January 2006 Archives
...when the exitinction of the human race is something the whole family can enjoy!
I don't know if I think this is the most ridiculous idea/movement/ideology I've ever heard of or the most brilliant, but I came across The Voluntary Human Extinction Movement and thought I might share it with you.
I'm not one to attack other people's ideas or beliefs (unless they're hipsters in which case they can fuck off and die), but this "movement" sounds a bit extreme and is indicative of a larger problem. I mean, obvious hypocritical hilarity aside (working to prevent the extinction of animals by extintifying (it's a word, dammit!) the human race), I don't think I really buy any argument that posits itself by standing upon an extreme. And the inherent drive of all living things to procreate seems like an awfully strong force to just simply ignore. This might, then, pose a question regarding how to deny this drive to pass on our own genetic heritage would be to deny what makes us human in some way. However, I'm not a philosopher.
I think it's fine if some people want to not have kids, however I don't think that this movement really accomplishes anything. Ultimately, it feels a bit too much like giving up. True that it would be easier to just cut bait and run, as it were, but how much has ever been achieved by throwing in the towel? I would hazard a guess and say not a whole hell of a lot.
The Voluntary Human Extiction Movement, in my eyes, fails because it is rooted in 20th century ideas, but that, intrepid reader, is another discussion entirely.
Some of you perhaps noticed I recently changed my blog's subtitle. Why is this a blog worthy event? It isn't. But I'm telling you anyway because when I said "some of you" just now I meant "one of you." You would all do well to read and heed this quote. While plagued with unfortunate hairstyle problems and ridiculously beareded, Thoreau was a pretty bright guy.
Oh. And I was making choo-choo's while I wrote this post.
Because a few people asked for it, here is an update on the personals ad I replied to. She wrote me back the same day I posted the reply. I wrote her back asking if she wanted to meet. And that's it. Haven't heard from her since. Those friends that have heard this already are working hard to reassure me that she's probably on vacation. I'm not worried. I posted a reply to a personals ad which is something I might never have done. So, as far as I'm concerned, mission accomplished,
Also, I have decided to change my blog style for a while. Let me know what you think.
This is the result of Stephanie, Jason, and myself (with guest artist Nate G.) taking turns drawing one thing at a time on the back of a receipt. Feel free to ask questions. I'm sure you'll have plenty.
By the way, Steph, a ninja appeared, threw a ninja star through the tow-line for the moose, and disappeared. That's why there's a "POOF!" cloud. And the moose still dies. I win.
Don't get me wrong. It's not that I don't want to. I've been sick all day and napped for 2 hours. It's not like I can't. I have a brand new bed that's very comfortable. But I did go out and buy this.
I love this show.
Okay, well, maybe not romance, but whatever.
A couple days back, my good friend Tasha sent me a link to a craigslist.org "best of" post: a personals ad originating in the San Francisco Bay area. It was, unlike most of the stuff on craigslist, well-written, funny, and poignant at times. I thought to myself, "If I ever were going to reply to something like this, this would be the one to reply to." After a day or so, Tasha and a couple other friends talked me into posting a reply.
What follows are both the original post from the unknown girl and my reply, which is not yet posted on craigslist.org. A few people requested it and far be it from me to deny my fanbase what they want. I'll be sure to let you all know when the post actually goes up on the site so you can vote it to "Best Of" status.
Be warned. These are both lengthy posts.
Adieu.
