What's better than a sock? A sock that makes drum noises!
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4 years ago
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Lake Tahoe
Here's another panoramic, this time from Vikingsholm beach front at Lake Tahoe. This place is absurd in it's grandeur and beauty- everywhere you look, it seems like the scene is bolder than the one you just saw. It is also the natural habitat of the Rick Raymond (Rickus Raymondium), who thrives on outdoor stimulation.
Just gorgeous.
Twin Peaks
Here's a panoramic view from the top of Twin Peaks in South San Francisco. The view speaks for itself. Just one more reason San Francisco continues to amaze me.
Friday, December 14, 2007
RIP Kid Nation
I thought the conclusion of this epic show was worthy of an entry. I'm really in no position to really complain about the show ending- I haven't even seen the final episode. But because I keep regular tabs on the series via my favorite KN blog, bonanzacity.blogspot.com, I kind of already know what happens. But knowing the highlights of this show is pretty much meaningless. The winner of the Golden Star is as unimportant as the host's real life, which I can only hope is empty and hapless.
What has made this show great is it's ability to entertain with the small details. Seeing as how the plot was entirely forced via "journal entries" (I'm sure the kids would have confronted the issue of Hinduism on their own), we as viewers waited for unexpected one liners. There were always the go to characters who could always be trusted to say something bat shit crazy- Jared aka Crazy Jewish Kid was an overflowing fountain of profundities. After cashing in on his self made necklaces and collecting nearly 30 shiny buffalo nickels, he hit up the corner store and emerged in full pimp gear, in pure Jared style. He even had the pimp cane (completely edible I may add). Combine this information with classic lines like "to kill or not to kill, THAT is the question" all whilst having his lips stained red from too much Kool-Aid. Or human blood. You could have thrown this kid in the middle of the desert, put him in a tie died shirt and let the cameras roll and you would have a great show.
But let us not forget other favorites such as Punjab, aka the Indian Gonzo aka Anjay. Everytime his face graced the television screen, it was enough to drive you to drink. But perhaps the most crucial moment of the entire series came from the fat butterball bitch who played with the chickens all day- and I can only imagine smelled like BO and Chicken shit- who uttered the classic line "I'll pick up my game". Granted, it's unfunny out of context, but just imagine the smelliest, fattest kid you knew growing up being confronted about his/her laziness and them responding in a double-chinned southern drawl "all pick up ma gaime". Classic television.
But perhaps the best thing Kid Nation gave us was the drinking. Ah the drinking. The game we created, following the conventions of "take a drink everytime..." basically wrote itself. From the get go, there were personalities you knew were going to get shit all over and do the shitting. Throw in some generalities about the way kids operate (like always choosing the "right" prize when in fact they should ALWAYS choose the pizza/ponies/private pimp lounge/rave party). Top it off with some observation about these children, like their general discomfort with freezing to death in a desert and their common lip sores and WALLA, you have that many more reasons to drink.
I'm not sure if this show would have been as enjoyable if I had been sober through the entire thing, but there's one thing I'm sure of. I'll be tuning in to Kid Nation II, if and when it comes out. Another certainty is that I'll be buying the unrrated DVD box set when it comes out so I can really see what Greg did when he picked up all those unsuspecting 9 year olds and carried them into the darkness. Hopefully we'll also see some full frontal, at least with Taylor.
What has made this show great is it's ability to entertain with the small details. Seeing as how the plot was entirely forced via "journal entries" (I'm sure the kids would have confronted the issue of Hinduism on their own), we as viewers waited for unexpected one liners. There were always the go to characters who could always be trusted to say something bat shit crazy- Jared aka Crazy Jewish Kid was an overflowing fountain of profundities. After cashing in on his self made necklaces and collecting nearly 30 shiny buffalo nickels, he hit up the corner store and emerged in full pimp gear, in pure Jared style. He even had the pimp cane (completely edible I may add). Combine this information with classic lines like "to kill or not to kill, THAT is the question" all whilst having his lips stained red from too much Kool-Aid. Or human blood. You could have thrown this kid in the middle of the desert, put him in a tie died shirt and let the cameras roll and you would have a great show.
