because I’m crackers for cheese.  I fancy Mexican food, too.  Mexican food without cheese makes no sense at all.

I can fall asleep in a matter of minutes.  Oftentimes, it takes no more than a few.  I learned my method for this from a book.

I snore sometimes.  I also sleep-talk/walk/grope from time to time.  Every once in a while, I’ll have a night-terror.  It’s not difficult to wake me from this, but can be scary for people if they’ve never witnessed such a thing before.

I’m pretty emotional.  I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I’m overly-sensitive, but a touching story/song/movie will bring tears to my eyes pretty easily.  This is all a bit of a paradox as far as my personality goes because I’m also pretty blunt and don’t often candy-coat while communicating.  Again, go figure.

I’m watching my laundry tumble-dry. Jeans fall upon shirts that fall upon socks and so on. It’s hypnotic. Brown hoodie on and I’m slouched. I appear shiftless, I’m sure, but that’s not at all true. My gears are turning, like always. The Fight Club soundtrack ticks in my ears and aren’t I just the hippest motherfucker in here.

Damage-control, remember? That was the plan. It’s what you do when someone kicks you in the heart. Solitude and retrospect. I’ve really half-assed that part, though. Just when I begin to make progress, to understand some of it, I hide myself in distractions. The drink. Women. It’s easier that way. Complicated, but native.

Enough. I’ll direct my attention back to the heartache. Fondle and examine it until I understand. I prefer to be acquainted with something so capable of gutting me like this; to get inside of it. And I will.

No Child’s Behind Left: The Test

By Greg Palast

New York — Today and tomorrow every 8-year-old in the state of New York will take a test. It’s part of George Bush’s No Child Left Behind program. The losers will be left behind to repeat the third grade.

Try it yourself. This is from the state’s actual practice test. Ready, class?
(more…)