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Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Things That I Say

I've been thinking a lot about how I comunicate with other people on a day to day basis. Am I someone who always turns the conversation to myself? Sometimes I am. I hate when I do that. I try not to do that anymore. But back to me...

There are phrases that I use repeatedly. It's very difficult to decipher the innerworkings of one's own way of speaking, but I have this robot that I built to look and act like me, so it's important that I get the speech patterns down pretty well. You know what I'm talking about. One misplaced noun or verb or adjective and the game is up.

Robot Andy is at a party. The guests are none the wiser. "Hey, Andy, what do you think of the new Kanye West album?" asks the host.

"I think it's pretty damn good. Really delightful."


"Delightful, huh? Oh, geez. Guys. Andy's a fuckin' robot."

That's when they grab your scalp and tear it away revealing a jumble of circuits. Or jumble of brains, if you're unfortunate enough to have been mistaken for a robot. Maybe you use the word delightful regularly. What a sad life you lead.

I use to say the word like a lot. I had gotten rid of it a while back, but now it's back with a vengeance. So, like, when I get nervous, or am, like, telling a story, I tend to sound like this... like.

I also say I mean. And it's seeped into my writing. I mean, it sounds natural, but looks a bit clunky. I find myself saying this all the time. So, you'll know that whatever I'm saying, I really mean it, because, I mean, it's already been prefaced. And, I mean, you know I meant that last sentence because it carried I mean. You should already know that, though. I mean, what are you, retarded?

On top of that, I'm a very nice guy. Agreeable. So when I help out at work, and they thank me, I usually say "No problem." Maybe there was a problem. Maybe there wasn't. It doesn't matter, really, because there's no problem.

When people are walking passed me, and sort of getting in my way, they apologize for doing so. It's then that I say, "That's okay." But I mumble a bit when I speak, so it sounds more like "sokay."

Robot Andy II already says "sokay." He fits in so much better at parties than his predecessor did. He also says things like, "Lee-me alone," rather than the full pronunciation, "Leave me alone." And "Lee-me alone" keeps Robot Andy II from being discovered. Any conversation initiated by humans can be immediately rejected. "LEE-ME ALONE!"

I mean, like, crazy language. Crazy like the first Robot Andy.

Monday, September 26, 2005

People Shout Things At Me While I'm Running

(This entire post should be read in a British accent)

I went running a few days ago, and I received one of the most original things hollared at me. It was quite HI-larious. A person shouted, "Run, Forrest! Run!" See, I had never heard this before. I wondered aloud, "Who is this Forrest person, I say? And whyever is he running?"

Only then did I realize that this person passing by thier automobile was referencing the film Forrest Gump, starring the delightfully charming and immensely talented Tom Hanks. I had heard this before. Well, I'll tell you, old chap, I nearly soiled my undergarments right there in the town square!

Kudos to that gentle lad or lady who was intelligent enough to pull that reference out from the nether regions of our collective psyches. Good show! Jolly good show, indeed!

I say, to those who say there is a lack of originality in this world, I say look no further than your own roadways! Talent is zooming by, honking and waving. Oftentimes, talent will throw an empty bottle at you, and on rare occasions, that bottle might be filled. Not with whiskey or refreshing soda pop, but with pure, unadulterated originality and talent!

Sometimes, though, it will be whiskey. And I will say, it can be quite painful and odorous. But whiskey and originality!? What a thing to have on our roadways!

We truly live in magical times, indeed!

(and... scene.)

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Five Of Five Random Thoughts

I Am Mikey From Swingers

Have you ever seen the film Swingers? I like that movie for a couple of reasons. First, it's very funny. The talking answering machine in the beginning always gets me. Two, I feel better about myself after watching Mikey, played by Jon Favreau, look like a complete ass in front of girls over and over and over again.

I am Mikey.

There are a few moments which really highlight this. I mean, besides basically every awkward moment he gets himself into. I'm not going to go to deep into detail, because if you've seen Swingers once, you've probably seen it a dozen times. And you probably remember most of the dialogue. Also, I feel a bit naked talking about this stuff, since people I know read this. Also because I really am naked right now.

