It's Raining Cats and Dogs and Infomercials, Oh My!

I've had an amazing past few days. Well, as amazing as it gets, but we'll get to that. Let's go backwards.

I arrived to my house last night with a car stuffed with the aroma of three large pizza pies--one at the price of an individual. I already felt like a b.a.m.f. jammin' out to the sexy De Stijl, even handing a homeless guy a buck as I cruised slowly through the bridge intersection, but when I rolled up to a train right before I hit home to Ball and Biscuit (which really should have been on said album), finally crossing over at the sweet spot of 1:47, the beginning of the rifferific Willie Dixon-Hendrix-Zeppelin orgy, I'm pretty certain anyone else would have had a seizure.



Yesterday at work, this boy and his grandparents bought tickets from me. He's probably 6 or 7, and a ventriloquist, he announces. He keeps talking with this thing, while his mouth is wide open. I smile that smile you only give to mistakenly-innocent-looking children and ask, "can you do that without moving your lips?"


The only thing he can even halfway say without opening his mouth as wide as his puppet's is, "merh," or something of the sort. But his favorite thing to say was:






Which didn't really go along with the truth when I asked him the previous question. Anyways, kudos for cute kids that don't belong to you.

Before any of that, I went garage sailin' with my mom that morning. Normally, I let her and my nephew go together, where he buys ten train tracks every Friday and Saturday and she brings me back a couple of educational books I will never read. However, I was stuck driving her due to the fact that she was waiting on her new car.

Let's just say this: in less than an hour I found an antique 35mm Airequipt slide projector, a Polaroid Square Shooter land camera, and a Harmony drum set (minus cymbals, really) that has "opened for Metallica and Pantera," all for a total of $27. I was what one might call content, I guess.

I also took a short roadtrip for a day to "surprise" a friend, a fellow hipster, where in such environment, I was forced to buy my first or second, or maybe first six records (truly for myself, at least) and Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five. It's a good thing the show at Super Happy Fun Land didn't happen, because the intoxication of American Spirits would've just ended everything.

After we woke up at 6:30 the next morning to walk some dogs, we talked to a lady about walking some more dogs. As she explained to Melissa the food routine in the kitchen, I listened in from the living room, watching this dog with a ball sack leg tumor watching me.


"...if she has a seizure, she'll just lay down and pee, and don't worry about it, just leave her, she'll get back up..."


Almost on que, and clearly I know this isn't exactly what happens, the dog squats down and takes a piss on the already stained carpets. One voice inside of me wanted to yell no!, but then I remembered it wasn't my dog and I hadn't even been introduced. The other voice was saying, oh shit, please don't be having a seizure.

The dog just continued along with its business.

Katherine Heigl might go for cat men, but ever since I became impregnated with the memory of my boxer trying to attack 6 year old me and my new unnamed kitten in my yellow plastic playhouse, the kitten clawing me to death and me finally abandoning it and climbing through the window, leaving it to its death...well, I don't go for cats much anymore. You'd think it'd be the reverse, but I really hate those unfriendly claws. So cat guys scare me a little bit. I'd rather have dumb puppy friends. They're loyal, at least.

I'm not prejudiced at cats or cat people, just sayin'. I realize the previous statements might be stereotypes, which people have a problem with me always using. What can I say? How do we describe people without them? They're necessary. They're simple. They're shortcuts.

Besides. Cat's are manipulative whiney little bitches they go act like distressed damsels in trees. Get over yourself. Fat lazy fe-bitch.

Anyways, the point is this: Did you notice how much shit I bought in this blog? I didn't even mention the fact that I'm looking at scooters or all the food I ate.

Well, Melissa and I did, though we didn't discuss me specifically. We had a nice chat on consumerism and what I like to call a lack of culture here in the states, and the result is this: our culture is to buy shit. We don't hold tea ceremonies (or whatever else the rest of the fucking world does, I'm American and don't know these things). What do we do for fun? We shop. Or we windowshop. Granted, I take pride in recycling/reusing/repurposing/diy...I knew all about that before the word hipster was invented (because that would make me at least seventy). Call me a genuine hepcat, baby.

I mean, sure, in the south they have rodeos (though ideally they incorporate a lot of shit you can buy at them), up north they have...wind. Up north they have kites. But really, everywhere you go, people wanna know, where you can buy stuff. What they can buy. If you've fallen victim to Amazon.com or Modcloth.com like me, you just start browsing for things you didn't even know existed or checking out your newest recommendations. And I already come from a family of hoarders.

Not only is this a plea to check out the whole idea of, if you can build it, don't buy it, but really, think: why is every "entertainment" area in our industry so pricey? Where are the cheap and free thrills?

What happened to having good ole classic company over? An adult version: have an artsy sketching party or movie criticism night or, hell, even a Japanese tea ceremony. Why are we no longer entertained by taking our friends outside to make mudpies and skipping rocks? Thing is, we could still do much of it for free...I used to make home videos with my friends...and technically could now do it for even cheaper--instead of all those tapes, a single digital SD card? I think part of our problem is we take stuff so seriously.

When we were kids we were content if that kind of thing turned out to be total crap...it took up time, was fun, and we didn't have some hella serious goal in mind. What happened to our carefree jokes, America? Why are we so anal and still having problems getting gay marriage laws passed?

Or since we don't really have our own cool culture, what about learning another outside the home--checking out what it's like going to Sunday service in another religion?

And why do we keep putting off the things that don't cost money? I've got a guitar that needs learning and a book I promised myself I'd read this summer...is it because I'm taking myself so seriously?

Anyways, gotta catch some Zzz's so I can wake up and sell some puppet-less runts some tickets to movies they could easily pirate for free and put an end to consumerism for once and for all.

Yay cats?