But let us not forget other favorites such as Punjab, aka the Indian Gonzo aka Anjay. Everytime his face graced the television screen, it was enough to drive you to drink. But perhaps the most crucial moment of the entire series came from the fat butterball bitch who played with the chickens all day- and I can only imagine smelled like BO and Chicken shit- who uttered the classic line "I'll pick up my game". Granted, it's unfunny out of context, but just imagine the smelliest, fattest kid you knew growing up being confronted about his/her laziness and them responding in a double-chinned southern drawl "all pick up ma gaime". Classic television.
But perhaps the best thing Kid Nation gave us was the drinking. Ah the drinking. The game we created, following the conventions of "take a drink everytime..." basically wrote itself. From the get go, there were personalities you knew were going to get shit all over and do the shitting. Throw in some generalities about the way kids operate (like always choosing the "right" prize when in fact they should ALWAYS choose the pizza/ponies/private pimp lounge/rave party). Top it off with some observation about these children, like their general discomfort with freezing to death in a desert and their common lip sores and WALLA, you have that many more reasons to drink.
I'm not sure if this show would have been as enjoyable if I had been sober through the entire thing, but there's one thing I'm sure of. I'll be tuning in to Kid Nation II, if and when it comes out. Another certainty is that I'll be buying the unrrated DVD box set when it comes out so I can really see what Greg did when he picked up all those unsuspecting 9 year olds and carried them into the darkness. Hopefully we'll also see some full frontal, at least with Taylor.
Take a step back and...
Sometimes it's funny how you think you're acting normal, just doing your regular thing, and you are suddenly presented with your absurd reality. For instance, I saw my friend Allison in a coffee shop over on Polk St. studying for her law final. I popped in and we chatted. As I was getting up to leave I stepped away from the chair funny, almost half falling down. My reaction was to sit back down on the toppling chair quickly, causing a huge CRACK sounds, totally destryoing the carefully manicured silence of the coffee shop. In that instant I saw myself- sweaty and red from a work out holding a shopping bag containing a 40 and a can of chicken noodle soup. At that moment, I looked certifiably insane and ready for the crack-laden streets.
I mention this self affirmation moment not for masochistic purposes- I don't enjoy degrading myself (often). The simple absurdity of it all just makes me laugh. I figure this is simply a reflection of my sporadic lifestlye- drinking and eating soup- that is part of a phase that will someday pass. It will pass, right?
I mention this self affirmation moment not for masochistic purposes- I don't enjoy degrading myself (often). The simple absurdity of it all just makes me laugh. I figure this is simply a reflection of my sporadic lifestlye- drinking and eating soup- that is part of a phase that will someday pass. It will pass, right?
Friday, December 7, 2007
The Morning/Day After: Free Friday
Last night was the Holiday Party for Goodby Silverstein and Partners at the Mezzanine just south of Market St. For weeks, ney, months now, I've been getting prep talks about this party. I've been told a number of different stories by a number of past and present employees, each one trying to trump the other's story. I imagine tons of spinning lights, fast camera cuts capturing a rapid dance floor, some Golden necklaces and gifts served up on mirrors and divided with a razor blade. I was sure I was about to transport to a new level of being- beyond the confines of the everyday awkwardness that arise between coworkers- and see a new side of my company.
Needless to say, this didn't happen. But no problem. It was a great time- the agency video was absolutely hilarious, perhaps the highlight of the night. For the rest of my time, I systematically drained Red Bull and Vodkas, giving me an odd dynamic of drunkard and speed freak. I think I ended up making a lot of plans with just everyone I talked to (after drink 5). If my memory serves right, I will soon be an assitant video editor, work of a film crew doing indie flicks, ride my bike 50+ miles in one sitting, and party with a hot asian chick who owns a glass dildo shop. My social calendar needed a facelift, I guess.
Anyway, after all the drunken antics, the long wet walk to the supposed "after party" became a food run to the local Carl's JR (who the fuck eats at Carl's Jr?). I must admit the burger wasn't bad, but I probably could have been fed dog shit at that point and enjoyed myself. Although I can't say with certainty that I wasn't in fact ingesting fecal matter.