Looking for a lazy, semi-LTR - 22
I'm a 22 year old hot woman, bright and socially well adjusted. Have my shit together--full time job, plenty of friends, clean apartment with good roommates, etc. I'm looking for a similarly together man for the following type of relationship:
I work early, so we'll go to bed early on the nights you stay at my place (which will be more than i stay at yours since I doubt you'll be as clean or as frequent a sheet washer, and the two won't add up to every night of the week). We'll spend a lot of time smoking pot and watching shitty TV or doing low key activities like reading or crossword puzzles with a bottle of wine. Occassionally, we will go to a bar for a couple of drinks with friends, catch a movie, or you might like to surprise me and we'll try a new restaurant...or an old favorite. Doesn't matter. Some nights I will cook, ususally veggie heavy rabbit food that you don't really want, but you'll eat because it's made for you. I'll surprise you occassionally with steak, which you like and I don't, or a tee shirt that reminded me of you or a CD I thought you might like. We'll work out separately and in spurts that alternate between regular and lazy. Sometimes we'll do outdoor activities together on the weekends--bike rides, kayaking, camping--but more often than not we'll just talk about how it would be a good idea and not follow through. Though I'm fully capable, you'll probably start assuming responsibilities like taking out my trash (after a good amount of time, obviously), putting together my IKEA furniture and handling anything that requires steady-handed drilling, nailing, etc. I will think this is absolutely adorable, and I'll try to do helpful things as well for you like reminding you of mother's day a week before the date or getting food and beers together for you to watch "the game" with "the boys." Actually, I'll probably consider the two aforementioned options, deem them needy and annoying and clinging, and settle for giving you a blow job. I hope you don't mind.
I’ll have sex with you even when I’m tired and you’ll appreciate that. Every once in a while I’ll probably get influenced by one of those awful women’s magazines like Cosmo, and I’ll try to set the alarm for the middle of the night for sex or touch you in weird places they claim are “ultimate male g-spots,” and this will usually turn out to be more funny than sexy. You should always want to have sex with me, though over time you’ll probably propose something I haven’t done like a threesome or anal and I’ll probably consider it very seriously as some sort of birthday/anniversary/special occasion gift, but I’ll chicken out in the end. I’ll understand if this makes you mad for a couple of days.
Sometimes, on the weekends, I'll get excited that I don't have to get up early the next day, and I'll drink too much. If I'm out with you, you might embarrassingly have to bring me home. Or, I'll call you a thousand times until you pick up and let me come over or meet me at my place. I'll probably say something drunk along the lines of "I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you," or "I didn't mean to get this attached." For you to be a right fit, this shouldn't freak you out too much. I'm looking for a guy that can keep my drunk self from getting too worked up or hysterical and respect that the next morning I either won't remember what I said or I'll appologize for being sloppy. We can both make fun of me the next day when this happens. But you can’t make fun of me for having bad, sloppy sex.
You'll have to meet my family since I live near them and see them a few times a week--mom, dad, two brothers (one at college and one in high school). I keep up the appearance of being pretty held together around them...trying to minimize all the time I waste, exaggerating minor interests/activities. You'll have to be able to carry on a conversation about sports, politics, bike riding or music with my father, and my mom can talk about pretty much anything with you--I'd suggest family. She'll love to hear about your family. The brother that lives at home is hilarious and will make fun of you. I'll laugh a lot and you'll have to be secure enough to not take it personally. He'll highlight any flaw or distinct feature you have--receding hairline, accent, etc.--and draw attention to it mercilessly and at inopportune moments. Also, he's 6'2", and will make height jokes if you're even just half an inch shorter. I think he's hilarious, and this will only work if you either agree or are able to not take offense. My brother at college won't be around much, and he's more or less the nicest person ever, so if you can't get along with him, you're crazy.
I'm pretty likable and confident that you're family will like me just enough to hope we get married when we're together and have deep, retrospective reservations about our relationship post break-up. I predict your sisters and your dad will like me best, just because that’s the way it usually goes. I'll also do well with co-workers and friends, as I tend to like everyone and am busy enough on my own to keep from smothering you.
After a period of time, I anticipate my roommates or yours will start making passive comments about an "extra person" living in the apartment, and one or both of our parents may make alarming comments about marraige, etc. We probably won't address this, but will do something stupid to sabatoge the relationship. You'll become standoffish and I'll react by being clingy and the tension will rise until I end up crying outside a bar and pulling on your arm as you get in a cab. Or, maybe I'll make plans for a major life change--say moving across country or buying a condo (who knows, right?)--without consulting you and you'll break up with me through the classic fifth grade combination of ignoring me and trusting that it'll get back to me through mutual friends. I'll be briefly but intensely upset; I don't know how you'll handle your grief. After a period of time in which I'll probably date some ridiculous characters and make ridiculous proclamations about how much I hate men and love, and how I'll die alone and sad, we'll run into each other (mutual friend's wedding, etc.). I'll be stressed about this meeting, but we'll probably have a good conversation. At least, I hope we'll be able to be friends, and I think we will...until we get married, that is, at which time our respective spouses will feel uncomfortable and end our friendship. But we'll think of one another fondly, nonetheless.
