Monday, 24 November 2003

Flat Tire

i work with two rappers. this is completely unforseen, but i suppose not unwelcome. Augy is the driver, and his rap name is A.U.G. for Always Underground game. he is a bigger dude, about my height but maybe a deuce and a quarter. he’s pretty quiet and shy unless you joke around enough and talk about the sales manager.

Chango is the night duplicator, my replacement in the afternoons. Apparently Chango means ‘baby gorilla’ in Spanish – a nickname from his childhood. Now it is his rap name. A.U.G. and Chango have song called Underground Thugz. I heard it today. I’ve only seen Chango once, on my first day. Despite the fact that he has worked at this place for approximately four and a half years, he still doesn’t know how to do certain basic tasks like boxing, labeling, or even doing double passes on especially large orders. Lots of interesting things seem to happen to Chango. Friday was an especially nice day in the upper 60s and thought this has no obvious correlation to the fact that he called in sick with a twisted ankle, the duplicator i am replacing seemed to think differently. Today Chango called in to say he was going to be late because he had a flat tire in Paineville. perhaps this is a metaphor for his alleged swollen ankle, or perhaps it is true, i don’t know him well enough to judge. At this rate, I never well. Chango has a lot of flat tires.

crash poem.

Saturday, 22 November 2003

Friday, 21 November 2003

Thursday, 20 November 2003


Today I have entered a new phase in my life. Not only have I turned a whopping 23, but I started a really real world job doing video duplication. I am no longer in some sort of post-graduate liminal limbo. I’ve got something that will pay the bills, gives me health insurance and a 401(k). once i’ve paid off some of my debts, this will allow me to pursue whatever endeavors i choose to pursue in my spare time. Its a very nice birthday present.

other than that, twenty-three doesn’t do a whole lot for me.

Tuesday, 18 November 2003

Short Story

Dear girl who I once knew,

It’s a shame we never hooked up. The Lord knows I wanted to. All those times we spent hanging out [with all that tension hanging between us] we should have done something about it. I used to look at your hair or your eyes or the arch in your back and want to hold hold hold you. I would think about what it would be like to wake up with your hair tickling my face, and I’d try to figure out how I would disentangle legs without disturbing you. Just breakfast and closeness. Those could have been good times. Then things ended, high school, college, summer vacations and we were left with no time for anything more than a wistful goodbye.

Of course you probably saw things a bit differently.

Tuesday, 11 November 2003

3 Things

1. I ran my car into a tree.
2. WCSB is a helluva good college radio station. They stream too.
3. Come hell or high water, Glazen Creative will hire me.

Believe it or not all of these are related.

I was driving my reel to Glazen and listening to WCSB as I was exiting I-90 toward East 9th Street. I was braking around on the ramp when instead of anti-locking, as they are wont to do, my brakes anti-anti-locked i spun 90 degrees, slid toward the edge of the road and when I hit dirt I slammed on the brakes and swung the wheel, putting me back on course, albeit on the grass embankment. My forward momentum successfully distracted, my car merely slid down a bit and hit a tree. A small tree.

The net result, a ding on the side of my car, and alignment knocked out from here to the Lesser Magellanic Cloud.

Its a good thing this is the right time of year to be a Scorpio.
Its also a good thing I had a chat with Jehovah this morning.
I don’t necessarily know if it is a good thing or not, but my pact with the legions of hell might of had something to do with it as well.