Lost in translation (I hope)

So this morning on Stacy's blog, there's a comment from "bobo81" on one of her posts. Actually, it's sort of an uncomment, because this person said literally nothing. But, being the curious person I am, I click the link to his profile and discover (which you already know if you clicked the link associated with his blogger name) that he has more than a few blogs. Among them such fascinatingly disparate topics, like: "star war", "south beach diet", "cat t-short", "ornish diet", "Russian hi-tech shock" (wtf?), "Amazing free sex stories", and "fish catalogue."

Five bucks says you can't guess which one I clicked first. Ok, it was "Russian hi-tech shock" (apparently an homage to bobo81's computer mouse collection--I want to party with this guy), and after that "fish catalogue" (including a post titled "My cat eat golden fish!"--the post in it's entirety reading "My cat Putin eat my gold fish!." Damned good for nothing Putin.). But after that i was drawn like Porkchop to his food bowl to "Amazing sex stories." And I swear, finer erotica has never been written. Take this excerpt (warning...not for the feeble):

An apartment is one-room, but a room is very large, all of walls in shelvings, windows are curtained off. From furniture only the large polished dinner-table and bed, it is defiantly empty, in spite of the fact that can contain persons five. Suddenly from a bathroom a scream is heard. Max and Denis exchange glances. Taking initiative in the hands (only in an order to pass, rocking thighs), sent in a bathroom. I open a door. Our third friend is Dmitry, upright under a shower, voraciously sucks the papillae of young girl. It looks years seventeen.

I need to read further to see if Dmitry eats her golden fish.

Sneak peak...

...at next week's column:

Suddenly, selling yourself is cool.

Sitting in the audience during last week’s great “12 Bands of Christmas” concert at the Imperial, emcee Jason Barron came onstage and introduced himself. But not as “Jason Barron” or even as his apparently-former persona, Freakboy. But rather as “Suzuki Man,” the sort of amped-up, vaguely Japanese car shiller he’s playing on Augusta Suzuki commercials. Not once did I hear Barron refer to himself by his given name. He did talk about the great Suzuki he drives, though. So I guess that’s all it takes for a person to give himself up—a shiny new car.

But it doesn’t stop there. The tire company, Dunlop, offers a free set of tires for folks who get their logo tattooed on themselves. That’s right—permanently disfigure yourself with a corporate logo and you get free tires! One set per tat, though—one guy has five. It’s pretty brilliant marketing, actually. The program itself drew nation-wide publicity (the Augusta Chronicle reported it a couple of weeks ago), and, in exchange for a set of tires that may last a few years, the company gets walking billboards for life.

But what Dunlop has done pails in comparison with the “Ironman” brand. You’ve seen it on Timex watches—the blocky “M” with the dot above it signifying triathlon’s greatest race. It’s the symbol that the Ironman Corporation owns, representing the 2.4-mile swim/112-mile-bike/26.2-mile run triathlons they put on all over the world. And it’s become a ritual for finishers of the race to get the brand tattooed, immortalizing their accomplishment. Off hand, I’d say there are more then a few people walking around Augusta sporting the mark. And there are thousands-upon-thousands of the tattoos on calves, ankles and shoulders all over the world. Genius. They’ve created a walking army of super-fit, unpaid advertisers.

So what does this all mean? Slowly, as a society, we’re becoming walking testaments to consumerism. What started not-so-innocently enough as brand envy (remember that Izod alligator all the cool kids were wearing?) has morphed into something more sinister. No longer is merely wearing a logo good enough. Now it’s about permanence and totally giving yourself over to the Man. Jason Barron as “Suzuki Man.”

“Coco Rubio brought to you by Budweiser” may be next.

Now I know that broadcast journalism isn’t about writing stuff down, but if you’re going to interview a media critic, don’t misquote him on the web version of your story. That’s just what WJBF did last week, after Fraendy Clervaud spoke with me on-camera at the post office downtown, about the rush of packages the posties deal with the week before Christmas.. I was a good sport and played along (although, I really should have asked “is this news? Really? Are you sure?). But the transcribed quotes on the website didn’t match the words that came out of my mouth. Online, they made me sound like an Augusta commissioner—“..I got them (packages) tracked (yee-doggies!)…,” I reportedly said. But the video shows me saying “I’ve”. Sure, it’s a little thing, but if you’re going to attribute an ungrammatically-correct statement to someone, make damn sure they actually said it that way before making them look like an idiot on your website.

“Next, put your junk in that box.”

It always comes to this

Thanksgiving at my aunt and uncle's house in Atlanta. A house full of people and alcohol flowing. Under these conditions, at some point, the conversation inevitably turns to "where I've peed." And, not shockingly I guess, this isn't about the small children.

Uncle Joe: sink at Macy's.
Aunt Nancy: Back of cab.
Mom: In chair, in middle of card game.

Lots of hysterical laughing on the part of my mom and aunt, and at some point, one or the both of them adds a location to the story. Mom: couch at her sister's house.

