Dairy
So, today my friend made a comment to me about how everyone thinks they are lactose intolerant. And I'm wondering, is this the new hip thing, kind of like how pink is the new black, or old is the new new? And, if it is, what is it replacing? What affliction did everyone used to think they had? Are we going to start seeing "Got Soy" ads everywhere? Will I have to fake illness after eating cheese fondue to be considered cool? Will I have to refrain from eating cheese in public because of this?
Last week, my milkshake brought all the boys to the yard. This week my milkshake will, apparently, make all the cool boys sick, so instead, we all have to wear old pink clothes while sipping soy lattes at Peet's - because it's always cool to hate Starbucks.
What will be next?
26 February 2004
Love
So, I'm in a cab last night, a Yellow Cab to be exact. Another Yellow Cab pulls up next to us. I look over. The driver is flicking us off. My driver, a man who likes to describe most weeknights as "slooooow as hell," rolls down the window and says, "Hey, there's a lady on board, bitch." He then rolls the window back up, turns to me, smiles, and says, "the people here are so friendly. I love it." I could tell he meant it.
So, I'm in a cab last night, a Yellow Cab to be exact. Another Yellow Cab pulls up next to us. I look over. The driver is flicking us off. My driver, a man who likes to describe most weeknights as "slooooow as hell," rolls down the window and says, "Hey, there's a lady on board, bitch." He then rolls the window back up, turns to me, smiles, and says, "the people here are so friendly. I love it." I could tell he meant it.
25 February 2004
The Crazy Bus
Last night on my way to the Buc, I got on the crazy bus - the Number 19 heading North on Polk Street.
First, I stepped on the bus to hear a crazy woman fighting with a crazy man about the bible. Her take seemed to be that if you aren't Christian, you're going to hell, and, obviously, it was her job to inform you. His take, "you're on crack lady."
Second, I sat across from a woman who really looked like she was having a normal conversation with someone on her cell phone. Except there was no phone...not even one of those hidden earbuds. Nothing. Whoever she was talking to didn't understand why she was so upset, but kept trying to make her laugh. Worst of all, their conversation kept breaking up...I wonder if she uses Sprint?
Third, there was a transvestite who called everyone "Mama." The bus driver, the crazy invisible cell phone lady, the guy in the wheelchair who liked to yell, "wheelchair comin'" even when he was not actually in motion, his friend on the phone - who may, in fact, have been his mother.
Finally, there was a trick back door. No one, ok, none of the crazies could get it to work. One guy tried falling on it, another yelled at it, and the lady without the cell phone spoke very calmly to it. It just wasn't having it.
And this is why I love San Francisco. You're never as crazy as the person sitting next to you.
Last night on my way to the Buc, I got on the crazy bus - the Number 19 heading North on Polk Street.
First, I stepped on the bus to hear a crazy woman fighting with a crazy man about the bible. Her take seemed to be that if you aren't Christian, you're going to hell, and, obviously, it was her job to inform you. His take, "you're on crack lady."
Second, I sat across from a woman who really looked like she was having a normal conversation with someone on her cell phone. Except there was no phone...not even one of those hidden earbuds. Nothing. Whoever she was talking to didn't understand why she was so upset, but kept trying to make her laugh. Worst of all, their conversation kept breaking up...I wonder if she uses Sprint?
Third, there was a transvestite who called everyone "Mama." The bus driver, the crazy invisible cell phone lady, the guy in the wheelchair who liked to yell, "wheelchair comin'" even when he was not actually in motion, his friend on the phone - who may, in fact, have been his mother.
Finally, there was a trick back door. No one, ok, none of the crazies could get it to work. One guy tried falling on it, another yelled at it, and the lady without the cell phone spoke very calmly to it. It just wasn't having it.
And this is why I love San Francisco. You're never as crazy as the person sitting next to you.
24 February 2004
V.P. Talks Back
Just "happened" upon your l'il ol' 'BLOG, and was nonplussed to read a
blanket refusal to use a single one of my superb suggested topics.
Nice.
Need I remind you that suggesting stories for other people to write,
even if they have only the talent and not the interest in doing so, is
MY JOB? A job for which I am occasionally compensated (or perhaps will
be, someday)? A lot of very well-known (by their friends and/or family
members) and sought-after (by their debt collectors) writers would like
(nay, LOVE) for me to produce their material, and in this instance I
am miffed that you are not so easily influenced. I suspect it has
something to do with my magical convincin' powers only working on
Sunset Boulevard (or, more specifically, in hotel lounges located
thereon), or the fact that you like to "think for yourself." As law
schools across this great land like to say (if only through body
language, not so much words): We'll cure you of that yet!