MIKEY: "You know, I just always want to be a gentleman."

That's me. I'm just always like that. Maybe some girls like being treated like they don't matter, or they like to "work for a guy," whatever the Hell that means. Those girls probably wouldn't like me. This is the logic. I'm nice. I like a girl. Ipso facto, I'm nice to that girl. It's simple, but I like simple. I don't ignore her. I don't belittle her. That would be retarded. And guys who do that are retarded.

When I see the following scene, part of me wants to become this kind of guy. Part of me wants to get the bunny. On the other hand, I realize that you can be a gentleman and still convey this sort of confidence, but in a less... aggressive, assholish way...

These are Mikey's friends, Trent and Sue, trying to build his confidence up.

Trent: You know what you are? You're like a big bear with claws and with fangs...
Sue: ...big fucking teeth, man.
Trent: Yeah... big fuckin' teeth on ya'. And she's just like this little bunny, who's just kinda cowering in the corner.
Sue: Shivering.
Trent: Yeah, man just kinda... you know, you got these claws and you're staring at these claws and your thinking to yourself, and with these claws you're thinking, "How am I supposed to kill this bunny, how am I supposed to kill this bunny?"
Sue: And you're poking at it, you're poking at it...
Trent: Yeah, you're not hurting it. You're just kinda gently batting the bunny around, you know what I mean? And the bunny's scared Mike, the bunny's scared of you, shivering.
Sue: And you got these fucking claws and these fangs...
Trent: And you got these fucking claws and these fangs, man! And you're looking at your claws and you're looking at your fangs. And you're thinking to yourself, you don't know what to do, man. "I don't know how to kill the bunny." With this you don't know how to kill the bunny, do you know what I mean?
Sue: You're like a big bear, man.

Sometimes I want to be the bear. And I think I am, but I'm the bear who is also a gentleman. Or a gentlebear? Or Gentle Ben the bear? Whatever. Gentlebear will do.

The point is, I've accepted the fact that I'm a nice guy. But I'm nice-guy-Mikey at the end of the movie, after he's met Lorraine, Heather Graham's character. He's still the nice guy, but he's a confident, gentlebear, too. I can't be an asshole. I just can't. I'm the nice, confident, gentlebear.

I am Mikey.

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Customer Interaction

At Andrea's, the store at which I am employed, I work behind the scenes, so I don't really see a lot of customer interaction. And when I do, it usually ends awkwardly for the customer.

For instance, today I had to carry some merchandise out onto the floor. As I was leaving the floor, a woman stopped me and asked me about some item on some shelf.

"Excuse me," she said. "Do you work here? What's your name?"

"My name is Andy. And, yes, I do work here, but---"

"There was this large, decorative duck figure on a shelf, and I need to know the price," she says. "It's right over there," she says, turning and pointing to the shelf where said large, decorative duck figure supposedly lies. But when she turns back to me. I am gone. Where I was, there is now only a cloud of smoke.

The old woman walks around the aisle confused, coughing and clearing the smoke with her hand. "Hello?" she asks. One of my coworkers comes to aid the old woman.

"Can I help you, ma'am?"

"Yes, this boy named Andy was standing right here," she says, still bewildered. "I asked him to help me find the price for something---"

"Did you say 'Andy'?"

"Yes, why?"

"Well... Andy died last year," says my coworker, a little confused herself.


"Yeah, he was walking underneath those shelves over there, and this whole order of large, decorative ducks came crashing down on him, instantly killing him."

"OH MY! I was just asking for the price of those very same ducks," the old woman shrieks. "They're right over there!" she says, turning and pointing to the shelf where said large, decorative duck figures supposedly lie. But when she turns back to my coworker. My coworker is gone. Where she was, there is now only a cloud of smoke.

"Help me, Jesus," says the old woman in shock.

"Can I help you find something, ma'am?" asks another employee.

