During my first year of middle-school, I was exposed to Nikola Tesla. After a week of playing with light bulbs and building make-shift, one-way switches, my first period science teacher escorted the class to the library, pushed to the side a dozen books about Thomas Edison, and retrieved one whose cover portrayed the face of a thin, dark-haired man. “Tesla is the reason ya’ll have Nintendo. Dude was a genius. Edison was just a cracker business man, mostly.” That teacher, whose name escapes me, spent the bulk of his adult life playing basketball for the Chicago Bulls. He learned to trash-talk during his time as a professional athlete and certainly had a way with words.

To this day, I’m amazed and saddened by the fact that, in the US, Telsa isn’t showcased the way that he deserved to be. I suppose that this is my contribution to the cause. Please watch it, my nine viewers, and spread the word.

When I moved to San Francisco, I was faced with the task of furnishing my new home. I was renting a room in a house in the Sunset District. The house was lovely, and my room was spacious, but the neighborhood was awful. It consisted of homes, Chinese delis that proudly displayed skinned ducks in their windows, and cell phone stores. Tons of cell phone stores. I really can’t stress how great the quantity of cell phone retailers in that neighborhood is. What could these people possibly need with so many of them? You can almost hear that neighborhood hum at night. I digress…

The first piece of furniture that I purchased was an oak table. It was used, but in pretty good condition. It fit the bill perfectly, as I require more desktop space than the usual computer desk provides. I am, however, sick of looking at it. It has a thin lacquer on it, which means that it’s oak-colored with a sheen. I’m capable of sanding and painting it, but really don’t feel like doing so. I’m lazy. There, I said it.

My mental exploration into possible solutions to this problem has led me to tape. Specifically, gaff tape. I chose it for the following reasons:

1. It’s threaded, similar to duct tape, which makes it strong.

2. The adhesive, a high quality synthetic rubber, leaves no residue when the tape is removed. When I’m finally ready to sand and paint this oak beast, I’ll have no problems doing so.

3. It comes in many colors, including the drab olive green that matches my messenger bag!

The tools needed for this project are tape and your roommate’s toe-nail scissors (I recommend cleaning them before and after).

Below are some ‘before’ photos of the desk. If you look closely, you can see the scuffs and stains that it has sustained over the years. You may also notice that my room is a mess. I just moved in and am still unpacking. Give me a break.

The tape looks like this:

Partway through:

I finished within the hour, then placed some items on the desk for the ‘after’ shots:

I like the way that it turned out. The feel of the desktop is like that of canvas and not tacky at all. Perhaps I should do the rest of my furniture!

All… my… friends… pilot a motorized mode of conveyance that is elevated to lower-than-moderate position.

Easy now; the Colombia blog [with images] is on its way.

About two and a half years ago, I had the urge to post some of the Lyrics from Saul Williams’ ‘Telegram.’ For some reason - we’ll go with sheer laziness - I didn’t. The aforementioned urge has persisted, and the words are still perfectly relevant, so what the hell. Here it is:

Telegram to Hip Hop:
Dear Hip Hop .(stop)
This shit has gone too far (stop)
Please see that mixer and turntables are returned to Kool Herc. (stop)
The ghettos are dancing off beat. (stop)
The master of ceremonies have forgotten that they were once slaves and have neglected the occasion of this ceremony.(stop)
Perhaps we should not have encouraged them to use cordless microphones, for they have walked too far from the source and are emitting a lesser frequency (stop).
Please inform all interested parties that cash nor murder have been added to the list of elements. (stop)
We are discontinuing our current line of braggadocio, in light of the current trend in “realness”. (stop)
As an alternative, we will be confiscating weed supplies and replacing them with magic mushrooms, in hopes of helping niggas see beyond their reality. (stop)
Give my regards to Brooklyn

I highly recommend the album on which this song is included. In fact, I recommend getting your hands on anything with Saul’s name on it. Books, albums, etc. It’s all very good.