But this time, a new twist. After recovering, and changing of pants, the box of cold Krystal hamburgers is broken into.

Mom: Your dad always said if you eat Krystals you don't need laxatives. Your dad sure loved Krystals.

My dad. He loved his miniature hamburgers and poopin'.

Cajun skiing

I was born in New Orleans, and until I was about 5 and we moved away, I lived with my family at the Golden Key apartments in Metairie. It's funny thinking back on it now, with a daughter of 7 of my own, how amazing and kind of scary the amount of freedom my brother and I had. I mean, at least from what I remember, we had the run of the place. Me and my 3 year old brother. Like this one time...

I was playing in this vacant lot at the apartments, with my brother...I couldn't have been more than 5 at the time (I know this because that's when we moved to Florida--I'm smart like that). So anyway, I was barefoot, running around that vacant lot with my brother when I stepped on a 2x4 with a nail in it, and it went through and out the top of my foot. I screamed and stepped down with my other foot. Onto another 2x4 with another nail, that went through the top of that foot.

My brother left me screaming and went running for help and came back with the maintenance man who took a look at my predicament and said "you goin' skiin', boy?"

P-Funk's in town!

Apparently.

This guy was walking down the street last week, just past 7:30 in the rainy AM. It's hard to tell from the picture, but he really is wearing nothing but shoes, socks and pink panties. Oh...and a big smile on his face.

Just like daddy

So I'm heading downtown to drop Amy off at the Spirit office, and as we're heading down Broad, there's a cop car with his flashers on, and a couple of cops are hassling a homeless guy on the sidewalk. Nola sees it and asks what's going on.

"I dunno, baby."

"Like, maybe he had too many beers or something?"

"(laughing a little) Yeah, baby, maybe so."

"And they're gonna make him walk in a straight line?"

"(more laughing) Probably so, baby, probably so."

The answer is 42

Every day (I think) CNN has a reader poll where they ask stuff like "Should Britney get to keep her kids?" or "Does Dick Cheney eat babies for breakfast, or just as an occasional snack?" But today, they ask this:

"Do you think self-doubt limits your ability to live life to its fullest?"

That's some pretty heavy shit. Probably some cnn staffer is contemplating offing themselves, but wanted to do some research first. That's always prudent, I find.

Weirdness in One Act (or Maybe She Should Carry that Bible Between her Knees)

A man dressed for running in shorts and a t-shirt sits in front of a burrito shop at a wrought-iron table. He appears to be waiting for someone. A young couple sit, talking and drinking margaritas at another table, on the other side of the restaurant entrance. A large shabby-looking black woman carrying a bible approaches, enters stage right and approaches the runner:

Bible Toter: Hey baby! How you doin'?
Waiting Runner: OK.
(BT glancing down at WR's legs, which are propped on a chair)
BT: Oooh...them's some nice legs!
WR: Um...thanks.
BT: You shave your legs?
WR: Yeah...for cycling.
(BT still looking at WR's legs)
BT: Ooooh...I like 'em. That your real color?
(WR looks bewildered)
WR: Um...yes?
BT: Buy me some food, baby. (telling, not asking)
WR: I'm getting ready to go run. I don't have my wallet with me.
BT: I think I got knocked up.
(BT pauses, looks around, as if searching)
BT: I can't find the man who knocked me up.
WR: It wasn't me.
BT: Shit...I know it wasn't you, baby.
(BT walks to the next table)
BT: Buy me some food. (telling, not asking)
Young Woman: I don't have any money.
BT: You got a credit card. (telling, not asking)
Young Man: No.
BT: I got knocked up.
YM: Maybe you should read your bible.
BT: Fuck you, motherfucker.
(BT walks off down the street cursing unintelligibly, exits stage left)

Sex parties, dope and smack: those lucky AIDS patients have all the fun!

Overheard at the Chinese restaurant, while waiting for my take-out order:

Asian food connoisseur #1, and older Caucasian gentleman: There's so many people that are HIV positive today.
Asian food connoisseur #2, a younger African-American gentleman: Mmm hmm.
1:So many people. You know that's the precursor for AIDS?
2:Yeah.
1:So many people that have what I'll call AIDS. They're formin' these clubs. Clubs of people with AIDS.
2:Mmm hmm.
1:Isn't that terrible?
2:Yeah...that is terrible!
1:The man givin' the lecture said they're formin' these clubs. Cause you know you don't get better from it?
2:Mmm hmmm.
1:So they don't care. They're havin' these crazy sex parties. They smoke the marijuana. They shoot up.
2:Yeah! they shoot up!
1:You know the word "tout"?
2:Yeah. I know it.
1:The magazines is toutin' these clubs. Make is seem so glamorous. So you wanna get it so you can join. Cause it's so much fun.
2:That's terrible.
1:Like people get a cold and have so much fun, that other people wanna catch a cold, too. So they can have fun.
2:That's terrible.
1: Is this my glass of water or your glass of water?
2: It's your glass of water.