The old woman screams, has a heart attack, and dies right on the spot. That's when I and my coworker come running back to the aisle, from the next aisle over, to steal the woman's purse. We laugh and laugh and high five.

Oh, it was hilarious.

Monday, September 19, 2005

A Renewed Effort!

You heard me! From now on, I'm going to really post on this blog all the time! Days! Nights! I'll even create a third section of the day called... uh, nays... I mean, Nays!

It will be funny, and there will be a point to it! The point will be relative and debatable, but mostly it will make sense to everyone! So, let's do this! AHHHHHHHHHH!

So, yeah! ...what's up with all that stuff! And how it's totally... all stuff... and...

I can't think of anything right now!

But tomorrow! Laugh city! Yeah!!

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Work-Related Rap

Sorry, it's been quite a while since I blogged. I just can't bring myself to post if it's not relatively funny or worth it.* And I've been busy.** But today at work I started thinking of rap lyrics about my job. So they are. You may want to read this first, since it helps establish the environment.

Also remember that, as you're reading this, I'm wearing gold teeth and a lot of gold chains. And I'm all up in your grill. Sucka. I'd like to think that if I was actually rapping this live, it would be in the style of a Jay-Z or Dr. Octagon type rapper.

And I'm wearing one of these BLINGED-out watches. Which I acquired in Chinatown. But enough about shady business dealings in its purest, concentrated form. Here they are.***

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Boxin' But No Knock-Outs

I'm unpacking boxes
And it ain't no fun—WORD
Do I put this in the first basement
Or does it go in the third?

I like tiny houses
And nativities and shepherds
I'm like Kanye with diamonds
only I got rocks with words!

This isn't a party
All I got is ma flow
Ma box cutter and marker
I'm a box-doctor on the go!

Now everything's checked in
I gotta get pricin'
So pass me the price gun
'Cause we gotsta get paid, son!

And here comes the boss man
With his loud shoes and voice, man
But I ain't got a choice, man
It's where all the checks land!

Maybe I'll get lunch
But the café looks busy
I swear there's no end to it
You know that's fo shizzee!

Then it hits 4:30
And I'm out like The Flash
Don't matter if I'm hurtin' none
'Cause at least I gots the cash!

Listen. I am very, very white. I mean no disrespect to rap culture by phrasing these lyrics the way I did. It's all love. You know that. Right, homie? It's all love.

* Andy is all dried up.
** Busy hating blogging and bloggers.
*** Lens flares added to increase street cred.

Sunday, September 04, 2005

The Drunk Post

I'm not really drunk. But I was. I think I've sobered up a bit. Hence, the ability to string together whole thoughts. It's so funny to me just the idea of being drunk. Especially when I'm drinking with my friends. Because we so easily fall into these horrible, horrible stereotypes. I'm aware of it as it happens. And yet, I can't do anything about it. As these topics came up, I would just laugh hysterically to myself in one instance (understanding the level of absurdity), and in the next instance, join in on the conversation.

The following topics came into the conversation no more than two or three times during the night:

- Evolution
- God: Is there a god? Why are we here?
- Eastern religions: "They know where it's at."
- The government: "Yeah, they're totally out to screw us."
- The JFK assassination. Again, the government. They are so out to get us.
- The moon landing: hoax or not?
- 9-11 and the repercussions...
- Oil...
- The evolution of human emotions...

I guess I'm not all that embarrassed to have joined in on these "deep" conversations, but it's funny to think about. When I've been drinking, it's not as if you're not in control, it's just that the controls are much more difficult to man. I can hear the ridiculously stupid topics that are being raised, and still I join in as if I were arguing in front of Congress. It's quite a unique experience. Of course, there are quite a few people who already know what I'm talking about, so no explanation needed.

I don't know. It just struck me as funny.

Oh yeah. And one kid uttered something which stayed with me all night. And so now I'll post it. "Dude, like, Airplane was good, but Jefferson Starship is where they really hit their stride. Those years were just totally magical, man."

Any mispellings or errors in this post are already explained I think. Even when I went back to edit it was hazy.