I’ve had urges to blog, lately. When these urges bubble up, I begin to write the post in my head, but am immediately stopped by my own self-criticisms. That voice tends to say things like, “Don, nobody cares to hear your opinion of [fill in the movie title],” “Really, is it important that your readers know how bad the service was at the taqueria near your apartment?” and “Perhaps your extremely critical views on the homeless in San Francisco are harsh and need not be exposed…” So, that is my excuse for not blogging. That, and a work-schedule that has me busy during my most energetic and enthusiastic hours of the day; good for them but bad for my faithful, eager, attentive readers. I’m a celebrity. Please pay attention to me. Love me.

Where to begin…

I work for an online retailer of adult DVDs, toys, apparel, and online videos. To protect myself from getting Dooced, I’ll not name the company for which I work. I will say that I thoroughly enjoy my job. My peers and leaders are wonderful. The company is pretty progressive and looks upon it’s employees as human beings and not merely numbers. I wouldn’t say that this company is perfect, but it’s certainly the best that I’ve worked for; so much better than the massive, evil corporations that I’ve previously pissed blood for.

I began my employment with this company in June of 2006 as a Customer Service / Technical Support Representative. In January, I was promoted to Floor Supervisor. Transitioning into this leadership position has been interesting. I’m learning a lot. So far, so good.

Living in San Francisco is lovely. Cost of living here is a mother fucker, but it’s doable. The job-market is strong, so finding a job isn’t terribly difficult. Driving is more of a hassle than a convenience. Public transportation is much more affordable and will take you to every corner of the city. I do miss my car, but only because of the sun-roof and brilliant-sounding stereo system. I’ve compensated for the latter by upgrading to the 80gig iPod. I officially have all 1,210 of my albums with me at all times. If I could implant this thing into my head, I would. Scalpel?

Speaking of Apple, I’ve converted. That’s right, I said it. It’s been years since my last Apple and dammit, I missed it. The Blackbook that I’m typing on right now does what it’s told, every time. I can dig that. I even convinced the girl to get one. Hers is white.

Just prior to beginning this blog post, I was practicing bass guitar. I must say, those strings fight back. My fingertips are tender and my wrist is quite upset at me for making it bend in ways not recommended by anyone who has an understanding of which direction bones and ligaments are supposed to point. That was a long sentence.

I really thought that I had something to say, tonight. Apparently, I don’t. I’d go into my recent excitement over the things that come out of Mike Gravel’s mouth, but politics is kind of a non-issue for me since the five-year plan includes moving to another country.

How about some random shit. Here goes…

I had this idea for a product. “Mandaids,” it would be called. Bandaids for men, basically. They’d be in the shape of machine guns, trucks, breasts, beer cans, etc. This is not a serious idea. I just like to write stupid shit down when it pops into my head.

At work, I speak with customers via phone and email [mostly email] from time to time. I’ve come across the following [real] names: Denormous, Tarizona, Vice Verse, Lovely. I’m not joking. Those were their names. Parents really need to confer with someone who isn’t retarded when determining the moniker that their children will carry with them for life.

Do people not understand that there is such a thing as too tan? It’s one thing to have a nice glow about you. A little color. It’s quite another to look like leather. Please, please stop.

Well, I really didn’t have anything to say. I suppose that I should be better prepared for my next post. Maybe I’ll even say something that matters.

View the images, read the captions, do your best to not fall apart.

Click Here

“I’m sorry, but I don’t want to be an Emperor - that’s not my business. I don’t want to rule or conquer anyone. I should like to help everyone, if possible — Jew, gentile, black man, white. We all want to help one another; human beings are like that. We want to live by each other’s happiness, not by each other’s misery. We don’t want to hate and despise one another. In this world there’s room for everyone and the good earth is rich and can provide for everyone.

The way of life can be free and beautiful.

But we have lost the way.