If this sounds good to you, drop me a line with a picture. We can get coffee or drinks or pretend to meet in a supermarket over awkward conversation about bread pricing or something. Whatever works for you.
In Regards to "Looking for a lazy, semi-LTR"
Hello! A friend of mine, a loyal reader of Craigslist, emailed me a link to your post with the subject line "OMG!!! THIS IS THE PERFECT GIRL FOR YOU!" I'm not sure why she felt it necessary to use all caps. I assume she was excited.
I read the post, laughed, and thought I might reply. Not seeing the date listed, I emailed my response and within seconds had a reply. "We're sorry, but you're too late" was essentially the gist of the email from the Craigslist servers. This means one of two things:
1)You have grown tired of people sending you cock-shots, or
2)You have already found someone to fill the position
I am banking on #1. However, if #2 is the case, you can either disregard this post or read on. I will try my best to making it entertaining. Moving on.
Using the words "blowjob," "steak,"and "beer," in your post was key. You have either had a few classes in marketing or have talked to as at least one guy as those topics tend to come up a lot in conversations with my gender. Other common topics include sports, cars, and porn. And bacon. Men love bacon.
As long as I'm discussing food, I should address your "veggie heavy rabbit food." While meat is, in fact, a main ingredient in a lot of my cooking, I could use the veggies or, at the very least, veggies not sautéed alongside some sort of meat like sausage or ham. Actually, I don't think anyone would sauté ham or sausage. Regardless, any food prepared for me by someone else is always enjoyed even if it is "rabbit food." I happen to enjoy cooking and wouldn't mind adding a few veggie-friendly dishes to my repertoire just to surprise you on occasion. I will, of course, make some jab about how it could use a little animal fat. You will roll your eyes and resist the growing urge to stab me in the leg with a fork.
I will take the trash out for you after, say, 3 weeks to 2 months, though this timeframe is entirely negotiable. I will not complain if the trash needs to be bagged and contains feminine hygiene products. After some time I will surprise you with little things I remembered you said you liked one time when we were very drunk or were falling to sleep. I may text message you while I'm at work at ask you what you want for dinner or to say I'm thinking of you. If I'm feeling saucy, I might buy you some of your favorite flowers for putting up with my ridiculous, but hilarious, renditions of Bonnie Tyler's "Total Eclipse of the Heart" or Toto's "Africa." I will sing these often, both at home or if we go out to a bar that has karaoke. I will also put together IKEA furniture as it is a lot like Legos, except you get to use a screwdriver. I will even drive to IKEA with you and pick up said furniture because I have never been to IKEA and have heard there is pickled herring there. I have never seen pickled herring and will insist we view it before doing anything else. You will again roll your eyes and wonder why you responded to this to begin with.
Sex will be fun and frequent and, at times, different, but I promise it will never involve animals or the elderly. You will ask for special favors and I will do them even if I'm tired and not expect anything in return. I will ask for special favors and will not be angry or upset if you say no, unless this goes on for a week or more at which point I will ask if something is wrong and offer to eat more pineapple slices and strawberries.
I will read your Cosmo while you are in the shower or at work and laugh at the lists entitled "
We will likely both get far too drunk every once in a while if we're out and take a cab home, making-out in the backseat saying silly things to each other that we will both laugh about later. I will demand the cabbie pay us for the show. The next day I will wonder if you really meant any of it or not, but won't place too much stock in it. There will be some nights I am not out with you and will call you from my pub because I want to drive home, but will need you to gauge if I am sober enough or not. You will usually say no and come pick me up. I will make awkward (due to seriously handicapped motor skills) sexual advances or will sing drinking songs to myself quietly. I will demand sex and promptly fall asleep in the front seat. This will be a tactical maneuver as I will be preparing myself for the romp ahead. At first, you will think I have completely forgotten only to be surprised when I spring awake wondering, "Why aren't our clothes off!?"
