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780 miles later and I'm back in Pennsylvania. Now what?  For as shitty as the past four months of my life have been, the past week has been the best in a very long time. Being unemployed in Savannah is basically as good as being on vacation, especially around this time of the year, although I imagine any time would be just as good. The weather has been perfect. Temperatures in the low-to mid-70s during the day. A cool breeze blowing through the open windows at night. Time to rock the jeans and a t-shirt, hardcore. Go to sleep around 3 a.m. Wake up at noon. Turn on the stereo and let the day figure itself out. Laid. Back. Somewhere along the line I've also become a born-again Beatles fan, which has put a new clarity to things I can't even describe. Around the time that I first really discovered The Beatles, I was about 12 or 13. It coincided with what I believe was one of the most creative and imaginative times in my life. You can blame the hormones mostly, I'm sure. Still, Music and I have been working out some issues for a while, and for whatever reasons that I'm suddenly finding answers in everything from Tomorrow Never Knows to I am the Walrus, my reawakening, as it were, is definitely helping redirect me towards other bands and great music in general, to say to the least. So let us toast -- to The Beatles, to unemployment, to the guy dressed as a confederate soldier walking down the middle of the street with a lantern in his hand. And don't forget to pour some for our homies. Being forced to eat everything in my freezer before Monday has really resulted in the most disgusting display of gluttony imaginable. Hamburgers, frozen pizza, fish, chicken, microwaveable dinners. I don't even know where all this food came from, but I don't have time to think about it either. MUST EAT! Maybe I'll just have some Ramen for lunc--"NO! Bitch, finish that freezer!" Perhaps just a cookie? "Cookie my ass, you pathetic fool--EAT!!!" I don't think all this food is going over well with the little people in charge of functioning operations in my head. Damn little people. I'll get you someday! For fellow DVD lovers: deepdiscountdvd.com (my favorite place for buying DVDs) is now offering an additional 20% off their already-super low prices with the coupon code: dvdtalk. Wheee ... expires November 20. Hey, so uh ... anyone with an extra 22 mb of space want to host my site for the next 2 ... 3 months? Among those I met last night in what turned out to be one of the more unusual evenings since I've been here: Bishop opened a bar in Costa Rica not long ago, but he most recently lived in Maui where his girlfriend goes to school. A surfer-turned-real estate agent, Bishop plans to buy a house in Savannah where his dad is the director of Crimestoppers. Regardless, he'll be buying property in both Hawaii and Costa Rica, and he recommends that I start my own newspaper in the latter, where I can "live the good life for cheap, bro." Cain makes ridiculous amounts of money hosting parties for dignitaries of other countries, and though I have no idea how someone gets this kind of job, he apparently makes thousands per event, and he has a nice car and flimsy brown scarf to prove it. After explaining his riches, he then proceeded to bum cigarettes off every person he could, all night. Julie has curly red hair and a good sense for 80s-style fashion. Fluent in German, she downs shots of Jägermeister like a champ and dances on bartops like a professional. By the end of the night she was wearing a wedding veil and puking outside the club. Eduardo drives a suped up Volkswagen with a TV in the sun visor. He's quick to let you know he has money while at the same time remaining surprisingly humble and likeable. A country boy from Kentucky, he's now an art student training to become a landscaping architect. His trophy girlfriend, Nikki, seemed quiet and unassuming at the beginning of the night, though on the dancefloor she had no objections when a random girl sandwiched her with Eduardo and put her hand down her pants for the entire duration of "Shake Dat Ass." Bonnie, a very large girl, has more energy than I could ever muster, even if I were to drink 1,000 cups of coffee. She is in a constant state of having songs stuck in her head, namely Rocky Raccoon, which she sang all night because the sight of her neighbor's cat, Rocco, reminds her of the tune every time. Bonnie also likes being in pictures with her face next to guys' butts. She is one of only a handful of people I have met in my life whose head, I fear, could suddenly explode given the right stimulus. 3:32 AM Did you know the majority of visitors to Munchies visit between 11 p.m. and 1 a.m.? I'm trying to think of ways I can reward these people. 