Greed has poisoned men’s souls, has barricaded the world with hate, has goose-stepped us into misery and bloodshed. We have developed speed but we have shut ourselves in. Machinery that gives abundance has left us in want. Our knowledge has made us cynical, our cleverness hard and unkind. We think too much and feel too little. More than machinery, we need humanity. More than cleverness, we need kindness and gentleness. Without these qualities, life will be violent and all will be lost.

The aeroplane and the radio have brought us closer together. The very nature of these inventions cries out for the goodness in men, cries out for universal brotherhood for the unity of us all. Even now my voice is reaching millions throughout the world, millions of despairing men, women, and little children, victims of a system that makes men torture and imprison innocent people.

To those who can hear me I say, “Do not despair.” The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed, the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress. The hate of men will pass and dictators die; and the power they took from the people will return to the people and so long as men die, liberty will never perish.

Soldiers: Don’t give yourselves to brutes, men who despise you, enslave you, who regiment your lives, tell you what to do, what to think and what to feel; who drill you, diet you, treat you like cattle, use you as cannon fodder. Don’t give yourselves to these unnatural men, machine men, with machine minds and machine hearts! You are not machines! You are not cattle! You are men! You have the love of humanity in your hearts. You don’t hate; only the unloved hate, the unloved and the unnatural.

Soldiers: Don’t fight for slavery! Fight for liberty! In the seventeenth chapter of Saint Luke it is written, “the kingdom of God is within man” — not one man, nor a group of men, but in all men, in you, you the people have the power, the power to create machines, the power to create happiness. You the people have the power to make this life free and beautiful, to make this life a wonderful adventure.

Then, in the name of democracy, let us use that power! Let us all unite!! Let us fight for a new world, a decent world that will give men a chance to work, that will give youth a future and old age a security. By the promise of these things, brutes have risen to power, but they lie! They do not fulfill their promise; they never will. Dictators free themselves, but they enslave the people!! Now, let us fight to fulfill that promise!! Let us fight to free the world, to do away with national barriers, to do away with greed, with hate and intolerance. Let us fight for a world of reason, a world where science and progress will lead to all men’s happiness.

Soldiers: In the name of democracy, let us all unite!!!”

~Charlie Chaplin [The Great Dictator (1940)]

Alright, so I’ve absolutely neglected my blog, I know. I’m not troubled by this because of the poor, two or three readers that are completely missing out on my meandering thoughts. Rather, I’m troubled by it because, without a venue like this, my in-person friends and associates must weather the storm that is a pent-up, more asshole-ish than usual Don. To the aforementioned people, I apologize.

First, let me just say that I thoroughly enjoy this montage.

Clinton really impressed me in his interview with Chris Wallace. I’m glad that he didn’t pull the usual, “dance around but not really answer questions” shit that most politicians, ex and not, alike do. The candor of his responses has convinced me that finishing his book is worthwhile.

Additionally, Keith Olbermann is my new hero for his take on that interview, as well as his recent reports. I’m happy to hear that someone with decent reach [via Media] is completely, unapologetically, telling it like it is. If you’re unsure of who Keith Olbermann is and have time to kill, view some of his stuff, here.

I’m sure that, by now, everyone has seen this. Crazy, I know. I recall Jerry Seinfeld stating during an interview that Michael Richards was the most professional and level headed guy on the show. Such a contrast to what happened on that stage!

I understand that Richards’ is probably dealing with the repercussions of his actions, currently. I’m sure that this is a difficult time for him. I cannot, however, allow him to get away with what he’s done to me, personally. I must take action.

I hereby publicly announce my plans to sue Michael Richards for stealing, word for word, my stand-up comedy routine. I will not sit idly as he plagiarizes my work. Precious time was spent developing such a refined act, Michael. How dare you swagger about like it was your material? Unacceptable, Michael. Completely unacceptable.