I will meet your family whenever you want me to because, while it's important, it's not really a huge, serious, binding-contract type of ordeal like a lot of people feel. Your family will like me because I will be a gentleman around them and when we're alone. You will have told them this. I will carefully gloss over the question of politics with your father, but will happily discuss all other topics. After I am comfortable with him (which may take anywhere from 10 to 15 minutes), he and I can discuss politics so long as I am certain he won't stab me in the leg with a fork. I will tell all kinds of stories about my family to your mother including how my ancestry got to this country or the time my sister threw a rock at my eye. I am good at telling stories. I will take the guff from your brother-at-home because he is taller than me, but I will make fun of him as well. If that fails, I will silently cry myself to sleep at night. If caught, I will tell you I have something in my eye. Your brother-at-college and I will get along well because we are both awesome.
Sadly, my siblings live in the Los Angeles metropolitan area so you will see them about as frequently as I see your brother-at-college. My brother will remind you of a young Leif Garrett or David Bowie as Ziggy Stardust. My sister will talk your ear off about fashion and shoes. You will get along well with both of them as that's how these things usually go. You will be invited over to my parent's house for dinner as soon as you are comfortable with it. This will probably be on Taco Tuesday. My father will ask your name, immediately forget it, and call you "Sweetie" all night long. My mother will demand you stay after dinner and play some board game like Scrabble or Sorry. Sometimes, we will play Scattergories and my father and I will get the same answer for obscure questions. One time we both put "metallurgy" under the "Hobbies" category. He and I will laugh hysterically. You and my mother will roll your eyes.
I live alone so the only roommates we'll have to deal with are yours. I will occasionally make them dinner or cheesecake to smooth things over unless they don't like eating in which case I will paint them a terrible picture (not because I hate them, but because I just don't know how to paint) or change their oil. I tend to deal with issues head-on as an adult having graduated from 5th grade many years ago. You will be pleasantly surprised by this (the talking about issues, not the graduating 5th grade part though you will sometimes wonder). We can discuss the end of the relationship at some other point as it feels kind of weird to address it up front. For now, I will say it has something to do with the Battle of Hastings, string theory, or the daytime television show The View.
I am financially stable and live a comfortable lifestyle. While I technically work early, I usually don't get into the office until about 9:30 or 10 because I like sleeping and my boss is incredibly lenient. Sometimes I'll do a little extra work when I get home from the office, but will often want to relax and read or watch a movie. Most of my friends are older than I am, married and have children, which shouldn't freak you out. I will offer to babysit for them from time to time and will invite you over to meet the kids and make-out on the couch like 17-year-olds. We will find this endlessly amusing.
And that's that. I hope this post finds you in good health and better company. Drop me a line if you're interested or just to say “Hi.” At the very least, I hope this made you smile. Cheers.
Under no circumstances should you visit FlashFlashRevolution.com. It's like the ridiculously popular Dance Dance Revolution (a game where you are required to listen to dance music and stomp on arrows on a large footpad that correspond to arrows on the screen) except you don't have to get up! Sweet!
Dating sucks. Let's just get that straight before I even start. It sucks and you know it. Those of you in relationships know exactly what I mean. You can remember all the hard work and crappy dates you went on before you finally found the person that you're with now and damn is it nice to be out of the game, right? I know I'm right because most of you have told me that. I've been on good dates and bad dates. I've dated girls that were right for me and girls that weren't. I've tried every magical combination I could think of and, yet, I keep coming up empty.
