McWhat?

some kind of new york mini super bagel project?

holiday traffic report

your on-time traffic report is being brought to you by the friendly folks at the commonwealth of virginia highway patrol board, who remind you to "buckle up to save lives, or pay the hefty $25 consequence of your blatant disregard for the sanctity of human life, unless it's a failure to secure a child into his or her safety seat, in which case it's $50 because children are twice as precious, unless you claim that you just forgot to carry the written exemption form legally allowing you to not secure the child in his or her seat, in which case it's only $20. this ain't yo' daddy's commonwealth."**


**based on 2003 data. nationally that year, fines ranged from as low as $0 (wyoming), to as high as $95 (oregon). but we're all equal in god's eyes.

pohl pot luck

the future is now


my job is to sit at a desk and wait for people to call in because their network is broken, or because they mean to break it soon.

contrary to v.'s assertion that my job involves suiting up in a top hat and monocle and doing a liesurely backstroke through a tub of cash all day, i do actually earn a keep. there are, however, some times when work is "slow" or "none", and we get to relax a little. the end-of-year holidays are one such time.

today we focused on making fun of the bass player from van halen, and coming up with off-putting fortune cookie messages. the better ones tended to be interrogation themed. top submissions included, "if pohl pot were here, he'd have your head" and "i'll ask you one more time...where are the plans for the death ray?"

the winner came to us from my friend s., who suggested filling the cookie with a white powdery substance that would burst into a cloud of dust upon breaking the cookie open, and having the solitary word "anthrax" written on the paper inside. it was also discussed that maybe someone else would get one that would say "cocaine?".

c: "mine says 'cocaine?' what does your say?"

a: "(with worried look on his/her face, checking the back of the paper for lucky numbers or how to say something in chinese or any other sign of normalcy) mine just says 'anthrax'."

happy thanksgiving everybody.

insert bush joke here

my brother's pick for the halloween night movie this year was "vampyros lesbos". we didn't get to watch it then, but i rented it a few days ago and saw it last night. originally a french film i think, the movie is not that bad if you watch it dubbed in german. the dubbing gives it a sort of twice-baked porn appeal, where every little mundane setting-the-groceries-on-the-counter kind of event gets voiced over with exagerated sighs and grunts, and occasionally, inexplicable squeals of surpise. it gets especially would-be-hot-n-heavy when someone is alone in a room...all kinds of titillaing noises as someone browses through the newspaper or opens a kitchen drawer or something.

we ended up watching "bush's brain" on halloween instead, which, as it turns out, is actually a more terrifying tale of the unexplained than a movie about blood-thirsty succubi. it also depicts way more scenes with people getting screwed, (and possibly desanguinated). but that's really where the similarities end between the two movies. there's certainly nothing french, german, or openly gay about "bush's brain".


tales of the unexplained

thresholds of acceptability

mommy cristo

i've been waiting for about six months for a good reason to use either the word "snackcident" or "snackrilege". and then suddenly, bam. two birds. one stone.

the day laura brannigan died

until the day laura brannigan died, there were only two successful sentences that i had ever said to her since i began going to my local grocery store/cafe almost 4 years ago: "yeh, i like the color too, but unfortunately i had to steal it from my girlfriend" and "i live here in town".

as far as would-be pick-up lines go, the former would have scored more points, i think, had i just said "two simple unrelated ideas that speak volumes about my character and intellect; colors are pretty, and i steal things". ("it", by the way, is a fire engine red travel mug, and i did steal it from my girlfriend.)

now, "i live here in town" is really not such a bad thing to tell someone in almost any context other than as a response to "$3.77". when someone tells you how much money you have to give them for your breakfast and you want so badly for what they said to be a question about you that you blurt out "i live here in town", you may as well have shown up wearing leg warmers and a crooked football helmet and said "my mom says i can be anything i want to be".

it's not that i want to date her. it's just that i want her to pay attention to me because i think she's cute. and i should be able to get her attention, since i see and talk to her almost every morning, exchanging money for coffee and maybe something to eat. true, there are a number of things going against me here. she's still sleepy at 8am or so (which i mistake EVERY TIME for the look of smokey disinterest). she's probably a lesbian (as in "he probably won't have enough electoral votes"). she's a captive participant behind the register, in this cat and mouse game of "make me uncomfortable", and that can't sit well with her either. at least i get to walk away.

but all these obstacles can be refuted systematically and empirically as causes for my failure. and more to the point, you would think that i'd be able to come up with something charming to say that's more inviting than "how's it going?", but less pointy than "you'll live in my basement and drink from this bowl, and eat from this bucket, and no one will know". you know, just something nice and in the middle somewhere.

i tried everything. including bringing my girlfriend by on a regular basis, as a gesture of normalcy and non-aggression. it probably doesn't quite translate that way to her, because what i secretly intend to be my presentation on "the benefits and desirableness of knowing me" somehow slips out of my control and spirals into an effortlessly pleasant conversation between her and my girlfriend.

and she can see me out of the corner of her eye, as i get that silently panicked look about me, and she's likely thinking that she better be careful because the only person with enough expertise to find her body would probably be morgan freeman, and he's only an actor.

but the day that laura brannigan died was the best chance i had to take it all back and start anew. the mug, the stealing, the leg warmers, all of it. i came in to get my coffee and there she was, behind the counter, dancing to music, to the song "gloria".

"this is it", i thought. "this is where we make the connection. i love music. she obviously loves music. she's dancing. wide awake for the first time ever. dancing and singing along to a song that i thought she'd be too young to remember. but she does. she remembers. she knows. she gets it. she gets me."

t: "wow, i've never seen someone groove to this song before"

(first of all, that can't possibly be a true statement. secondly, i've immediately singled her out on something that can only be defended, ignored, or questioned.)

g: "no?"

(the onus is now on me to confirm, [and it's important to consider how ridiculous this is] whether or not i have actually ever seen someone sing along with or dance to the 80's hit song "gloria". which is embarassing and inscrutible enough of a thing to have to confirm or deny. but what makes this worse is that my squirrelly little mind is feverishly searching the stacks for any images of someone i knew singing or dancing to this song, and i can't come up with a single one.)

t: "she's dead, you know."

(swear to god, this was the very next thing that came out of my mouth. "dead". i may as well have thrown my money at her at that point, and run out of the store screaming "she's dead! she's dead! revere the flesh!")

g: "who?"

(oh jesus.)

t: "laura brannigan. the woman who sings this song. she died this morning. no one knows how yet."

(my kingdom for a magician's smoke pellet and a time machine.)

g: "no. i...i didn't know that. $4.21."

i still go back there almost every day. 77 cents for a large cup of gourmet coffee if you bring your own mug. and i'm still trying. today i complimented her on her rainbow pattern knit scarf, and she said "thank you" and smiled. i think a lot of the mystery has dissipated for both of us, and that's what makes this progress possible. i reached an outerlimit of ineptitude the day that laura brannigan died, and it wasn't really that bad. and for her., i think she realizes that i'm a harmless awkward guy whom, at worst, might accidentally crush a puppy in his bare hands. but i think she knows that i mean to do good.

did i mention that i live here in town?