My apologies, but writing the above has induced an agitated emotional state. I’m feeling verklempt and am in dire need of some me time.

I know it’s been awhile.  My apologies.  I’ve been pretty busy, lately.  My schedule at work is awful - I pretty much work all day.  When I have free time, it’s usually spent with Beth and/or Don, hence the lack of activity on this blog.  Even now, I’m at work.  I have 15 minutes or so left on my break, then it’s back to the duties at hand.  Again, I’m sorry.

Let’s get right into the important stuff…

The new 7-Up slogan goes as follows: “Now 100% Natural.”  This excited me as I’m a fan of citrus.  Upon thorough inspection, though, I also found, “Contains No Juice” printed on the can.  What the hell does the “100% Natural” bit refer to, then?  We could totally split hairs and assert that, perhaps they are going with the ‘if it’s found on this planet, it must be natural’ story.  That doesn’t really float with me, though.  I mean, Michael Jackson’s nose was found on this planet and it certainly isn’t natural.  Just saying…  Would it be so hard to brew a batch of 7-Up with some lemon juice?

I’ve found what I believe to be the coolest film title, ever… in life.  It’s called, “Night of the Day of the Dawn of the Son of the Bride of the Return of the Revenge of the Terror of the Attack of the Evil, Mutant, Hellbound, Flesh-Eating Subhumanoid Zombified Living Dead, Part 3.“  Seriously.

While viewing the comments of a somewhat recent Fark article, someone mentioned this: “One thing about 9/11 I found really freaking cool was Steve Bushcemi (did I spell that right?). He was FDNY prior to being an actor. 9/11 happened and he found a way to get to his old firehouse. He got there and told the Captain “I’m not an actor, I’m a firefighter. How can I help?” and worked for around a month without pay.”  How cool is that?  I had already considered him a wonderful actor.  Who would have thought that he was also a totally cool and noble human being?

I knew that I was in San Francisco when I saw a bumper sticker that said ‘GW, You’re fired’ and a purple construction vehicle in the same 15 seconds.  This place is pretty great.

Shite, my break is coming to an end.  I will post more, completely useless and unorganized nonsense, shortly.  Also, pictures.

I saw The Squid and The Whale. It was lovely. The acting was great on all accounts, even Baldwin. I watched it immediately after watching Dumb and Dumber. It was interesting to see Jeff Daniels go from silly to pretty-great-at-acting within a few hour block.

The Constant Gardener was so, so good. I don’t even know where to start… Just see it, ok?

I’d like to see Kinky Boots. RollingStone magazine reviewed it and said that it was bad, but I don’t really care about that. RollingStone’s reviewers [whatever their title is] are awful, in my opinion. They gave Willy Nelson’s latest album the same number of stars that they gave Juvenile’s. I rest my case.

I moved to San Francisco. I spent the first two months in Milpitas [30 or 40 miles south of SF] as the house that we were going to live in is being remodeled. Milpitas is pretty boring [hell, it's lifeless, I say], but Don [I'm not talking about myself in the third-person; Don is a friend of mine who shares the same, sexy name] did a great job of keeping me entertained. His work-day is pretty short [yet, he makes a TON of money!] and he didn’t leave me to my boredom for very long. We watched movies, drank beer at dodgy karaoke bars, and consumed absurd amounts of sushi.

I’ve now live in ‘The City’ [that's what townies call SF...The City. Fucking smug, right?]. I’ve fallen in love with this city. I’m also pretty partial to Berkeley. I have hippy tendencies. Wanna fight about it?