Well, not any more. I have devised complex and highly detailed plan for ending my dating woes: the SCTI-1. The Sarah Chalke Thought Inculcator Mk. 1 is a geosynchronous satellite targeted for maximum thought inculcation. The idea behind it is simple, really. I will spend billions of dollars developing as-yet-undeveloped mind control technology(1, 2, 3). This technology will make use of a conical-focused beam allowing for very precise targeting of an individual.
This beam device will be placed inside a highly complex geosynchronous satellite positioned directly above the greater Hollywood area and target one Sarah Chalke, my TV actress girlfriend (I have many girlfriends; they just don't all know yet). Once fully configured and properly positioned, the beam-device will send specific messages directly into Sarah's (my pet name for her will be Peaches) brain making her desire me above all other males, alpha and otherwise, thus ending my dating dilemma.
Problem solved. I don't have to date any more and I have an easy-malleable woman. Two birds, one stone. I will accept Pay-Pal donations and, once my ultimate goal is acheived, I will gladly turn my satellite on the victim of your choosing love of your life!
Form an orderly queue.
I used to know this guy who was an individual. He did some nerdy stuff and he did some trendy stuff and sometimes he did some pretty weird stuff, but whatever he did, he did it with his own flair. He created this amalgamated stlye from pieces of others that he liked and I loved him for that. He was so creative and different and I identified with him in many ways.
And so it went for a while, maybe months and maybe years. I admiring different parts of his personality or what have you. I was glad to call him my friend. I would introduce him to my other friends and some would see what I saw and others wouldn't. The ones that saw it, we would all get together and drink and laugh and exchange ideas and have disucssions about our opinions on things. It was amazing because everyone was so very real. We were all ourselves.
Until he met some other guy or girl. He was different after that. I gave him the benefit of the doubt because, really, who doesn't get all weird when you meet someone new that has that "quality" we're all looking for in another person? So I chalked it up to puppylove or infatuation or whatever it is and waited for my friend to come back because I missed him and my other friends and I missed having him in those discussions that we all used to have about our opinions.
After a while I started to worry because he was still that different person. So I talked to him about it. I asked him if anything was wrong and if he was okay because I was worried and he didn't seem like himself lately. He seemed like someone else entirely. And he said no, that he was fine, but things in his life were just a little rough right now and that he'd be okay. I believed him and a short time later I found out things between him and that person he'd met hadn't gone so well. I took him out and bought him a beer.
Some time passed, maybe a week or a month or a year, and soon he was back to himself again. We talked a lot and hung out and had beers while we discussed the finer points of him not seeing the person he'd met. Namely why things went wrong and why, maybe, they weren't as awesome as he'd hoped. And we laughed because we knew we'd had that discussion before and that we'd have it again and the only thing different would be the person that didn't turn out to be as awesome as we'd hoped.
Except the next time it was the same person. He got involved with them again and, faster than the last time, he changed. He became someone else again. And it made me sad because I could still see pieces, parts, that were the real him, but they were painted over and matted to fit this new person. There was just enough of him there to remind me what I'd lost. And I thought maybe it wasn't he that had changed. Maybe something had taken a turn for the worst in me and I was seeing things differently. Maybe I had changed.
And I had, just not the way he did. He had changed so that he would fit into something. He had changed and he didn't even know it. And it made me sad. I still called him because I still missed him and wanted to hang out and catch up and hear his opinions. But he returned my calls less and less frequently until one day he just stopped. And that was that.
I still see him from time to time. We say hi and chat for a second, but he has to go. He's always in a rush to get back to what he was doing. I don't even think he notices how inrfequently we visit or how briefly. I hear from friends how he's doing and that he and the new person are doing great. And it makes me happy. I want him to be happy. I want the best for him. More than anything. Just it's too bad things turned out the way they did. Because they didn't have to.
So I hope he's alright and that things work out for him. Because I don't think I can be his friend anymore. He's too different. He's changed too much at the core to be someone else. Really, lied to himself and others. By now he's almost someone else entirely. And that's too bad. He was pretty awesome before.
So, I finished Against Love last night. After doing so, I promptly got into my car and drove to Justin's place and discussed it, and relationships, with him for about an hour. While this entry is no means a full review of the book, it is a small statement that Kipnis has some rather good points. I underlined some passages in the book and should I ever feel I really understand what it is I'm thinking, I'll post them here as part of a larger review.
