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09 March 2010 @ 05:31 pm
productivity, the most elusive of cats in the Dharma Jungle.
07 March 2010 @ 01:19 pm
i found out the brazilian contender for golf in the summer olympics isn't going. they're in london this time. i found his jersey somewhere - which looks like a basketball jersey and shorts, surprising for golfers - and decide to go in his place. i get there, i get in to the grounds with the jersey on. i walk around and take it in while searching for the 1st hole of the golf course. i'm finding holes, but they're totally out of order. at the same time i'm worried that this is not a regular contest, they are not going to have a caddy and clubs for me at the first hole. i do not speak a lick of portuguese. okay i do speak a lick of portuguese but no more. i start to worry about the impending $30k fine i might incur if i go through with this plan as far as i can. but i'm really excited about the prospect of golfing in the olympics.

i eventually talk to my dad and sister about the situation, and they tell me i can do what i want to do, but agree with the possibility of punishment. i don't do it and we go home.

at home, friends are over. i am helping greg make cookies. the last batch was burnt, they forgot to take them out. greg forgets about the milk while putting the ingredients together, and i put some in. this guy wants to put pears in and i tell him not to, but he does. i freak out at him. i take the pears out and throw them on the ground along with the fruit salad that was responsible by association, yelling at this dude for putting pears in a perfectly good cookie dough.
05 March 2010 @ 05:14 pm
there are some problems that come up on us that we don't have stories for. other problems will happen to us that we have a thousand and one stories for.

i mean literal stories. personal accounts of friends, your own memories, news articles, films, tv shows, and songs. and we listen, we watch, we think, we deal with our problems through these stories.

but there are these problems that are there, and we have no frame of reference for how to deal, there are no stories for us to work us through these problems. we have to sit with them, stew them in an empty pot, tying shoelaces in the dark with no sense of touch.
17 December 2009 @ 12:06 am
#1: go to chubby checkers' house, ring the intercom, and play the twist on my car radio.
#2: TBD
#3: TBD
#4: TBD
#79: TBD
Current Mood: contentcontent
Current Music: new super mario bros. website music
11 December 2009 @ 10:19 pm
i'm currently transferring old home videos onto my computer (at least 13 minutes through a dance recital of my sisters from May 1990, which she has been in 2 minutes of).

i've just seen the first moving picture of gramps and grandmom, and other grandmom since they all died.

i'm not sure why my father decided to tape so much of this recital. maybe it made it less boring for him, or maybe more of these girls are relevant to our family than i think. actually no way. this fat 20 year old dancer could not be important. but this still happens. i stumble upon so many collections of hundreds of photographs of inane shit.



19 June 2008 @ 01:42 pm
about 2 and a half weeks ago my sister got married. the wedding was on a sunday morning, at a camp in the middle of jersey.. waking up around 9 am, i put myself to good use as a good brother of the bride to help set up chairs for the wedding procession. it was an outdoor wedding. these chairs were packed four to a bag, and me and 5 or 6 other guys were doing the unloading. one guy opened up a bag and jumped back and screamed "AH! there's a bat in there!" i was a few feet away so i went to investigate. at first it did have the face of a bat. but on pulling it out of the bag i realized it was a baby bunny. terribly beautiful.

i kind of walked around talking to people about the situation for 10 minutes or so, aunts telling me to just put it in the woods, the wedding planner telling me the mom won't take it back because it has been tainted with my scent.

i eventually put it back in the woods near where the procession was being set up, near the rock climbing wall. i checked on it every once in a while, took note on the fact that it didnt move more than 3 feet in hours. i took it with me when i left. jon and i drove it to philly in an empty box that was once filled with gatorade bottles. he lived with me for 5 days and 6 nights.

on the 6th night my roommate rebecca called me asking if the rabbit usually sleeps really deeply. i promptly left the party i was at and biked the four miles home, through prospect park with adam. i slept next to him on my bed, trying to give him a sense that i would be with him and not roll over and squish him during the night at the same time. in the morning i went to take a shower, and when i came back he was dead. it was so strange to hold his lifeless body, one eye still open.

bought a half pint of jack and walked him to the water in greenpoint. met a self-proclaimed alcoholic who had just joined AA who told me every day since the meeting had been a miracle. we put him out to the east river together. i got horribly sunburned in the 90+ degree heat at 10 in the morning. bought another half pint on the way back to my apartment.

i think i had a dream with that rabbit sometime recently.
18 June 2008 @ 03:45 am
my t9 picks "26th" over "both" and "pukd" over "rule"
Current Music: broken social scene
07 April 2008 @ 10:16 pm
i am on the motorcycle. it is me. someone is trying to stop me from going. i think it is nicole. i quickly learn how to operate a motorcycle. everyone i know is chasing me. i drive away quickly. i am free. i am free.
14 March 2008 @ 01:27 pm
if i dont drink beer during a given day, it seems i can't smoke cigarettes and enjoy them.
iraqi kawasaki: people are beating up their girlfriends on my street again
iraqi kawasaki: i dont know why this always happens
iraqi kawasaki: ah gross
iraqi kawasaki: there's a young daughter involved this time