The after party fizzled, which was probably my saving grace. I jumped in a cab to return home. It must have been my lucky night because my cab driver was friendly and talkative and really hated black single mothers. He espoused his disdain for girls who have 80 kids then don't do shit. He was Indian and for some reason it was weird to hear him bad mouthing black people. I know there's no secret pact between minorities (?) but in my own Wonder Bread world, I thought bad mouthing people was a white person's job. You learn something new everyday.
So I paid the kind racist, tipped my non existent hat and headed for my door. But because I'm a goddamn idiot who loves to forget his keys, I had no entry in. I called John a few (ten) times, in hopes that his drunk ass was still up. His drunk ass wasn't. I didn't want to wake up Rick and Alan because those sorry suckers had to work in the morning. In my state, i didn't think calling them was appropriate, but buzzing the doorbell and running into the door was. What's worse that getting a phone call at 2:30 in the morning from a locked out roommate? Why, thinking that one of the many crazy bums of San Francisco is trying to break into your house at 2:30.
Thankfully for me, Kelsey was kind enough to let my drunk ass come over. Jumped in another cab, not as racist, but racial (you can just tell sometimes) and headed to Kelseys. I was told later that I was spewwing ridiculous garble as I tend to do when drunk or tired or a hybrid of the two.
I woke up this morning with a nice juicy hangover. Kelsey scooted off to her office in the sky as I rolled around in bed, cursing the brightness of every shadow.
After about 2 hours of restlessly trying to see as little as possible, I turned on the TV. The price is right was on. It was the first time I'd seen it since Bob Barker left, now replaced with Drew Carey. And it sucked, sucked big ol balls. Drew Carey isn't half the announcer Barker was. Barker gave cute girls a grandfatherly pat on the tush after a job well done. Carey stood there and looked fat. When he talked it sounded like he wanted to speed things up so he could leave and still catch the Breakfast menu somewhere. Or just so he could go masterbate. Does no one remember that he wrote a book that devoted multiple chapters to "My Dick is so big.." jokes? Barker will be rolling in his grave...when he dies. In 20 years. At the age of 145.
So then John came over, we smoked. Laughed. fashioned a bong that would make Mcguyver jealous. Laughed some more. I then of course started jabbering about getting on our bikes and just riding until we got tired, find some cheap hotel and then do it again the next day. But then I forgot I was high and extremely hungover. And wearing a suit. So I soon recognized this as a terrible idea. I walked home as John stuck around Polk St. to wait for his bike to be done at the shop.
I took a new road over Russian Hill- the name escapes me at the moment- and good god damn was it beautiful. I am almost totally positive that this was the road they used to film that Sony Bravia commercial with all the bouncy balls and the Jose Gonzalez tune. Also helping matters was the amazing sunshine that I didn't know existed at this point of the year. Everyone I talked to on the East Coast is up to there balls in snow and freezing their cocks off. I'm walking down a sunny street in a suit on December 7th. A note about this sunshine: It was different than most sunshine- it was somehow crisper. Maybe it was the slightly lower temperature or maybe it was the brightly colored houses I kept uncovering, or maybe it was the weed, but something about today's sunshine was different. More complex. It was amazing.
Walking home this new way, I actually started paying attention to my neighborhood. I haven't really explored it thoroughly enough. Biking also gives you less time to really soak it in. I finally started to notice the small shops that line every street. There was of course your asian stores that sold a bunch of weird ass roots, but these were quite removed from the warm embrace of Chinatown. I plan on taking the early part of tomorrow and venturing back to these streets, probably armed with my camera.
As I got closer to home, I again realized that my retarded ass had no keys. God Dammit. But really it worked out, I made like a movie star, grabbed my coffee and trendy banana but bread snack and found an empty bench in Washington Park. It was a lone bench on an odd corner of the park I usually don't even notice. But I'm glad I chose this corner. From my vantage point, I got an ideal view of all of the parks trees. I am in love with California fauna and the trees that line the east side of the park (and most of Golden Gate Park) make me feel like I'm in the time of the Dinosaurs. But most remarkable were the trees that ran down the center of Columbus Ave. With the seemingly endless good weather, the few seasonal trees in the city are confused as hell- they have no idea what season it is. So in this instance it means that the trees running down Columbus are fire cracker red on the top, fresh green on the bottom and every other color in between. I've been jonesing to see the east coast foliage like crazy since I moved here. And in this one place on a park bench, I could look enjoy the best trees of California and the best colors of the east coast.