For now, I recommend this book to anyone who likes to stir up shit because no one else has and, even then, only if you like a good mindfuck every once and again. Couples, married and otherwise, should likely not read it.
T-Plus 9 Days and counting...
I think it first occurred to me around 15,000-feet, staring out the window of the Boeing 737 across what was once the void of the night sky over California, but had quickly become the endless sea of gliterring lights streching far off in all directions: "I feel alright."
It's amazing how clear things are when you're three miles up. Homes and buildings strech out for literally miles and a few glow with warm light from within. You can pick out individual cars, running on freeways like blood through veins, and even their headlights. Lamposts and gas stations and the Staples Center (which is stamped across the top of its dome in huge neon-lit red letters in case you wanted to know what an event center looked like from 12,000-feet) and the feeling that maybe this weekend isn't going to be so bad after all. It's all very clear that high up.
This weekend was really great. Nearly all of my extended family from my grandfather on down was there. This may not seem like a lot if you're grandfather is not an Irish Catholic. Mine is. So what follows is a list of first names of people who attended a late holiday get-together at my grandfather's house this past Saturday from roughly noon until 11:30PM or so:
Grandpa, Jim, Judy, Joanie, John, Johnathan, Jeff, Janine, Janice, Jayne, Janet, George, Beth, Ryan, Kathy, Patrick, Mike, Michelle, Brianna, Kyra, Michael, Matt, Bryn, Elliott, Adam, Megan, Katie, Tom, Mia, Megan, Amy, Leslie, Jeff, Ashley, Mark, Kevin, Nick, McKenna, Julie, Chelsea, James, Bea, Bea's Unnamed Daughter, Unnamed Dad, Unnamed Mom, Sabrina, and Sam.
I think that was everyone. That's 47 people. Only four were missing and one of them is dead.
All in all a great weekend. I came to a huge realization which pretty much made my life a hell of a lot easier.
Year of change.
In less than twelve hours I will be on a small jetliner, owned and operated by the Southwest Airlines Company, headed roughly 500 miles south-southeast. I will land at Los Angeles International Airport (LAX), spend less than 40 hours in the surrounding area, then climb aboard another plane, owned and operated by the same company, headed 500 miles north-northwest. Needless to say, forty hours in Los Angeles is, for me, forty-one hours too many.
Some of you remember a scathing entry I wrote about L.A. in the past. With this trip rapidly approaching, I have re-read it time and again, preparing myself, in some masochistic way, for the weekend. In reading this, though, I had someone ask me why I hated L.A. so much if I like San Francisco so much. They are both big cities, so what's the difference?
Curious. Beside the fact that the blog entry was more an exercise in self-exploraiton and a metaphor, there was the simple fact to consider that I would rather spend my time in San Francisco than Los Angeles. Why is that? Distances aside, what makes San Francisco more appealing to me? I believe the answer, dear reader, lies in engrams and memes. Cities are social organisms, after all. Before I can finish this entry, though, I have to do more research. For now, reader, I leave you with this to ponder: Where would you rather spend your time and why?
Well, this one does. Friggin' youtube.com. Productivity sink.
Seriously. This girl is cracking me up right now.
Little known fact: software engineers often double as salt miners. Okay. Not really, but it sounded funny at first.
Hello again, internet denizens! I am back from vacation and sitting, albeit it somewhat ill, at my desk happily writing reports and fixing things that have broken. Last night was a night of fever dreams. I love fever dreams because not only do they destroy your entire night's sleep, but they also do a great job of seeding your mind with doubt.
For example, I had no fewer than 3 dreams wherein I left my work laptop at home and had to come back to get it making me late for work. I also had 2 dreams involving registering for the wrong classes. Sadly, there were no zombie dreams.
So, day one of work is off to an amazing start.
Sick as hell with a head so full of mucus you could drowned several small ponies. Vacation was good. Ending vacation like this not so good.
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