"Tell Me About Your Diet"

In late 2010, while waiting for my food-stamps, I was very clearly grossly underweight.  This guy  actually rubbed it in my face directly and openly:

What is it that makes your dumb-fucks think I'm ever going to quit or stop or cooperate with whatever it is you want, of which I'm not really sure anyway?  This guy's name is Don and I'm pretty sure he said he works at the Asia Museum of SF.

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Spastic Biz Guys

I didn't look at the video until now.  Those first 2 gestures the guy in the blue makes are meant to signal his partner that the camera is rolling and to stop the act.  He also very briefly shakes his head, "no," right after the second one and acts nervous throughout the video (the best part is that I look bored):

Let's see, what else can I tell ya?...

It's a memory game, right?  What's the most obscure little detail I could run by ya.  hmmmm...

Well...the day I dropped a hint to Wayne that my brother framed me was on or the day before or the day after either March 23 or April 21.  Noooo...of course, I'd remember that one.  Sentimental, aren't I?

Wait, wait...something very obscure that I haven't mentioned..."Stay out of the power doors".......nope...already mentioned that one....what else?.......Everyone at the dinner table theatrically eating with their mouths open?   ........nope......already told ya about that one......Marty Eggert....."Why you leavin' the state?"  Buzzzzzzz...wrong again....already went over that.  Something from Severstal...let's see....

"Stay out of the power doors" is key to everything and it's very fitting because Wayne got that message across by way of a subtle grammatical mistake.  One doesn't stay out of a door.  One stays out of the room a door leads to.  I have to give Wayne credit for that one, as much of a mistake as I suspect it's going to turn out to be.  I didn't think he had any writer in him.  Basically, if one wanted to make a euphamism for powerful corporate and/or political interests and wanted to use the word "power," preceding something, then "door" would make much more sense than "room," now wouldn't it?  If Wayne wasn't trying to send me a little message, he'd have said, "Stay out of the power room."  Taken literally, "power door" makes no sense in that usage.

I know I'm leaving out something obscure that I haven't yet mentioned............  Maybe not.  Perhaps all has been told.  Rick: "Sacrifice the one for the many."

Oh, here's a great one I believe I've left out:

One of the things my brother told me under hypnotism was to occasionally breath like an asthmatic so I would know how he felt.  I figured that out partly from memory and partly from wondering why the hell I do that occasionally.  I did it right after he snapped me out of it and my sister threw a theatrical fit of shocked disbelief.  (I come from a family of douche-bag fucking posers.  I'm not sure which is the bigger drama queen--my brother or my sister.  It's a toss-up.)  Of course, since I figured that out, I've stopped it almost completely.  I can't remember what else he said, but I'm sure it's pretty bad.  Cool, huh?  I remember something someone told me while hypnotized.  It's not supposed to work that way.  It's just amazing I can't get someone to address me openly about all this.

I got a message from Niles recently, btw--I think.  The language is suspicious, but the address looks legit.  Looking forward to finding out what's up, Himmy Who-Haws.  

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Hey...What's it going to take...

to get it through to you guys that I am not cut out for this stuff?  Anybody who knows me at all will tell you that.  That single successful punch was all I needed for a certain amount of satisfaction and clarity.  Whoever picked me for this is just plain wrong in his thinking.  I know, I'm tall, etc., etc.  I suspected that guy from the second I saw him, though and I could tell he wasn't really drunk.  If he really wanted something to happen, he shouldn't have started giving me tips about form.  I wasn't positive about him until that point, though it should have been obvious despite the ambiguity.  You know--I never have an outside frame of reference.  I'm a writer.  Just give me a non-fighting writing job.  The Streets Blog job sounds like a great job.  Paying blog jobs are rare.

Seriously...I never showed interest in this stuff.  I know, Iknow--like Rick said, "You don't pick them, they pick you," but still--I would think you'd want someone who's heart's in it, no?  I thought Kudary was going to cry when he found out.  "Why him?"  You should have seen his face; ask Wayne.  Paul's a big burly dude.  He's tall.  He's pretty smart.  He might not have "a mind like a steel trap" (like I do--apparently), but he's smart.  He could reach over the crowd and crush somebody's head with one hand and most importantly he's not chicken-shit--like me!  All things considered, I think he'd make a fine replacement.  I worked with him and I highly recommend him.  Good guy.  Maybe a little racist and maybe he made a comment about using a black girl for his "first," but otherwise, super guy, for sure.  Yeah--the name's Paul Kudary.  Paul...Kudary.  On top of everything else that was going on, I had to work in an 8x10 cube with that doofus all...day.  (I'm a good writer, aren't I?  Yes, yes, I know.)

"I like your style, but lift your arms up a little bit."  That's funny.

Send me a check for my trouble and leave me alone.

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