I have to say that this city ceases to amaze me. Bi weekly, I find myself seeing something or feeling a certain way about my surroundings that's overwhelming. I thank my luck stars and everything that allows me to enjoy this. I am overly blessed to be able to enjoy these sights, sounds, feelings and emotions. Even hungover, this city will give you something that you can't help but be thankful for.
Needless to say, this didn't happen. But no problem. It was a great time- the agency video was absolutely hilarious, perhaps the highlight of the night. For the rest of my time, I systematically drained Red Bull and Vodkas, giving me an odd dynamic of drunkard and speed freak. I think I ended up making a lot of plans with just everyone I talked to (after drink 5). If my memory serves right, I will soon be an assitant video editor, work of a film crew doing indie flicks, ride my bike 50+ miles in one sitting, and party with a hot asian chick who owns a glass dildo shop. My social calendar needed a facelift, I guess.
Anyway, after all the drunken antics, the long wet walk to the supposed "after party" became a food run to the local Carl's JR (who the fuck eats at Carl's Jr?). I must admit the burger wasn't bad, but I probably could have been fed dog shit at that point and enjoyed myself. Although I can't say with certainty that I wasn't in fact ingesting fecal matter.
The after party fizzled, which was probably my saving grace. I jumped in a cab to return home. It must have been my lucky night because my cab driver was friendly and talkative and really hated black single mothers. He espoused his disdain for girls who have 80 kids then don't do shit. He was Indian and for some reason it was weird to hear him bad mouthing black people. I know there's no secret pact between minorities (?) but in my own Wonder Bread world, I thought bad mouthing people was a white person's job. You learn something new everyday.
So I paid the kind racist, tipped my non existent hat and headed for my door. But because I'm a goddamn idiot who loves to forget his keys, I had no entry in. I called John a few (ten) times, in hopes that his drunk ass was still up. His drunk ass wasn't. I didn't want to wake up Rick and Alan because those sorry suckers had to work in the morning. In my state, i didn't think calling them was appropriate, but buzzing the doorbell and running into the door was. What's worse that getting a phone call at 2:30 in the morning from a locked out roommate? Why, thinking that one of the many crazy bums of San Francisco is trying to break into your house at 2:30.
Thankfully for me, Kelsey was kind enough to let my drunk ass come over. Jumped in another cab, not as racist, but racial (you can just tell sometimes) and headed to Kelseys. I was told later that I was spewwing ridiculous garble as I tend to do when drunk or tired or a hybrid of the two.
I woke up this morning with a nice juicy hangover. Kelsey scooted off to her office in the sky as I rolled around in bed, cursing the brightness of every shadow.
After about 2 hours of restlessly trying to see as little as possible, I turned on the TV. The price is right was on. It was the first time I'd seen it since Bob Barker left, now replaced with Drew Carey. And it sucked, sucked big ol balls. Drew Carey isn't half the announcer Barker was. Barker gave cute girls a grandfatherly pat on the tush after a job well done. Carey stood there and looked fat. When he talked it sounded like he wanted to speed things up so he could leave and still catch the Breakfast menu somewhere. Or just so he could go masterbate. Does no one remember that he wrote a book that devoted multiple chapters to "My Dick is so big.." jokes? Barker will be rolling in his grave...when he dies. In 20 years. At the age of 145.
So then John came over, we smoked. Laughed. fashioned a bong that would make Mcguyver jealous. Laughed some more. I then of course started jabbering about getting on our bikes and just riding until we got tired, find some cheap hotel and then do it again the next day. But then I forgot I was high and extremely hungover. And wearing a suit. So I soon recognized this as a terrible idea. I walked home as John stuck around Polk St. to wait for his bike to be done at the shop.
