drunk story

annie had been out one night, enjoying some time with some good friends and conversing over a few drinks. "a few drinks" is what she would later call "getting shitfaced," and regretting in part.

after "a few drinks" annie headed home in what felt like a really long cab ride. she went inside, each step feeling a little bit like forever, as she just wanted to get to bed. the key in the lock... turning...pushing the door...going through...up the stairs...again the key in the lock (etc.). annie stepped into the bathroom and sat on the toilet to pee. she found herself unable to resist her fatigue and bent over herself. she ended up knocking her head into a plastic cactus plant that she had placed there after an inspiration she had gotten from a pottery barn catalog. after she was done, annie raised her head and was surprised to see that the planter holding the plastic plant was still on her head. she took it off, brushed her teeth and went to bed.
the next morning, horribly hungover annie started the usual morning visit to the bathroom. when she saw myself in the mirror, she realized she had little plastic cactus plant chunks embedded into her curly hair.
she actually had to cut them out.

next time, annie will think twice about having "a few drinks" and begin going out with her friends for "a drink." she will then translate "a drink" for "enough to get buzzed and continue steadily, eventually plateauing, and finally settling into a nice, even state."

the great mayonnaise conspiracy

when you go to burger king in switzerland, they charge you for extra ketchup packets, but not for mayonnaise.

the great masters of painting were fascinated with mayonnaise. this must be true, i read it on the internet (here)

the mexicans have come up with their own "mayonesa," finding the french version radically lacking in lime.

mayonnaise is a hefty hair conditioner. once the word gets out, paul mitchell will lose half of his business.

like in the case of pepsi and coca-cola, those on the side of mayonnaise are greatly and defiantly divided from the miracle whip enthusiasts.

the secret sauce in the big mac is, in fact, a mixture between mayonnaise and ketchup.

sometimes i think i'm clever...then i realize i was just sitting on a wet spot.

i usually have a cup of coffee in the morning, along with a cigarrette. more cliched, it couldn't be, i know, but surprisingly enough, it provides that sense of comfort that only cliches can bring. the same goes for the sardonic smile and the skeptical glance. i'm not wearing a black turtleneck and a white belt but i guess i might as well be.

i don't practice the things i should nearly enough, such as tennis or religion, but i often think of these things. the happy medium, it's nearly impossible to obtain and frighteningly so much like complacence that i don't really even know if i want it. so i guess i'll do the same thing i often do, which is continue to sit and ponder whether marcel duchamp really had it figured out or if he was just making it up as he went, knowing that all they really wanted was a reason to question.

the spill

yum. better than cheese and crackers.

the alchemist (paulo coelho), jealousy (alain robbe-grillet), the joke (milan kundera), the master and margarita (mikhail bulgakov), on the road (jack kerouac), the prince and the art of war (niccolo machiavelli), del amor y otros demonios (gabriel garcia marquez), perfume (patrick suskind), metamorphosis (franz kafka), blindness and the cave (jose saramago), the brothers karamazov (fyodor dostoyevsky) the great gatsby (f. scott fitzgerald), shogun (james clavell), breakfast of champions (kurt vonnegut, jr), i seem to be a verb (r. buckminster fuller), the stranger (jean paul sartre), the importance of being earnest and the portrait of dorian grey (oscar wilde), as you like it (william shakespeare), heart of darkness (josef conrad), the odyssey (homer), candide (voltaire), 1984 and animal farm (george orwell), brave new world (aldous huxley), razor's edge and of human bondage (somerset maugham), sons and lovers (d.h. lawrence), narcissus and goldmund (hermann hesse), alice in wonderland and through the looking glass (lewis carroll), cairo trilogy and children of the alley (naguib mahfouz), les liasons dangereuses (choderlos de laclos), the heart of the matter (graham greene), the wind up bird chronicle (haruki murakami), portrait of the artist as a young man (james joyce), the scarlet letter (nathaniel hawthorne), absolutely american, memoirs of a geisha (arthur golden), natasha's dance (orlando figes), tropic of cancer and stand still like the hummingbird (henry miller). at this moment i am reading women and gender in islam by leila ahmed.

the sounds that conspire

rock: old school (elvis, johnny cash, van morrison, bob dylan, patsy cline, led zeppelin), middle school (new wave/pop: david bowie, depeche mode, the cure, the smiths, blondie, etc.; glory rock: survivor, van halen, bonnie tyler, ac/dc, etc.; punk rock: ramones, sex pistols, green day, sonic youth, jawbreaker, etc... then there's the softies, like paul simon, jeff buckley, leonard cohen, etc.), and the ambient (thievery corporation, air, tortoise, isotope 217, etc), the hip hop (tribe, diggable planets, beasties, talib kweli, gorillaz, etc.), and motown (james brown, al green, gladys knight, etc.), indie rock (neutral milk hotel, sebadoh, elliott smith, built to spill, etc.), musica en espanyol (soda stereo, cafe tacuba, vicente fernandez, ojos de brujo, etc.), arabic music (om kolthoum, mohammed abdul wahab, hossam ramzy, said mrad, etc.), bulgarian gypsy music (goran bregovic, emir kusturica, fanfare ciocarlia), french music (edith piaf, jacques brel, matmatah, noir desir, etc.), and finally, new school (keeping in mind that there are others i am leaving out for lack of space and time) ben harper, franz ferdinand, the killers, the darkness, weezer, pavement, travis, U2, philip glass, federico aubele, the clash, guitara, sunny day real estate, neil young, cat stevens...

looking at things and thinking, sort of...

black hawk down, hands down. however, i may be so brash as to include back to the future (part one only) as tied for the number one spot. also those by jim jarmusch (ghost dog, night on earth, down by law), yimouo zhang (hero, house of flying daggers), wes anderson (the royal tenenbaums, rushmore, bottle rocket), ridley scott (alien, bhd), the french dude that directed the red, white and blue series, almodovar (mujeres al borde de un ataque de nervios, todo sobre mi madre, habla con ella), alfred hitchcock (vertigo, rear window, north by northwest), kubrick (the shining, full metal jacket, 2001). as far as titles go, i'm a fan of easy rider, the breakfast club, the karate kid, the bride with white hair, most james bond movies (especially goldfinger and from russia with love), delicatessen, lawrence of arabia, the seven samurai, the graduate, fargo, monty python and the holy grail, crouching tiger hidden dragon, the empire strikes back (but i especially don't like the new star wars movies), the matrix, kundun, the straight story, brazil, rain man . . .