Outside my apartment. November 14, 2004 3:15 a.m. I don't know why I find this so funny.  6:44 PM In trying to reclaim the masculinity being stripped from my soul, I have told myself that I will no longer apologize for anything. There! I'm no feeble old man! I'm a monster! Rooooooar. Anyway, I'm really sorry for not posting much lately. And I'm sorry that when I do post, it's mostly crap. And I'm sorry that I made some kid eat sand on a Oreo cookie when I was in first grade. --- Yesterday, at work, we received a notice that we would be evicted from our office if our rent wasn't paid. Well, we didn't pay the rent, so today we were evicted. Not too much else to say about that really. Cheers. Destroying a kitchen chair: 
 Hi, my name's Savannah, and I'm here to kick your ass until you get the fuck out of here, or die, whichever comes first. To be honest, people, if I actually took the time to explain to you all the shit this town brings me on an almost daily basis, you'd think I was the biggest whiner in the world, which is why I limit it where possible. But the shit goes on, I assure you. Right now, for example, my apartment complex seems to have lost my check for this month's rent -- which I gave to them, by hand, two days before I told them I would have to break out of my lease. But what's this? The check is suddenly gone and nobody remembers taking it from my hand early last week. That means, in addition to this month's rent, somebody has to pay about $200 in late fees. Hey .. that's just great! Come a little closer while I get the shovel ready. By the way ... you owe $3,240 for breaking out of your lease, instead of the one-month's rent cancellation fee as it states in your lease, because we assume you can't read the lease, as most people around here can't. Anyway, at least tonight I was able to watch (what I figure to be) four repo men breaking into a car parked in front of my building, and towing it away. That was a first for me. ------ Tonight's message brought to you by this dude. Two more weeks, then I'm out. Well that was fun.  9:56 AM Since I don't have anything particularly interesting to say, perhaps you'd like to compare crime rates in Savannah with those in other cities, just so you know I haven't been bullshitting all this time. It's unfortunate, really: I'm not even working anymore, but I still haven't been able to stop thinking about crime. 2001 crime rates, per capita. [Be sure to look at the populations anyway.] Compare Savannah to: Philadelphia New York City Oakland, CA Los Angeles Washington, DC Paterson, NJ Milwaukee Among the many ways we tried to cut costs at the newspaper in the past couple weeks -- among laying off our drivers, telling our freelancers they could never work for us again, and taking paycuts in each of our salaries -- was getting rid of our beloved office water cooler. Yes, it was that bad. Faced with the fact that the water-distributing people would be coming to our office at the end of next week to pick up the machine, we figured we should get the most out of our money by drinking every last drop of several 5-gallon jugs we still hadn't used. So, on Tuesday, the three of us in the office were determined to finish one of these jugs in one day. So we drank ... and peed, and drank some more. I read somewhere once that a fraternity hazing had gone terribly wrong when a kid was forced to drink so much water that his brain expanded and he died. Ah, here's something on the subject, I think. Well anyway, after the first few hours I was feeling a little woozy myself, especially after having just downed a giant, greasy Western Bacon Thickburger for lunch. Mmmmm. I had a headache, and I was feeling somehow intoxicated. I went to the bathroom to empty my bladder for no more than 60 seconds, and when I came back I was told the newspaper would be shutting down -- forever. By then I couldn't help but burst into laughter. But once the drugs (well, water) wore off a bit, I knew it wasn't a joke. It was Election Day 2004, and I was unemployed. So here I am, still trying to figure out what I'm doing, and still trying to finish those jugs of water at the office while we close up shop -- but I really don't know what the hell to do, and we're not even making a dent in the water. Today we delivered about 3000 copies of our last issue to 80 shops downtown in 85 degree heat. A real blast, I assure you. Here's a particularly unappealing photo of myself during the delivery, which I am now posting purely for the sake of the showcasing the craze in my eyes -- and the exhaust in Pat's behind me.  Nothing is definite now, but it looks like I will be heading back home for a while, then moving to another strange place I have never before visited -- Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Until then, keep the water coming ... along with other whistle-wetting beverages. I look at you all see the love there that’s sleeping While my guitar gently weeps I look at the floor and I see it needs sweeping Still my guitar gently weeps I don’t know why nobody told you how to unfold your love I don’t know how someone controlled you They bought and sold you. I look at the world and I notice it’s turning While my guitar gently weeps With every mistake we must surely be learning Still my guitar gently weeps I don’t know how you were diverted You were perverted too I don’t know how you were inverted No one alerted you. I look at you all see the love there that’s sleeping While my guitar gently weeps Look at you all... Still my guitar gently weeps. P.S. If you haven't yet watched the movie trailer at the website linked to the picture below, you really must; I watch it like every two minutes.  |
Late night snacks. Bite-sized ramblings. Old-fashioned eats, served fresh daily. Open 24-7.  Other blogs Fireballs and Tsunami JeffreyDavis.net Mismatched Parentheses NimbleSixpence One Tortured Soul Palpably Inadequate Picnic, Lightning Pony Legs, Temporarily Supernouveau Wander Lust In my DVD player Archives June 2003 July 2003 August 2003 September 2003 October 2003 November 2003 December 2003 January 2004 February 2004 March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 January 2006 February 2006 March 2006 April 2006 May 2006 June 2006 July 2006 August 2006 September 2006 October 2006 November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 June 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 Other stuff Homestarrunner One Slime DeepDiscountDVD Olde English Sketch Comedy Live Music Archive Copy Army Copywriting Service Love & Radio This One Time Email me mmjunior / at / hotmail   
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