I took a new road over Russian Hill- the name escapes me at the moment- and good god damn was it beautiful. I am almost totally positive that this was the road they used to film that Sony Bravia commercial with all the bouncy balls and the Jose Gonzalez tune. Also helping matters was the amazing sunshine that I didn't know existed at this point of the year. Everyone I talked to on the East Coast is up to there balls in snow and freezing their cocks off. I'm walking down a sunny street in a suit on December 7th. A note about this sunshine: It was different than most sunshine- it was somehow crisper. Maybe it was the slightly lower temperature or maybe it was the brightly colored houses I kept uncovering, or maybe it was the weed, but something about today's sunshine was different. More complex. It was amazing.
Walking home this new way, I actually started paying attention to my neighborhood. I haven't really explored it thoroughly enough. Biking also gives you less time to really soak it in. I finally started to notice the small shops that line every street. There was of course your asian stores that sold a bunch of weird ass roots, but these were quite removed from the warm embrace of Chinatown. I plan on taking the early part of tomorrow and venturing back to these streets, probably armed with my camera.
As I got closer to home, I again realized that my retarded ass had no keys. God Dammit. But really it worked out, I made like a movie star, grabbed my coffee and trendy banana but bread snack and found an empty bench in Washington Park. It was a lone bench on an odd corner of the park I usually don't even notice. But I'm glad I chose this corner. From my vantage point, I got an ideal view of all of the parks trees. I am in love with California fauna and the trees that line the east side of the park (and most of Golden Gate Park) make me feel like I'm in the time of the Dinosaurs. But most remarkable were the trees that ran down the center of Columbus Ave. With the seemingly endless good weather, the few seasonal trees in the city are confused as hell- they have no idea what season it is. So in this instance it means that the trees running down Columbus are fire cracker red on the top, fresh green on the bottom and every other color in between. I've been jonesing to see the east coast foliage like crazy since I moved here. And in this one place on a park bench, I could look enjoy the best trees of California and the best colors of the east coast.
I have to say that this city ceases to amaze me. Bi weekly, I find myself seeing something or feeling a certain way about my surroundings that's overwhelming. I thank my luck stars and everything that allows me to enjoy this. I am overly blessed to be able to enjoy these sights, sounds, feelings and emotions. Even hungover, this city will give you something that you can't help but be thankful for.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Monday, October 8, 2007
Friday, September 28, 2007
First Post
As I'm inundated with saying "hi" in every email, phone conversation and face to face chat, I think I'll start this off a bit differently. Let's break the social mode and start this life catching mechanism with a phrase that I can look back on ions from now (from my crystal ship deep in the cosmos) and say, "damn, I was really cool back then." Here goes nothing...
Yo.
I want to use this space to post videos that I like, for one reason or another. I'd like to do this for a number of reasons. First off, I just fucking love internet videos. Some might say my hobby is border line obsessive. I say that it's a valuable tool that taps me into the social conscience of the time and gives me a better understanding of what people (Consumers and the media) really want. And I don't know any good crack dealers (although I'm sure if I did, this may be a very different blog). Secondly, this is a great platform to share my choice of internet videos with the world. Or the small percentage of the world that might stumble upon it. I've got quite a wide array of interests- be them political, historical, social, artistic- and I've found that I can find a little bit of myself in the videos I watch. Before I get too new age all over this thing, let me end it by saying, this is a blog for people who dig videos and are interesting in sharing that interest. With no further adeui, I present: "Videos for God Knows".
Yo.
I want to use this space to post videos that I like, for one reason or another. I'd like to do this for a number of reasons. First off, I just fucking love internet videos. Some might say my hobby is border line obsessive. I say that it's a valuable tool that taps me into the social conscience of the time and gives me a better understanding of what people (Consumers and the media) really want. And I don't know any good crack dealers (although I'm sure if I did, this may be a very different blog). Secondly, this is a great platform to share my choice of internet videos with the world. Or the small percentage of the world that might stumble upon it. I've got quite a wide array of interests- be them political, historical, social, artistic- and I've found that I can find a little bit of myself in the videos I watch. Before I get too new age all over this thing, let me end it by saying, this is a blog for people who dig videos and are interesting in sharing that interest. With no further adeui, I present: "Videos for God Knows".
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