On another note, thanks for mentioning my name not once, but twice, in
print. You're better than my publicist. How about a hyper-link to my
Friendster profile? Or perhaps I could send a nice headshot? Give it
some time to marinate before you answer.
Much love,
veeps
p.s. Would this entire letter be a great thing to post in your 'blog?
I thought so, too.
****
Now do you understand?
Just "happened" upon your l'il ol' 'BLOG, and was nonplussed to read a
blanket refusal to use a single one of my superb suggested topics.
Nice.
Need I remind you that suggesting stories for other people to write,
even if they have only the talent and not the interest in doing so, is
MY JOB? A job for which I am occasionally compensated (or perhaps will
be, someday)? A lot of very well-known (by their friends and/or family
members) and sought-after (by their debt collectors) writers would like
(nay, LOVE) for me to produce their material, and in this instance I
am miffed that you are not so easily influenced. I suspect it has
something to do with my magical convincin' powers only working on
Sunset Boulevard (or, more specifically, in hotel lounges located
thereon), or the fact that you like to "think for yourself." As law
schools across this great land like to say (if only through body
language, not so much words): We'll cure you of that yet!
On another note, thanks for mentioning my name not once, but twice, in
print. You're better than my publicist. How about a hyper-link to my
Friendster profile? Or perhaps I could send a nice headshot? Give it
some time to marinate before you answer.
Much love,
veeps
p.s. Would this entire letter be a great thing to post in your 'blog?
I thought so, too.
****
Now do you understand?
23 February 2004
Pressure
So, I get a lot of Blog requests. Most of them are general requests for an update, but a lot of them come from V.P. (which means that they are quite specific). I have never taken one of V.P.'s suggestions/requests and I don't plan to start now. That said, I really want to discuss the other more general requests. As those of you who read my blog regularly and actually know me are aware, this is truly just the stuff in my head.
Sometimes my head is filled with boring work-like things and I won't write about that. Sometimes my head is full of funny things that won't translate well into writing. A lot of times, however, my head is empty. Shockingly, weeks go by when someone doesn't say something weird to me or I don't read a bizarre article or factoid in the newspaper or elevator. A lot of the time, stuff happens and I just don't think it's blogworthy. What I mean is, I don't really think you all want to read about the crazy lady at Home Depot who told me she could see my underwear because my pants were too big and she found that to be obnoxious and rude.
So, I'm left with huge gaps of time during which I have nothing to write about. Rather than make crap up, I wait until something strikes me. Today, nothing has so struck, but I felt like I should give an explanation for my long, often unexplained, absences.
So, I get a lot of Blog requests. Most of them are general requests for an update, but a lot of them come from V.P. (which means that they are quite specific). I have never taken one of V.P.'s suggestions/requests and I don't plan to start now. That said, I really want to discuss the other more general requests. As those of you who read my blog regularly and actually know me are aware, this is truly just the stuff in my head.
Sometimes my head is filled with boring work-like things and I won't write about that. Sometimes my head is full of funny things that won't translate well into writing. A lot of times, however, my head is empty. Shockingly, weeks go by when someone doesn't say something weird to me or I don't read a bizarre article or factoid in the newspaper or elevator. A lot of the time, stuff happens and I just don't think it's blogworthy. What I mean is, I don't really think you all want to read about the crazy lady at Home Depot who told me she could see my underwear because my pants were too big and she found that to be obnoxious and rude.
So, I'm left with huge gaps of time during which I have nothing to write about. Rather than make crap up, I wait until something strikes me. Today, nothing has so struck, but I felt like I should give an explanation for my long, often unexplained, absences.
17 February 2004
Polaroid Warns Film Users Not to 'Shake It'
LONDON (Reuters) - Outkast fans like to "shake it like a Polaroid picture," but the instant camera maker is warning consumers that taking the advice of the hip-hop stars could ruin your snapshots.
Outkast's number one hit "Hey Ya" includes the "shake it" line as a reference to the motion that amateur photographers use to help along the self-developing film.
But in the "answers" section on the Polaroid Web site, the company says that shaking photos, which once helped them to dry, is not necessary since the modern version of Polaroid film dries behind a clear plastic window.
The image "never touches air, so shaking or waving has no effect," the company said on its Web site.
"In fact, shaking or waving can actually damage the image. Rapid movement during development can cause portions of the film to separate prematurely, or can cause 'blobs' in the picture."
A Polaroid spokesman added: "Almost everybody does it, thinking that shaking accelerates the development process, but if you shake it too vigorously you could distort the image. A casual shake typically doesn't affect it."
Polaroid said its film should be laid on a flat surface and shielded from the wind, and that users should avoid bending or twisting their pictures.
Of course, "lay it on a flat surface like a Polaroid picture," doesn't sound nearly as cool.
****
Is there anything to add? I think not.