Beth lives in Berkeley. I met her during my November visit to the bay area. She was on the train and was kind enough to be my tour-guide and ensure that I didn’t end up completely lost. In my time here, I’ve met her ex-boyfriend and a couple of their friends. They’re all pretty cool. Clever, progressive, geeky, etc… On the night that I met them, they took me to a couple of bars. The first one, Zeitgeist, was gritty and full of punk-types It was quite large, but had a dive-bar feel. They had Red Stripe and outdoor seating, so I was happy. The second one, Atrium [or something], was kind of a hole-in-the-wall and had a tiny dance-area in the back. I wasn’t really in the mood to dance, but Groove Is In The Heart came on. Can anyone resist dancing when that song plays? I figured that I’d just shake it a little, then call it a night. I was wrong. Billy Jean came on, right after. Then You Spin Me Round. It was 80’s and 90’s dance, all night. I was powerless. During this time, beers were handed to me by people I didn’t even know. Who am I to turn beer down? Fun was had.

While living in Milpitas, I watched TV on a somewhat regular basis. I haven’t had cable [even basic] in years. In fact, I went a handful of years without watching a lick of TV. Needless to say, it took some adjusting. By adjusting, I mean that I found myself on the couch with a four-pound bucket of Red Vines in my lap for hours at a time because that magical portal into celeb-Americana had me captivated.

One of my favorite shows is Can’t Get A Date - I love love love it!. My favorite aspect of the show is the narrator. The sound of his voice doesn’t change from the narration to the times that he’s interacting with the guest. I’m not just talking about his tone and the like; it sounds as if the narration and the dialogue that’s recorded during his interaction with the people on the show are on the same track. It was instantly noticeable to me and was the hook, if you will. Also, the guy sounds a bit like Drew from LoveLine. He’s eloquent and assertive and, though his voice is smooth and kind of monotonous, he says things like ‘word’ and ‘that’s dope’ after dropping fantastic, relevant advice. Oh how I love the contrast. Please, check the show out. Here are some clips.

A guilty pleasure of mine is Roxette. Do you remember them?

I was watching 50 First Dates and giggling like a schoolgirl. Every time that baby penguin was on the screen, I smiled big. What’s weird, though, is that I usually dislike Drew Barrymore. Not in this movie. When she’s happy, I laugh. When she’s sad, I tear up [just a little...SHADDUP!]

Mr. Peepers [the Chris Kattan character on SNL] makes me laugh really hard. Seriously.

I love the show, Cops. The reason that I enjoy it so much? Well, seeing overweight cops chase guys who are hopped up on PCP is fun, but that’s not really the appeal. I just really, REALLY enjoy watching people attempt to talk their way out of shit. I could watch that all day. I don’t know how the cops keep straight faces while listening the absolute bullshit stories that these people come up with. “Naw, officer… I… I was just making sure that Kmart’s windows could… um… withstand, you see… a brick being thrown through them… security testing and stuff…” I love it so hard.

OH MY GOD! Just when I finished typing out the above Cops spiel, another layer of the show’s brilliance is exposed! It’s on right now and, as soon as I clicked ’save’ on this post, they showed this guy punching a cop [who was on a horse] in the face. Then, another cop shot him with a tazer-gun and, as the guy’s body was becoming stiff from the shock, his PANTS FELL OFF! HAHAHA. They fell right off! That was just… glorious!

Eleanor Roosevelt was only partly right. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and hornier.

I was once told that the squirrels on the Berkeley campus were fearless. That’s no bullshit. A few weeks ago, I was on campus to meet Beth and, while walking toward her class, a squirrel jumped out of the bushes and followed me for a few meters. When I stopped to address it, the squirrel climbed up my pant leg all the way to my waist! He [or she, I don't know] just stared me down from this position with a sort of “food! you have food?!?” kind of look on it’s face. By the time I got my camera out of my pocket, it had climbed back down my leg. I managed only to get a picture of it near my shoe. That picture will be posted soon.

Prior to the move, there occurred a drunken, jump rope photo shoot at Daniel and Lindsay’s. You read it right; drunken, jump rope photo shoot. It was glorious. I’ll get the pictures from them as soon as I can.

I need to get back to work. Lunch break is coming to an end. OH! Work! I’ll tell you about that, soon! It’s neat, man.