LOS ANGELES, CA-
It all starts with me being asked
To play some music for a yoga retreat in Ojai
Ojai
The place that takes its name
From the Chumash Indian word A’hwai, meaning “moon”
PARIS-
My fiancée does not know how to spit.
Physically, she cannot spit.
Seriously, who doesn’t know how to spit?
Spitting is something we all do every day.
It’s quite useful, in fact.
Without the spitting mechanism, it is quite difficult to brush one’s teeth. (more…)
MOORHEAD, MN-
I went up to Lake of the Woods over Memorial Day weekend.
This section of Minnesota is the northernmost part of the continental United States.
People from the area call it ‘the nipple’.
To get to the tip of that nipple, my girlfriend and I had to go into Canada, and then back into the US.
SAN ANTONIO, TX-
Not too long ago, I was vertically slicing an avocado for a dinner salad and nearly severed my left pinky.
It’s the cutest knife.
Look at the pretty red handle:
PARIS-
If you really call yourself Catholic, and you really believe that Jesus is the Son of God, and you believe that Jesus never married, that He died on a cross and was resurrected, if you believe all this, what do you care if some stupid author writes a book saying you’re wrong?
Dan Brown struck gold three years ago with his–do I really even have to say the name of the book at this point?–and good for him.
Earlier this summer, Imagine Entertainment released a movie based on the book. (more…)
SAN ANTONIO, TX-
Last December, at a torturously early Chamber of Commerce networking breakfast, I won a Dale Carnegie public speaking course.
(Proof that good things can come out of dropping your business card into fish bowls.) (more…)
Yes, Mel Gibson has issues with Jews.
His drunken comments to a Malibu cop confirm that he holds a certain amount of animosity toward Jews.
In his alcohol-fueled rant, Mel accused Jews of starting all wars.
While I believe this statement does demonstrate his dislike of Jews, I also doubt he literally believes what he is saying.
If anyone takes that comment at face value, then they’re doing so either to make a few clever jokes at his expense – nothing wrong with that at all – or they’re just being naïve. (more…)
MOORHEAD-FARGO-
I’m obsessed with playing disc golf.
When I moved to Moorhead-Fargo, one thing that made me feel better was that the area had two courses and another on the way.
Here’s me throwing a disc on the Moorhead course:
That bag at my feet holds my discs.
I carry about five in there: two drivers, two mid-rangers, and a putter.
LOS ANGELES, CA-
If ‘home is where the heart is,’ then by definition (unless you’re in the habit of ripping that still-beating muscle out of your body and leaving it behind while you travel), home is wherever the hell you are.
I travel a lot.
My cardiac organ tends to travel with me, an assumed companion.
I’ve never formally extended it an invite, and it’s never requested to be left behind.
My heart and I, sharing one passport and one constitution, have wandered the globe for years, sharing adventures and gleaning knowledge that we promptly forget in a haze of tequila bedlam.
LOS ANGELES-
It’s 2005
My ’84 Chevy Caprice—a great big V6, 3.8 L, dented, gray upholstered floating sofa
Dies unexpectedly
I phone my brother in Jersey
He says he has a ’95 Toyota Camry with only 44,000 miles
He’ll give me for a great deal
The only problem is I have to fly back east to pick it up
LOS ANGELES, CA-
Something I’ve found myself doing recently
Is going to my nearby Koo Koo Roo Chicken
And ordering green beans and a soda
Here’s a picture of my meal
MOORHEAD, MN-
There is a tall tree right outside my bedroom window.
Its branches are perfect for climbing.
Several wild children live on my street, and they are always playing outdoors.
Their posse consists of about four boys and two girls, all under the age of ten.
They are home-schooled by an obese woman who lives in the apartment house next door.
They constantly seem to be on recess.
The girls love to run circles around my rectangular building in the early morning, screeching and giggling.
CASCAIS, PORTUGAL-
Hey everyone, guess what?
I’ve got my period.
Yippee!
Lets all celebrate the fact that my boobs have swollen into two huge, lumpy, over-ripe rock melons; I’ve grown a zit on my cheek that’s big enough to name “Junior” and enroll in kindergarten; my mood is lurching precariously between highly emotional and intensely ferocious; my back hurts as if someone’s inserted an electric carving knife into my fifth lumbar vertebrae; and I want to eat an entire cacao plantation in ancient Maya, along with the little people that farmed it, those horrible Jesuits that sold them out to the Spanish, and all of their pets.
Give.
Me.
Chocolate.
Now.
Periods are fucked.
And there’s nothing moreannoying when you’re BLEEDING TO DEATH than having some blowhard pussy-foot around the topic of menstruation by referring to it as “the fairies visiting,” or asking you if you’ve “got the painters in.”
The Painters?
Give me a break.
I’ll paint you a new face in a minute.
Come a little closer, my friend, and I’ll give you a fistful of fairies….
Right in the throat.