LONDON (Reuters) - Outkast fans like to "shake it like a Polaroid picture," but the instant camera maker is warning consumers that taking the advice of the hip-hop stars could ruin your snapshots.
Outkast's number one hit "Hey Ya" includes the "shake it" line as a reference to the motion that amateur photographers use to help along the self-developing film.
But in the "answers" section on the Polaroid Web site, the company says that shaking photos, which once helped them to dry, is not necessary since the modern version of Polaroid film dries behind a clear plastic window.
The image "never touches air, so shaking or waving has no effect," the company said on its Web site.
"In fact, shaking or waving can actually damage the image. Rapid movement during development can cause portions of the film to separate prematurely, or can cause 'blobs' in the picture."
A Polaroid spokesman added: "Almost everybody does it, thinking that shaking accelerates the development process, but if you shake it too vigorously you could distort the image. A casual shake typically doesn't affect it."
Polaroid said its film should be laid on a flat surface and shielded from the wind, and that users should avoid bending or twisting their pictures.
Of course, "lay it on a flat surface like a Polaroid picture," doesn't sound nearly as cool.
****
Is there anything to add? I think not.
10 February 2004
Fatso
A report came out today stating that Robert Atkins, creator of the famously stupid Atkins diet, was overweight and had heart disease when he died. Dr. Atkins weighed in at a whopping 258 at the time of his death. He was considered obese by the CDC. And heart disease...well, duh.
None of this should come as a shock to anyone. We're talking about a man whose diet allowed him to eat a bacon double cheeseburger (without the bun of course), but wouldn't allow him to have a piece of gum (sugar = carbs, people). Holy clogged arteries. His widow is feverishly trying to explain all of this away, but c'mon lady.
He was a big guy who ate a lot of cheese. You do the math.
A report came out today stating that Robert Atkins, creator of the famously stupid Atkins diet, was overweight and had heart disease when he died. Dr. Atkins weighed in at a whopping 258 at the time of his death. He was considered obese by the CDC. And heart disease...well, duh.
None of this should come as a shock to anyone. We're talking about a man whose diet allowed him to eat a bacon double cheeseburger (without the bun of course), but wouldn't allow him to have a piece of gum (sugar = carbs, people). Holy clogged arteries. His widow is feverishly trying to explain all of this away, but c'mon lady.
He was a big guy who ate a lot of cheese. You do the math.
04 February 2004
The Boob
Everyone is so freaked out about the Super Bowl Boob. Yes, there was a boob on the television. Yes, everyone, except me and Adam S., saw it. Yes, those with TiVo saw it multiple times. But guess what, it was just a boob. It wasn't a dancing boob. It wasn't a singing boob. It was just a regular old boob (I know it had that nipple ring on it...I saw pictures, but it was still just a boob).
I'm sure plenty of liberals and conservatives have seen boobs before. And, if you think it was the first boob your kid has seen, you're an idiot. So, stop freaking out about the boob. It was just a boob.
The only good thing about the boob is that it temporarily stopped everyone from talking about the DaVinci Code.
Everyone is so freaked out about the Super Bowl Boob. Yes, there was a boob on the television. Yes, everyone, except me and Adam S., saw it. Yes, those with TiVo saw it multiple times. But guess what, it was just a boob. It wasn't a dancing boob. It wasn't a singing boob. It was just a regular old boob (I know it had that nipple ring on it...I saw pictures, but it was still just a boob).
I'm sure plenty of liberals and conservatives have seen boobs before. And, if you think it was the first boob your kid has seen, you're an idiot. So, stop freaking out about the boob. It was just a boob.
The only good thing about the boob is that it temporarily stopped everyone from talking about the DaVinci Code.
03 February 2004
My Uppity Wallet
Recently, I lost my wallet. I cancelled my credit cards. I cried. I looked everywhere. It was gone. Two days later, I received a call from a man named Jerry. He had found my lost wallet and wanted to return it to me. I was excited. The process of returning the wallet was interesting.
Jerry was across town and we couldn't think of a good place to meet, so he offered to put my wallet in a cab and have it driven back to me. I agreed and $10.50 later, it was home. I did learn something through this experience, besides the fact that not every person is evil. I learned that, apparently, my wallet is too uppercrust to take the bus.
Recently, I lost my wallet. I cancelled my credit cards. I cried. I looked everywhere. It was gone. Two days later, I received a call from a man named Jerry. He had found my lost wallet and wanted to return it to me. I was excited. The process of returning the wallet was interesting.
Jerry was across town and we couldn't think of a good place to meet, so he offered to put my wallet in a cab and have it driven back to me. I agreed and $10.50 later, it was home. I did learn something through this experience, besides the fact that not every person is evil. I learned that, apparently, my wallet is too uppercrust to take the bus.
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